FBF 3/4ths race, September 1, 2009

Like the shortening of the days, or the moment when tank tops get switched to shirts that are merely sleeveless at parks for trailers across the country, there are tell-tale signs that another summer has slipped away from us. One of the sure signs of summer’s euthanizing is the end of the Tuesday Night Races at FBF. When the sun finally sets on the last FBF race, the cycling summer officially ends; prompting some to end their seasons; and prompting others to continue racing or even to try cyclocross – a sport I have never tried but I hear involves dirt, knobby tires and something called "running". And so we began our final Tuesday night assault on glory and large cash prizes – wait, you didn’t know that winning at FBF meant a shower of riches for those lucky winners? That’s because it doesn’t – I just lied to you as a test of your local cycling knowledge – pay attention as there will be more test questions in this journal entry.

For me the end of the Tuesday night races means a few things. Firstly, I will no longer wake on Wednesday mornings feeling like a used prophylactic, I will instead arise as if I were a fresh, new prophylactic, ready to take on the world. Secondly, I will be deprived of the treat of second hand smoking with Mr I. as he paces the 3/4 field in his car – did you know he runs over an average of at least 4 racers a year? That’s because he doesn’t! (Question two.) The absence of these elements in my life will of course leave a hole that will require filling with intoxicants, light therapy and programming from the Bravo Network. And last night had enough potential drama to fill an episode of "The Real Housewives of New Jersey" (but not "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" – those gals are crazy), as the top two spots on the GC for the season were separated by 3 points, with Tony Maisto ahead of Alessandro Matteuci. Wonder Wheels has been racing all season with an eye on the overall, so I had figured that they would not have an issue with a group of enterprising individuals breaking away from the race and taking up all the points (I also knew this because they told me before the race that if a break got away, they wouldn’t mind it – it’s almost as if I’m clairvoyant sometimes), so this meant that Alessandro and his BVF teammates would have to get Alessandro into a break (which would mean a chase from Wonder) or chase down any attacks; in the hope that Alessandro could beat Tony in the sprint. The race basically boiled down to whether a break could get away from Alessandro and BVF, and since I enjoy winning (it helps with my goal of becoming the most famous Northern New Jersey cycling diarist), my best chance at glory would be to try and get away from the race without Alessandro – as his presence would prompt mayhem from behind.

And that’s how our evening began, there was a light wind that came from directly overhead (question three); and there was a big pack which meant the chances for a breakaway were about as likely as a Blagojevich/Palin Libertarian presidential ticket – but of course, that doesn’t mean you don’t try. And try we did, I think there were about 45 attacks during the race, all of which were either joined by Alessandro from his perch at the front of the pack or chased down by his BVF teammates. I was really impressed by Alessandro’s tenacity, he never left the front of the race, and probably jumped to about 10 attacks on his own – only to find that he was relentlessly chased by Wonder Wheels. And that’s pretty much how the race played out, a series of attacks covered by BVF who were in turn covered by Wonder Wheels. The sprint writing was put on the wall in big flowing cursive letters – the whole season would come down to the final kick. I tried one last desperate move with about a lap to go, and that went as well as a Gypsy Kings cover of "Iron Man". I collected myself and prepared to try and help teammate Frank in the sprint, as success there meant he would jump to third place in the GC.

But alas, as we came into the sprint, I didn’t have enough fuel left in my tank (I run on a combination of ether and methane) to be much use to Frank. He would be left alone to face the mayhem of the sprint for the title of "Master of all the Earthly Beasts" (that’s question four – the sprint was actually for a yellow shirt). He represented himself well, taking second to Scot Savory, and managed to avoid the bustle behind, which saw Tony finishing ahead of Alessandro, and taking the overall title – which once again, did not involve becoming the Overlord of All Creatures.

Side Notes from the Night

David Chomowicz had the misfortune of being swept to the exfoliating concrete of the FBF runway, breaking his collarbone in the process, here’s hoping that he has a speedy recovery.

The night’s head song was Salad Days by Minor Threat, which to me, has an opening that is the punk rock equivalent of the theme to "Rocky". If I were a relief pitcher, this would be the music I would have playing as I jogged to the mound. And if I were a relief pitcher, I would also grow a handlebar mustache so large, it would make Rollie Fingers look like a eunuch.