Finally at the 20 minute mark, lessons in professional cycling cronyism (including a non-English Kim Andersen interview, dammit) gave way to a psychedelic layer cake of rider introductions alternating with circus acts that made everyone wonder, “Fuck, is this really happening?” And here, I present another Luxembourg trivia: in Luxembourgish, a zebra is called “leopard,” pronounced LEE-o-pard. Because even though the team is called Leopard-Trek, a human zebra with a hula hoop did a Cirque du Soleily dance. The sexually ambiguous human zebra must have been a gift from Dr. Mario Cipollini, leading expert in animal prints and evolutionary machismo, as a warning against declining masculinity in cycling. After all, this team launch had an excess of foppish scarves and fussy hair, but a conspicuous absence of Stuart O’Grady and Jens Voigt. Entr’acte entertainment part deux was a Tour de France homage of fixie tricks, with the rider removing layers of polka dotted jerseys and inexplicably miming dry heaves. If you had schadenfreude watching Team Sky’s 2010 Tour ambitions fizzle last summer, wait til the bike race gods punish Leopard-Trek for this piece of shit “homage”! The final entertainer was introduced as an artist, but in reality, it was a dude in a shiny bodysuit with blinking LED sunglasses and gloves spinning in a human hamster wheel with a decidedly "Lawnmower Man" vibe. Come on, Leopard, if you’re the future of cycling, let’s see some current references! I’m thinkin’ something like the Human Centipede Leadout Train? 

 

 

  

The rider introductions were broken up into categories like “Young Professionals”, “All-Rounders”, etc. Is that how escort services organize their, uh, menus? I ask because it’s been strongly rumored that Leopard-Trek is still looking for a co-title sponsor, and I suspect they’re sussing out the cougar patronage model of Christina Watches. After all, aren’t cycling teams just grown-up My Little Pony collections for rich, successful ladies who hate the barnyard smell? If I were the madam at Leopard-Trek Escorts, for the sake of simplicity, I’d divvy up the riders into just two groups: “Pretty Faces” and “Faces that Can Grow Beards.” The riders themselves weren’t much more than nervous automatons giving affirmations we hear so much in December/January about awesome new teammates, awesome new bikes, awesome new goals, etc. Stefan Denifl thought the presentation’s theme was “dress up like a Derek Jarman muse,” choosing Tilda Swinton of 2008 Oscars with a severe, angular hairstyle. Daniele Bennati appeared positively petrified. I’ve seen this look before, the tense-jawed grimace of trying to seem normal during a bad acid trip. Oh, Daniele, it’s okay! We all saw the weirdo spinning in a giant hamster wheel. You’re not hallucinating!

The presentation culminated with the introduction of the “Cash Cows/Golden Calf” category: the brothers Schleck and Fabian Cancellara, who appeared with the official team bikes. (In a gross oversight, the bikes were not wearing scarves!) The interviews were in Luxembourgish and German, so all I could glean was that few things were “super” and one thing was “super happy.” Without Jens Voigt’s hypercaffeinated comedy act, Cancellara clearly got the most laughs with at least one obligatory “motor in the bike” joke. Is there anything Fabs can’t be best at? Would people still laugh if he went on a Michael Richards racist screed? Wait…false alarm, he’s just pointing out all the Nygaards in the audience! But who cares if the audience laughed or not because I was so distracted by Andy’s and Fabian’s wet, crunchy looking hair. The cloud of past doping hangs over Leopard-Trek, but clearly, the abuse problem at hand is that of hair gel. Guys, please use styling wax instead! Bonus: its flexible hold is extremely forgiving on helmet hair.

 

 

We’ve now neared the 80 minute mark, when the psychotropic American spectacular hit another peak. We’ve seen the team car, the kits, the riders, the bikes. What haven’t we seen yet? A group of beefy gymnasts–shirtless in green velvet pyjama pants–doing free ring exercises because that is relevant to cycling…how? Upon rewatching this act, I made a shocking discovery no one else mentioned on January 6: holy fucking shit, these gymnasts have SHAVED ARMPITS!!! Is this common practice in gymnastics? In which case, people who give cyclists grief for shaving their legs should turn their attention to gymnasts. Is it for appearance’s sake, to make the pecs look bigger perhaps? Well, am I saying, “Woa, these gymnasts and their big, manly pectorals!”? No, I’m just utterly baffled by this unnecessary act of grooming, which pushed out any thoughts about cycling, including my previously expressed indignations. So, uh, well played, Nygaard?

A round of hesitant, slightly impatient applause saw the gymnasts off because, come on, this presentation is now at almost 90 minutes. Fabian, can you please neutralize? Sorry, Fabian Wegmann, I was talking to the other Fabian, the World Champion. I’m sure Wegmann gets this all the time now, and maybe he’s even hoping he’d get a cool nickname like “Spartacus” out of this double Fabian confusion. We’ll see, Fabian 2, we’ll see. Finally, the entire Leopard-Trek team and management took the stage for the finale. They did the Wave and put their arms around each other in an uncomfortable, “no homo” way. Linus Gerdemann hovered behind the Schlecks and Cancellara, not sure if the riders organized themselves based on handsomeness or on the prestige of their palmares.

And now I have to ask, what was so “American-style spectacular” about this production? I guess it was kind of like a rap video in spirit, a show-and-tell of a Mercedes, bankroll, connections, and an entourage. If Team Sky swaggered into professional cycling in 2010, Leopard-Trek were like Kool Aid Man busting through a brick wall that kept teams like Geox and Pegasus out of the ProTeam ranks. For the most part, this ambitious presentation was a mild case of the Schleck yellow fever complete with surreal fever dreams, a rebranding of what started at Riis Cycling under a new banner. It was a gas gawping at the newness of this venture, but with the presence of Kim Andersen and Pat McQuaid, Leopard-Trek unintentionally rubbed the noses of discerning cycling fans in the yucky underbelly of the sport while claiming to cut the “bullshit.” I can only hope the team will have a measure of transparency regarding internal doping control policies, if one exists at all, as well as its dealings with the UCI.

It’s a downer, I know, but Leopard-Trek can’t hide behind circus acts, well-liked riders, and a visually pleasant vaguely Rapha-esque graphic identity to woo our fandom. People love to hang their Leopard-Trek musings on the “leopard can’t change its spots” adage, but I think Rudyard Kipling’s story about how the leopard got its spots seems more appropriate for cycling: giraffes, zebras, and elands were growing blotches, stripes, and waves for an advantage over predators, so the leopard had to get its spots to keep up with sneaky prey. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? This was Leopard’s party but we can–and should–cry foul if we want to.