The Racing Chronicles

MANHATTAN: A Crash on the Beach; A Fall in the Park

by Bill Stone

February 2001

Cannery Row and Tortilla Flats tell the stories of immigrants and fisheries in Monterey before it was walled. Rudy Ferdandez is the publisher of the sentinel Southern California Racing News. Best as can be determined Rudy migrated from the Tortilla to be in the Navy and then settled on the beach. Upon arriving at LAX late last July self was greeted by Rudy resplendent is his Labor Power Tee. At the curb Rudy unchained his bike and rode off to get his vehicle. He later advised that surfers never pay for parking. A few hours later he returns from the one-mile drive and off we go down the commuter lane of the expressway at twelve miles an hour. Now, Rudy has one of the original VW Vans and your Chronicler immediately flashes and recalls that VW Vans can only be driven by those in the throws of Reefer Madness. In deference to self's need to preserve his license to loot and pillage Rudy temporizes and settles for bumps of brown tequila. The fifty mile six hour drive passed quickly as Rudy explained with geographical backdrop the entire history of Southern California and how he had lived in comfort with no visible means of support. Now, being as how the Darling Wife has for twenty years been trying to determine how yours truly makes a living without any extant talent other than being difficult self came away greatly admiring the Rude.

Max Kash Agro pulled his head out a bucket of ice and explained that previous night's Sting concert had been a great deal of fun even if he couldn't remember it and that if yours truly insisted upon doing the really old guys race at the Rose Bowl to take the car but not to wake him on the way out. So, at the totally foreign hour of six self was off for the four hour sixty mile drive to Pasadena. Upon arrival saw a most unusual sight. Children were actually running around in the field in front of the Rose Bowl. Miss the break of three. With two to go bridge to second group of two. Find out that racing is the same all over. Two companions say: "you'll have to pull us around because we have team mates in the break which is only a minute ahead." Do the thirty five plus race with Labor and hang on back while telling everyone "got three guys up the road" and "can't bridge if you insist on going along." With five to go get forced to the front when can't hit brakes fast enough. Labor Hawkstar looks over and says "we must really be going slow if he's up here." Tell Star that self didn't have to travel across the world to be insulted and of course he asks "where do you usually go? Take to sideline for thirty plus pro master race. Labor Cop gets in three man break. Labor guy starts to look green. A diversion to introduce a new player is necessary. Anne is the Revered Wife of MKA, Texas U swim star and author of legal articles with colons in the middle. She exhorts Labor to chase. Three laps later she realizes that green was just the color of money and chastens MKA to get his head out of the ice and stop screwing up the race by chasing his teammate. Which is only to prove yet again that a foolish consistency is indeed the hobgoblin of little minds. Drove around Pasadena for three hours waiting for a parking spot. Server loses self's food order and upon inquiry tell MKA that waitress advised that restaurant didn't serve fat people. MKA then repeats this when his Revered Wife returns to the table and she fixes him with the stare. Apparently, the silence of the six-hour ride back to the beach was punctuated only by the standard sensitivity lesson. The ice glaze only relented upon the Revered One's realizing that MKA was not capable of creating the gaff. Expect he'd rather have continued to endure than be revealed.

Rudy is standing next to the Butt Whizz Shave Cream and Wax Parlor booth that occupies the median of the ellipse around which the Manhattan Beach Closer Festa takes place. He is dressed in a pre drool days Brian Wilson shirt and is humming the lyrics of a Jan and Dean medley. He explains that the twenty feet by one-mile ellipse is the only undeveloped plot of grass left in Southern California that lies within a mile of the ocean but that it is soon to be subject to an oil harvest. Rudy says that he knows the Butt Whizz owner and that perhaps a free wax job could be obtained upon a promise of Chronicle time. The owner advises that he has this stuff and that no customer who would put down twenty dollars to buy four ounces of hair remover was about to read the Chronicles and for us to move on. At this point Rudy notices that self is not in the race. It is a short story. Fifteen minutes into the fifty minute race am minding own business when there is a crash. Come to a stop and get yelled at by the one person who is even slower and also has to stop but is now indignant that he did not get to fall down. Explain to him the concept of a free lap and proceed around to talk to a Blue Shirt. He explains that the race had just been shortened to ensure that the Ladies of Speed get to race their full three clicks of the sundial. Now, normally at this point the Chronicle tact would be to point this out as another example of the USCF sucking the marrow of fun; however it appears in retrospect that the gentleman was merely suffering a sympathetic cranial synapse lapse brought on by the So Cal electrical crisis. Besides, self was now occupied with his crash companion's demands that self reimburse him for this entry fees and lost first place money. Mercifully, the Darling Wife interceded. "This is a course for finishers. Everyone knows that Bill couldn't even close on Shelley Levene. The real Ricky Roma would never be hanging out behind Bill. Now, go away before you make him cry."

Meanwhile back in the parking lot MKA is overloaded on free espresso samples. Knowing that only stupidity is original he steals from Andrew Cooper. His exhortation to his Labor mates was something like this: "Anger is good. Look at the glare of the boxer, the stare of the shooter, the dare of the downhill racer. We must let the anger rise and then contain it rather than lose it or choke on it and then precisely before the last apex let it expend itself not in panic but controlled fury." The Darling Wife stage whispers that he left out the "flare of the flairer" and his brother tells him that he should perhaps put the wheel with the cluster on the back of the bike and that's pretty much how the race went too.

What with the election fast approaching a trip to 52th Street to see Vidal's "The Best Man" was in order. The hero gives up his bid to be President to ensure that a vexatious moralizer does not get the nomination. Regrettably, it was not portentous. The subway stop for Broadway and Central Park West is at Columbus Circle. Before it was revealed as the Stop a political contributor learned of the location and bought up the real estate in this then undeveloped location. Of course the insider then sold the land to the City and kicked back to the comptroller who had approved the price. The seller made enough money to open an investment bank. The motto of Smith-Barney should be "We make money the old fashioned way-we steal it." Discerning Chronicle readers have no doubt noted that the Shrub's patrons learned this lesson well as Mr. Bush the Minor made his fortune when the owners of the Texas Rangers got the City to condemn property for a stadium and then let the owners sell the left over property to merchant friends. But enough of these sour anchovies. Self was in New York City on the trail of the drugs in cycling story.

Six Day racing was very big during the Depression and gangsters used to offer large primes in the early morning hours. As you'll recall some of the suspects in the suspicious death of Arnold Rothstein-several self inflicted gun shot wounds to the head-were reported to have been in Madison Square Garden on that night. Runyon, The Brain Goes Home. Regardless, it is suspected that drugs were often used during these extravaganzas. While the Darling Wife was in Central Park practicing her New York Marathon up raised arm finish self was exiting cab in mid-town in front of the old home of James MacDonald. Mr. MacDonald was a noted turf writer and in his day was generally recognized as being most astute in the ways of Chemically Assisted Racing. Alas, the doorman reported that Jimmy had expired some fifty years earlier at the age of ninety something but that he could put me in touch with a clairvoyant who regularly consulted with Jimmy about such matters. So, not just a little chagrined went over to Madison and Sixtieth to meet the Darling Wife. While eating in one of the ubiquitous French eateries where you have to have two ringing cell phones, a pager, and a reservation the ever helpful Darling Wife asks the waiter if he knows anything about drugs and cycling what with so many athletes showing up with high birth control metabolites after eating French fries. He refers us to his friend who is newly in from France and working as a hairdresser just down the street. The Darling Wife suggests that it is perhaps time for self's semiannual haircut and that paying $70.00 is a small price to pay for research and besides they would probably throw in an enzyme wash. The hairdresser turns out to be quite helpful although self sort of imagined this investigative reportage should have resulted from a smoky meeting at P.J. Clarks. Anyway, Pierre -not his real name- as it turned out had a friend who had been a pro just last year but had quit because he couldn't win because he wouldn't take drugs-not even French fries. This rider had confided that everyone in the peloton except the French were using drugs and that if the others weren't the French would win all the races except the ones that weren't important. So, there you have the international news; but what about domestically.

Your Chronicler meet Greg Strock when he was with Banesto and was home recovering from his now claimed drug induced illness. He used to ride around Brown County Park all day and then show up for the five o-clock ride where everyone would show him how good they were. When last heard from he and Dennis were closing the tattoo bars in Muncie and telling each other liquor truths. He is not an illiterate nose studded never was though that will no doubt be the tact undertaken by the apologists for the sanctimonious. Anyway, we here at the Chronicles thought you might want to know how a defense to Mr. Stock's suit will be constructed. Now, keep in mind that everything you read below is completely made up and bears no resemblance to the truth. With that enjoinder we invite you to a meeting between USCF attorney Black Bart and new Head Fed Steve Johnson.

Steve Johnson (SJ): Bart, if what this kid says is true we owe it to him to make it right.

Black Bart (BB): Sure, sure. But, I've got kids to send to college and you've got money to raise so you don't have to fly super saver middle seats to the Worlds and so we want to make certain we don't make it too right. After all this is the future of the USCF we are talking about; it's not just about my kids and your airline comfort.

SS: I think I get your point. So, how do we protect the Federation?

BB: Well, first we will undertake a full and complete investigation of the facts and if anything turns up that is bad we can keep it from the other side because it will now be matters discovered in the course of preparing a defense and thus not subject to discovery.

SS: But what about any documents.

BB: Being as how no one who has ever worked here could write that shouldn't be a problem and besides things often get lost.

SS: I see your point. I don't suspect anyone was stupid enough to write down that someone was fired for sticking needles in kids' butts. But, what if someone who worked here says that was exactly what happened.

BB: Disgruntled employees who are now selling hardware don't make good witnesses. As for the rest they are involved in cycling. What do you suppose would happen if they told the truth? Not to worry. I'll talk to them.

SS: But what about the Kid. After all he is going to be a doctor. We can't exactly call him a ner do well with a grudge.

BB. Won't get that far. First, we'll hit him with a Motion to Dismiss for failing to file within the Statute of Limitations and that will be turned into a Summary Judgment Motion.

SS: Explain that to me.

BB: A person claiming he has been suffered bodily injury has two years from the date of the injury to file suit. So, the Kid had two years from when he got sick which was in the early nineties.

SS: So, we win?

BB: Maybe not. You see there is a quirk in that some courts give a guy two years from the date he knew or should have known what caused his illness. You notice that in his Velo News interview the Kid was very circumspect to point out that he only suspected that the injections caused his injury when he learned in pharmacology class that cortisone causes immune deficiency disease. So, the Kid's lawyer will argue that the suit was filed within two years of this epiphany.

SJ: So, he will win on that Motion.

BB: Not that quickly. We will present evidence that he knew this well before his medical school class. We'll find out whom he rode with after his illness and whom he roomed with at College and everyone he ever talked to. We'll find someone who will tell us that the Kid was suspicious and you can bet we'll find someone who doesn't like him.

I mean just look at Adam Myerson's recent letter to the Editor of Velo News.

SJ: You mean where he says that Greg rode great the year after his illness and quit because he just didn't have the stomach for it.

BB: Now, you're beginning to understand. By the way that blow he took to the head certainly didn't affect Mr. Myerson's thinking and that rule change to proscribe battery upon a fellow rider after a race didn't hurt.

SJ: So, we'll win and what will that take, a couple of months?

BB: No, we'll lose but it will take a couple of years for us to complete the discovery necessary to argue the motion. But then we'll hit him with Daubert.

SJ: What's Dilbert got to do with it?

BB: Not the cartoon, the seminal case on junk science. Several years ago the National Manufacturers Association, the Citizens for Constructive Justice, the Chamber of Commerce, the Americans for Fair Laws, the Flat Earth Society and few thousand other purveyors of plague, death and destruction convinced the courts that all science prior to the turn of the twentieth century could not be used in court unless it had been published in professional journals approved by them.

SJ: So?

BB: Well we will file a four hundred page Motion for Summary Judgment claiming that cortisone cannot be proven to cause any of the diseases the Kid claims to have contracted. We will show that all his symptoms were just as likely caused by drinking day old Gatorade. You know the way the military claimed that Desert Strom soldiers were just depressed. I know a naturopath and a Manchurian nutritionist who will be more than happy to sign affidavits for us. They will insist on being paid in cash.

SJ: So, that will be the end of it?

BB: Of course not. They will file a three page Brief with the Affidavit signed by a real doctor. In fact they may argue that they are entitled to fees because our Motion was frivolous.

SJ: So, we would have to pay you a hundred thousand to write a Motion you know we'll lose and then we have to pay his lawyer.

BB: Well you got the first part correct but we won't have to pay the Kid's lawyer. I made certain to hire a law firm that just hired the Judge's son in law. We throw them a few thousand for appearing with us being as how we're from out of town and all and the Judge will not only deny their Motion for fees but also probably scold them for taking up his valuable gold fish tending time.

SJ: But isn't it wrong for a Judge to hear a case in which his son in law is involved.

BB: First of all we will swear that the son in law didn't work on the case and being as the son in law only shows up to get his paycheck this can't be gainsaid. Second, federal judges are not circumscribed by any ethical rules. You note that Clarence Thomas didn't get out of Bush v. Gore just because his wife was working for Bush.

Anyway, this Motion will take about three years or until the judge's daughter gets the mortgage paid down. And of course we'll then put it off for another year or so because of the press of the 2004 Olympics.

SJ: So, how do we win at trial?

BB: Nancy Reagan.

SJ: Say What?

BB: No, but you are close. "Just Say No."

SJ: Explain:

BB: Ever since Ronnie was in office the prevailing myth has been propagated that everything that happens to someone is because of his own actions. It frees us of the moral quandary of how much we owe to others. We defense lawyers call it the doctrine of personal responsibility. Against all evidence the Billy Bennetts of the world continue to tell parents that if they just tell their kids not to use drugs they won't. I won't even go into the anomaly of a man who has never skipped lightly past the Sizzler Buffet telling drug users to show some restraint. So, we get programs like DARE which don't and can't work because it makes parents feel good and frees them from having to do things that really work-like being honest. Anyway, we make sure to get a jury of these people. Then we argue that Mr. Stock, by now a full fledged doctor, has known ever since he was a child that he shouldn't be injecting himself and that any adult who did so would have been known to him to be the PUSHER MAN.

SJ: Yeah, but kids rely on coaches and what if the jurors don't buy it.

BB: That's where we use an epidemiologist.

SJ: A skin doctor.

BB: No, an expert on drugs and causation. The Kid has to prove that he took a drug, that the drug he took caused him to be sick and that he has suffered injury as a result.

First, he doesn't know what if any drug he took and we aren't going to tell him unless someone rats us out. Second, he will use an expert to explain that the high correlation between the drug he doesn't know he took and his illness is so high as to be causal. We simply have our own expert to say that what his expert calls causation is correctly interpreted as scatter. You know the cigarette defense; yes people who smoke get cancer but random laws of chance can explain it.

SJ: But the cancer defense is ridiculous.

BB: Really. No plaintiff has ever recovered a dime. The defense is silly but it gives jurors a chance to do what they want, which is denying someone stupid enough to smoke any money.

SJ: I think I see. The jury will not see a young bike rider at the plaintiff's table. They will see a doctor.

BB: And when they see a doctor they see themselves waiting for hours for a rich kid who was out buying his new Porsche. And they just can't wait to get even.

SJ: So, let me get this straight. It's not about whether the USCF did or did not have an employee who injected kids with cortisone. Rather, it's about saving our Olympic Team.

BB: Not to mention my condo at Beaver Creek.

SJ: Thanks for clearing this up. Now, go and do good deeds.

The Darling Wife and self were discussing this drug business while absorbing second hand Luckies' smoke at the Chatterbox. "Bill, I am singularly unconcerned. You and your fellow adolescents would do well to stop conflating sport heroes, role models and celebrity. While you wax nonsense the local Falwellians just atomized the idea of putting an evolutionary walk in the local park because it teaches kids the wrong things." You don't have to be an astronomy teacher or even a wizard to know that free speech is in trouble and that its going to be a long dark four years. At least there are still books at our house and that's just one reason it's always good to go home.

Ride Fast and Take Chances.

Bill Stone