Snot Lots
by Bill Strickland
February 29, 2008
Cush looks better on a bike than I do. Yozell climbs smoother. Hollywood Steve sprints smarter. Brad diesels it in a way I can’t. Erica is happier to be riding than I ever am. Taylor looks better in photos. Pearson is just plain better. In any given group, Ray outjumps me, Simes outclasses me, and Beth outsings me.
I’m a three-minute-and-change flat fixer, but Torch is closer to two. Heath is more ugly-fast than I am, and Kuklis is more pretty-fast. Hans never loses hope. Taus can always reach down inside and find one effort more than me. Swerve is always leaner. Selene is always more focused. Dave is always more focused on having fun. Lisa is always more grateful to have gotten out with the pack.
Christina is always more humble. Brian rides more than me. Christoo cares more about how she rides, and Ben cares less, and each does so better than I ever can when I need to. Plunkett is way, way, way faster me while hung over. Steak spins more than me. Xine pushes bigger gears. Tank generates more watts. Reap generates more watts than two Tanks.
Good for them. Couple national championship jerseys in that group, a few rainbow jerseys, some Olympic appearances, pro wins — hey, you worked hard. Congratulations. But, though I hate so to brag, I myself happen to be the real deal: a campionissimo, the rare and legendary champion of champions who is not merely tops here in my town, or in the group I ride with, or in my own country or even throughout this little orb we call earth.....
Bicycling
