Ordinarily on this blog, I’d take today to tell you about the race I did last night at Miller Motorsports Park. I’d tell you about how I stupidly sprinted for the prime a lap early because of a spectator ringing a cowbell. I’d tell you about Eric E. making a solo break with the strength of ten men (because that’s how many chasing together it took to bring him back). I’d tell you about what I learned from racing with The Rev or about Rich B’s sizzling sprint that was so strong neither Mike nor I could get around him.
But I’ve had enough of talking. Maybe it’s because the season is winding up and people are getting it all out of their systems before it's too late, but the bitching, whining, and drama that ordinarily make racing so endearing have risen to a fever pitch.
In the last week, I’ve been accused of being lazy, been yelled at for not pulling through after covering an attack, and had a guy lambast my team for our tactical choices and accuse the guys he’s in a break with and whose cooperation he needs of not knowing how to ride in a paceline.
And that’s just on the road bike. On the mountain biking side of the sport, I’ve seen people announce ad nauseum that they’re excited for the upcoming point-to-point race (as if we somehow didn’t already know). I’ve seen two different people publish their detailed race strategy plans (as if anyone actually cared what someone else’s race strategy was). And then of course there are the guys who are trying to convince everyone else how tough they are because in their minds PCPP is a “real” MTB course, while Leadville is not. Need I remind you that only one of the two courses is ever more than 15 minutes from the nearest McDonald’s?
I’m guilty of it as well—my diatribe about guys who choose to ride singlespeeds and then proceed to complain about how hard it is to ride a singlespeed is example enough.
(The ‘cross racers have been conspicuously quiet.)
It’s time to be done talking and get on your bike. Laurent Fignon believed that it was not enough to win—one needed also to win with panache. But as Mike so bluntly countered on our way to the race yesterday, you can’t have any panache if you don’t win. And while I’m new-age, touchy-feely, liberal mamby-pamby enough to allow that how we define winning varies from person to person and event to event, the rule that there’s no I in team but there are three u’s in STFU still applies. So let’s add some STFU to the HTFU and let our results speak for themselves.