RACE CHRONICLES
Prodigal Pucks; Michigan Avenue; and Scalded Wildcats
September 18, 1998
by Bill Stone

Darling precious spouse has been out of the country for two weeks pushing drugs at some medical conference. This is not all bad but it does create a lot of pressure. As you know cat food cans cannot be thrown in the trash. They must be peeled and sanitized in an autoclave and then placed in a special container that has to be put out by the street to be picked up by a guy who throws them on top of a billion other special bags. Of course, newspapers have to be placed in brown grocery sacks which can only be obtained by going to the grocery and standing in the cash only line while some lady with eight dozen doughnuts and a case of Sterling beer insists on writing a check for two dollars more than the register amount. The plan was to clean about four cans and then throw the rest in the trash that fortuitously was to be picked up the day of darling spouse’s return. However, long time legal assistant Diana went over to feed the animals one afternoon and discovered the plan. She threatened to rat to the wife. So, not only had to save cans but had to go through the trash and retrieve the discarded empties. She also saw that the bagels had not been properly sealed and returned to the icebox. Then she sneaked around and found that the flowers had not been watered for a day. Because she has a key there was no way to keep her from continuing this surveillance. So, she ended up with an extra week of vacation in exchange for silence. A small price to pay.

What with dealing with all this pressure Linda writes and advised that her e-mail box was jammed with messages from Bicycling Magazine subscribers clamoring for more up beat articles by the Guest Column writer. It appeared the Chronicles are in serious jeopardy of being replaced by Rodale Press friendly operatives. Tried to assure Linda that Chronicle supporters were merely busy with the new Cindy Crawford Playboy edition and would be writing in as soon as their hands were free. Also, understand that a few of the Guys were upset that the Guest Column writer had such a desultory view of the team. Seems they want his real name. The Column was written under strict promise of anonymity. However, if any of the hair jerseys need someone to be angry towards then this writer will happily take the credit.

Before moving to the news and that’s a very lower case news or even not news please note that no one who doesn’t like the Chronicles is required to read them. This is not high school where you had to read the Scarlet Letter, which parenthetically raises the question of why the teacher would never quite describe this adultery concept in any detail. The Chronicles are also not a free sex site that you have to visit to make sure you know what your children are looking at when you aren’t home. The Chronicles are more like a free Playboy Channel night; they have to be read so that the level of disgust engendered can be discussed. Now, before you continue please be advised that some people of normal sensibilities might not appreciate the following descriptions of racing events. If you are one of these people then shut off your computer NOW and go read an exciting adventure article in Winning or write your own damn column or monitor the airways for salacious subject matter. For those who understand that the Chronicles are not even grocery line journalism then have a good time.

The week after Downer’s Grove Mrs. Stone decided she needed a weekend in Chicago. So, it was off to the ABR Master’s Nationals. Lunch at Spiagga and late night at Pane Caldo and a Friday walking all about were just the right preparation for the road race. Tom Lobdell reported that he pulled the break for practically the entire race and then lost the 50+ race in the sprint. Explained that worker bumblebees rarely win. In the forty plus race it was hot, windy and then cold and wet. Head Smack brought along two little smacks whom had never been seen before. Head advised that they were great road racers. On first lap he sends sacrificial smack up the road with another guy whom Smack advises is the best time trialer in the world except for maybe himself when he is feeling well which is not always but more often then Mercer. So, after being told that these guys were gone for good they are caught. Then there are various attacks and the field gets smaller. There is a strict yellow line rule that is followed by everyone except a few whom Nestor Jr. knocks off the roadway. Yes, there was a motorcycle escort for the entire race, and controlled intersections and very little traffic. After little smack one is blown Head Smack sends sacrificial smack 2 off to be blown around by the 40MPH wind or at least it felt like 40 MPH and for this story that is good enough. Over a hundred arrows marked the course. Smack 2 likes to ride with his hands off the bars resting upon his STI cables. He is doing this Berzin imitation as he attacks and with his head down proceeds to ride straight through the next intersection. Fortunately, it was a southbound road and thus he was headed towards Springfield. Anyway, little smack 1 gets upset when Nestor Jr. ignores his demand that Jr. go turn him around and pace him back. Told Nestor to stay put, as he was needed for wind shelter.

On last lap there is an attack of several Saddle Sores. Head Smack is busy watching the ex 7-11 pro and yells at everyone else to chase and they don’t. So, at the end one of the Saddle Sore’s wins and others take the places and Smack finishes in the second group. Puck Moleman made the second group with Smack and was 7th though he swears he was 6th. Most importantly, Moleman brought his number one son and he was in charge of handups. As for the author he was stuck with stomach pains laughing at the smack who rode off the course and missed both the first and second breaks. Got within a few seconds of Head Smack’s group before the wind and rain storm began and it was only the gale force winds and sheets of rain that kept him from winning instead of being 17th. This is true.

Back to Chicago and a great night at Brasserie Joe’s and more walking around the City. The next morning it was off the Crystal Lake. Arrived in time to see Lobdell lap the entire 50 field. He advised there was no way he was taking the same wheel suck with him two days in a row. He also advised that he was not a worker bee but a king bee at least for a day or until he got home.

It was once again windy and hot and the course was excellent. To make things worse the course was lined with hay bales. Let’s explain this again: people with allergies and asthma cannot tolerate hay. Better to hit a light post then inhale cattle feed. As you have deduced this is by way of setting up an excuse for being pulverized.

Before the race begins Chief Apache is at the start line explaining to everyone how he would have won Downer’s Grove but didn’t know it was the last lap until it was too late and that everyone who finished in front of him weren’t at the same disadvantage. Well as everyone is giving condolences Nestor busts him for having handlebar extensions. Of course, this was the highlight of the race. Anyway the race finally starts and Head Smack proceeds to get even for the day before. He simply rides away. As for author he lasts about ten laps before sitting down by the finish line. At this point medical personnel appear and a real doctor gets out of the truck. Tell him that the asthma ploy is being used as an excuse and for doctor not to blow it. He insists on doing an exam and giving treatment. So, this excuse is really working and then nurse wife shows up and says: "Don’t pay any attention. He’s just trying to hide the fact that he couldn’t go fast enough. There’s nothing really wrong with him except his ego has been crushed." The doctor says he’s not a psychiatrist but he knows that getting dropped is pretty horrible and he understands how a person would fake an illness so as not to have to be seen as a failure in front of his peers. There was nothing left to do except leave which pleased wife, as she wanted to get home to watch a garden show.

Note to Chief Apache. Get a haircut. Even Dave Fishel recognizes that pony tails are long out of style.

As noted by the Guest Columnist a lot of racers focused their entire season on the Governor’s Cup Series. Thus, the parking lot at Ft. Ben was filled with a lot of serious cyclists so many of whom needed a good result to validate their summer effort. Child Molester Wools was leading the overall cat 2 series with Bumblebee Jordan and without any teammates. However, unknown to the Molesters, Puck Whitlock came over from Dayton and offered his assistance to Jordan. Apparently, at some point series leader Wools became so upset with Whitlock’s efforts that he asked him "do you know who I am" and to which Whitlock rejoined in true Puck fashion that "he didn’t really care who he was or even who he might become." According to former Puck Morris Girl who was along for the ride and show, this so upset the sensitive soul that he rode off the road on the uphill and took with him Handjobs Brooks and Davis who could only ask "what did we do." Well, with his competition busy trying to crawl back onto the course it was easy work for Jordan to take enough points to win the series. To their credit the Molesters did not insist on taking back all the primes they donated to the race.

The rest of the races were pretty boring and not really worth Chronicle coverage. Freddie won the sprint in the 35+ race. The author would have won the 40+ race except electron wheel fell apart on the downhill with one to go-well actually there were two to go because in all the excitement of giving away primes Dan forgot how to count lap. While on the subject primes was the only interesting part of the race. First, author tries to get a prime only to be passed by about a dozen faster guys and Puck Moleman rides away with a gear bag for his number 1 son. So, Mercer rides up and says to either stay out of the way or go faster and that he should have won the prime but it was too slow and what was the idea of letting Moleman win. So, advised him that race was being ridden to keep him was doing well and he’d better get used to it. Then we go around again and Dan announces a prime for the 50+ field that started with us and Mercer thinks he said $50.00 prime which is not possible because Governor won’t permit money to be given away at the State Park game, but Mercer attacks and rides entire lap by himself only to find he didn’t win anything much less $50.00. Of course, he could have won the 50+ prime but he had not entered that race because he is not really 50+ which is true in the sense that he acts like he is 12 but then that is a requirement for being a Puck except for Moleman who acts much older which almost but not quite makes up for the rest.

A couple weeks ago on the Handguys’s Website Bulletin Boards the guy who fell down at Brookside wanted to know if he’d get recognized for winning a race at Ft. Ben. Okay, that guy won. He also, put his hands up and almost swerved into the lane of the second place rider which would then have gotten him in the title of this Chronicle. Keep trying.

On Labor Day it was off to Lexington. This you’ll recall is the race where if you are a Cat II you cannot compete and if you are a woman Cat II you have to race with the men. Promoter apologized and said his club outvoted him. Arrived in time to see Whitlock and Dennis take 4 and 5 in the Cat III race but with explanation. If seems that the officials went from three to go to one to go and left out two to go. A break of two or three thus stayed away. In the Cat II race the Marsupials made a mess of things from the beginning. Lead out the sprint from the uphill corner and was passed by everyone in group and was 15^th. One of the rats won. Best part of race was talking to accountant Giles. Told him that Shake had been talking about the previous week’s race in Dayton. Beancounter says he couldn’t understand how Grant could have seen anything as busy as he had been ordering people around. Tell him that Grant had been very complimentary about how smart Beancounter raced at which point he comments on how observant and tactically proficient Shake has become since his last comment.

On Monday arrive in time to watch the 35+ race. A break develops and not a single Lexington Wildcat can make the split. They couldn’t even put a team member in their own manufactured Master’s race. Perhaps next year they can put in the race flyer that only riders who have never been in break or who sign a promise not to ride away without them present will be able to compete. Anyway, the race ends up being dominated by downgraded Cat 2s and Bob Brooks beats the two really strong guys from Louisville for the win. Then to put it all in perspective Bob tells me he’d trained with Jordan the day before, drank too much beer and came to Lexington just to punctuate the foolishness of trying to categorize Master’s racing. Then to complete this theme Jane-don’t know her last name-from the Hospital Team proceeds to easily win the Women’s III IV race which was great for her and proves again why women should do the Southeastway training race.

Speaking of Southeastway Pucks Whitlock and Dennis won on consecutive in August. These two were part of the original Columbus, Indiana group that started racing in the 80’s. That’s the limit of nostalgia permitted by Team Puck rules. Back to Lexington.

In the Cat III race Dennis took the first prime and Whitlock attacked off the prime. This was their actual plan. There was a seven man break. Whitlock attacked on the last lap and had time to comb his hair before crossing the finish line. Dennis was 10^th.

Now, a lot could be written about the Cat II race but it is memory best forgotten. The Rats attacked and went away early. The wind split the field into groups of two and three. Couldn’t go 10 MPH into the wind. With four to go asked officials if it was okay to quit and be given position. Had to finish. Fortunately, leaders lapped us again with 2 to go so a lap was saved. Finished 11^th with cramps. Never want to ride again. Felt so bad that Dennis had to drive home which is to say that life was not very important consideration at that time.

Arrived home to find phone instructions on the answering machine from Wife in Vienna. Seems secretary had sent her Fax about things. Couldn’t find any cats to kick. Its always good to come home.

Ride slowly the season’s over.

Bill Stone