Monday, April 10, 2006
Curses! Curses!
The human mind searches for agency. That is, it seeks to find a larger reason behind seemingly random events. Such as why Geogre Hincapie and the Discovery Channel Team seems to always be denied their day at Paris-Roubaix.
Viewing the past seven runnings of the race, it would seem the Queen of the Classics is less the Hell of the North than a certain type of purgatory. Just like the waters of Salem would accept the righteous maidens and reject the wickedness of the witch, the paves of northern France accept those pure of heart into the velodrome of Roubaix, while summarily dismissing the others from its cobbled spine.
Stripped of the millenarian theology currently in vogue (since we’re not ones for bandwagons), the verdict, as laid down by Cosmo, is clear: Hincapie and Co. are Cursed.
Viewing the past seven runnings of the race, it would seem the Queen of the Classics is less the Hell of the North than a certain type of purgatory. Just like the waters of Salem would accept the righteous maidens and reject the wickedness of the witch, the paves of northern France accept those pure of heart into the velodrome of Roubaix, while summarily dismissing the others from its cobbled spine.
Stripped of the millenarian theology currently in vogue (since we’re not ones for bandwagons), the verdict, as laid down by Cosmo, is clear: Hincapie and Co. are Cursed.
