After last week’s rain, submersion and subsequent cancellation at FBF; it was pleasantly surprising to see the sun shining brightly on a Tuesday for a change. There was a classic cross wind blowing at a moderate gale between turns one and two, which would potentially split up the race if used with the proper amount of pressure. I’m not going to dip into the repugnant and mention that I get in any way physically excited when the wind blows at FBF, but I will admit to a slight tingling when the flags are waving on the course, as I stand a much better chance in a race that has a breakaway.

Last night I had teammate Stoffel along in the race, and last time we were at FBF between the two of us we led 8 of the 10 laps. Of course Stoffel accounted for 6 of those by himself, but you get the idea. We were off the front quite a bit, but sadly not when the race crossed the finish line (which is really the time you want to be in the front). Stoffel and I concluded that since we could hold off the pack by ourselves for a good percentage of the last FBF race, maybe by working together we could actually stay away this week and cross the line off the front at the finish.

Those of you with long memories will recall that the only time I’ve won a Tuesday night race at FBF was when I was away for nine laps with Stoffel two years ago. At that time, we were on different teams and I mercilessly came around him at the end to take the win. This time we would be working in a tandem of teammate tranquility. Which sounds nice, but in the context of a race, an attack of two teammates together is as subtle as a hand grenade in a Hummel Hut, but that was the plan.

Neither of us was in the mood for a long break, as those tend to hurt a lot, so we planned on letting the race take some hits and then escaping. We sequestered ourselves near the back and waited. With six laps to go, we came across the line and heard the bell for the green jersey sprint, conventional wisdom would have us wait for the sprint and then counter attack, but Stoffel wasn’t in a conventional state of mind and jumped from the front before we hit turn one. Stoffel is one of the most congenial and pleasant people you will ever meet, but once he gets a bike between his legs he turns into an animal that would hit the Darwin charts somewhere between a wolverine and a brahma bull. I wasn’t going to argue with a charging Stoffel, and I followed his move through the crosswind. Due to Stoffel’s bovine strength and temperament we got a gap and then settled in to suffer like a couple of guys with angry skunk bears in their trousers.

Our dual wiley weasel wrangling ended after 3 laps when we were joined by Paul Carbonara of Axis and Chris Castaldi of Wonder Wheels, this was doubly delightful, as we had two more breakaway compatriots and two strong teams would stop chasing us. We soon settled into a steady pace. After a lap or so, it became startlingly evident that Chris was on an off day, and I don’t think I’m speaking out of line here (as Chris told me after the race that he had a 101 degree fever earlier in the day) when I say that Chris looked like poached death. He still pulled through but when he would pull off, he dropped back so dramatically that the guy behind him (me) had to jump around him quickly to get back into the paceline. Eventually we told him to sit on, as he wasn’t adding any speed—and he was our golden jersey-ed ticket. He acquiesced and we began our roll to the finish.

We never had more than a straightaway’s gap in the pack, but on a windy night that distance can effectively be doubled, as the effort required to jump across is daunting. So when we crossed the line and I heard the bell signaling one lap to go, I knew we were in good shape to stay away. If we could work together for another half lap or so, and then duke it out after the last corner, we would be fine. Stoffel had his own view of the events and decided to take a huge pull between turns two and three to keep the break away, and while this was incredibly generous of him, after he pulled off the rest of us were faced with a decision. We couldn’t afford to play around yet, and pulling could jeopardize your finishing speed. Chris wasn’t in any shape to pull, Paul didn’t have to pull and was playing for the win, so that left me to take some finals pulls to ensure we stayed away. In fact we were so tentative that Stoffel caught back up to us just before turn four. I looked back and saw the pack approaching fast, so I told Stoffel to give whatever he had left, he generously did. Paul then jumped and I jumped with him. We dragged it out to the line about 50 yards in front of the pack, and I was unable to come around Paul, losing by about a half bike length.

If I am to be honest, I would say that Stoffel was by far the strongest man in the race last night, and he magnanimously decided to work for me last night. Obviously, this sort of generosity from a teammate is much more than I deserve (the leadout I really deserve from teammates is one that ends up with me flying off a cliff and landing in a muffled Looney Toons style puff of smoke), and I am very very thankful for his efforts.

Side Note from the Night

Last night was Tony Maisto’s last FBF race. I will miss his speed, his big smile, and the sight of his backside hitting the line before me in every sprint we contest. Good luck in Florida, Tony.

schmalz race report

Like I’ve said before, I will give this a two. Actually a fun night and I’m not that upset by a second place.

Last night’s head song was "Heroes" by David Bowie, cheesy in the circumstances, but inspirational nonetheless.