An Introduction And A Race Report

Well you made it. Somehow you found the number one cycling site on the interweb. Congratulations...your life will never be the same. This site was set up to update the masses on the happenings of the #1 pro cycling team that hasn't made it pro yet. We are told our pro license is on its way, so we wait patiently. A complete introduction to the team and its members is a post for a later time. For now, just know that we are incredibly handsome and incredibly Belgian.

For now, I will update you on our first team race of the season. The historic race titled the TBI Copperas Cove Classic.

After the soigneur loaded up the team bus with the equipment and strategically hid the "special" supplements from sight and scent of any federal K-9's or UCI drug testers we were on our way.

Gorgeous.

Now I know what you're thinking...Why are there only two bikes loaded up, and why is your team bus a slightly used Toyota Tacoma? Well, to answer the first question, we only have so much EPO to go around which left us limited to signing only 3 riders to the team thus far. And to answer the second question, Toyota is a team sponsor. A bad sponsor, but a sponsor none the less.

After heading out and realizing that we left behind our 3rd racer, Nasty Goat, the 2 racers that did make the trip, The Professional and Prison, began arguing over who would be the others lead out. After much bickering, silence, hugging, and more bickering we reached the race site. If you've never been to Copperas Cove, it definitely lives up to its title as Texas' 27th nicest city.

After being greeted by many many fans, signing autographs, and punching our team manager in the face for not having a jar of red peanut M&Ms waiting for us we headed over to the packet pick up. This was where the problems began. The team was very confused because as we searched out the correct line we were unable to find the sign for "Cat 5 Elite."

American Flag Bandannas Are Fredtacular.

After more bickering, hugging and being promised by the race directors that we wouldn't be drug tested, we agreed to race in the detestable category known as "Cat 5."

To make things worse, our race numbers weren't pre-crinkled as promised. We began to wonder if this whole thing was a bad dream.

You Call That Crinkled?

We headed back to the bus to unload the bikes, apply a generous amount of embrocation, take our "special" supplements, and meditate.

Very Sexy.

Possibly Sexier.

As the race started the team began to settle into a rhythm when suddenly something happened. Now before I say what happened, know that the race was full of Freds with no idea what it takes to make it as a "Cat 5 Elite." So naturally one of them, shaking in worry from being in the mere presence of Team Gato Cinco members, hit his brakes causing The Professional to touch wheels and go over face first into a ditch. Now mind you, while he did crash, the manner that he did it in was completely pro. After realizing his right shifter was cracked and couldn't ride on, The Professional got to his feet, pointed to the Belgian blood spilling from his wounds to the ground, and whispered, "You're welcome Copperas Cove."

No Longer Pro.

Prison, not knowing that his teammate had gone down in glorious fashion, spent the rest of the race in anger wondering where his leadout was. This anger obviously caused his heart rate to rise above his desired zone and made shooting off the front no longer an option. He was forced to stay with the pack. After staying with a lead break and rolling through mild hills and "pave" that the great Tom Boonen wouldn't even bother to piss on, Prison decided with 3 miles to go to let up and give someone else a chance at winning. And being the gracious rider that he is, he not only let someone else win...he let 10 people by, taking a miserable 11th place.

After reaching the finish line Prison, realizing that The Professional hadn't bitched out and indeed did crash, immediately took back the things he said about him on the road. In order to avoid the media, who would undoubtedly have questions about the wreck and Prison's obvious generosity, the "bus" was quickly loaded up and the team sought out a place to eat and allow The Professional time to lick his wounds.

Worse In Person.

Very Gato-like.

We spotted the only restaurant pro enough for a team of our stature. Americans call it IHOP...we call it pro, because it's international. We ordered the only thing on the menu that our Belgian stomachs could digest and headed back home.

French Toast Is For Pussies.

All in all the 2010 TBI Copperas Cove Classic was a complete waste of time. Hopefully in a few days the Tour of New Braunfels will live up to our highly set standards. Until then...vaarwel.

- Prison