Merde

Despite a plethora of frenchman in the big break of the day, there was no french win on Bastille Day. Le pou pou. However, Linus Gerdemann absolutely immolated himself to take the stage, the maillot jaune and the maillot blanc. It looked to me that he was in some sort of quasi-religious state of agony towards the end of his little solo jaunt. In all his effort it appeared that he forgot to drink any water and the salt goattee encircling his rictus-like smile could signal a brief reign in yellow for Linus. Hopefully he is sucking down the saline iv's this evening trying to reverse his dehydration.

Vino' finished in the bunch with all of the other main contenders. He managed to blow out of all of the stitches in his knees and elbow. He finished dripping blood from all of his wounds. My word of advice to Astana: superglue. Oh yeah, and duct tape. Glue him together, tape him up and send him out on his merry way.

Tomorrow's stage looks to be a real beeotch. Vino says he wants to limit his losses tomorrow and then recuperate during the rest day monday. We shall see...

You can follow the physiological live data of select riders mapped in real time on Google Maps at this site.

Last, check out this techno song about Tom Boonen (thanks for finding it Jeff!)


Tommeke, Tommeke, Tommeke, Tommeke, Tommeke, Tommeke!