Taosman
Your Cousin In New Mexxico
From a Bicycling Magazine article. Sad state of athletics.
LAST AUGUST, MITCH COMARDO, A 22-YEAR-OLD CATEGORY 1 BIKE RACER from Houston, Texas, lined up beside me at Austin's popular training race, the Driveway Series. The criterium, held on a twisty car racetrack, is an institution in my hometown and draws riders from across the state, but it's not exactly a marquee event: For college kids like Comardo, entry is only $15. Prizes include socks and coffee. Spectators range from family members to fixed-gear-riding hipsters to the occasional city council member. The low-key, communal atmosphere and packed field represent everything that's right about amateur bike racing. We're out there only because we love the sport.
Comardo attacked from the gun and rode the first four 2-mile laps off the front before the group finally brought him back. Then he attacked again. We struggled to hold his wheel as he flew down the long, flat straightaways at 35 mph. Comardo didn't win, but by the end of the hour-long race he'd asserted himself as the strongest rider. Afterward, as my teammates and I rode home, one of us joked, "Man, what's Mitch on?"
Amateur cyclists who dope - bicycling.com
LAST AUGUST, MITCH COMARDO, A 22-YEAR-OLD CATEGORY 1 BIKE RACER from Houston, Texas, lined up beside me at Austin's popular training race, the Driveway Series. The criterium, held on a twisty car racetrack, is an institution in my hometown and draws riders from across the state, but it's not exactly a marquee event: For college kids like Comardo, entry is only $15. Prizes include socks and coffee. Spectators range from family members to fixed-gear-riding hipsters to the occasional city council member. The low-key, communal atmosphere and packed field represent everything that's right about amateur bike racing. We're out there only because we love the sport.
Comardo attacked from the gun and rode the first four 2-mile laps off the front before the group finally brought him back. Then he attacked again. We struggled to hold his wheel as he flew down the long, flat straightaways at 35 mph. Comardo didn't win, but by the end of the hour-long race he'd asserted himself as the strongest rider. Afterward, as my teammates and I rode home, one of us joked, "Man, what's Mitch on?"
Amateur cyclists who dope - bicycling.com