The Balls!

Victory at the team time trial had been accomplished. Texas beat MSU by less than 2 seconds, which was equal to about how long the aerodynamically disadvantaged Jacob pulled for, so sprits were high. His spirits were also high because he thought that he would get a pretty gold medal for partaking in the winning effort, which would be the first time the bike had earned anything for him, besides a quarter he found on the road once. Also exciting was fellow Austinite Lance Armstrong riding with him.

Lance: Jacob!
Jacob: Lance!
Lance: Dude, I’ve been a huge fan of yours for a long time, it’s an honor to finally meet you.
Jacob: Thanks Lance, you too.
Lance: Hey, after the race, can you sign my copy of your book, ‘It’s not about the Blog’?
Jacob: Sure thing.
Lance: Wow, cool, thanks. You know, your story of going through college while maintaining peak performance at the Cat 4 level has been really inspiring for both me and my friends.
Jacob: Enough about me though, how’ve you been?
Lance: Pretty good, my broken collarbone has given me a lot of time off, it’s been pretty relaxing.
Jacob: Yeah?

Lance: Yeah, I’ve been reevaluating why I got into cycling in the first place.
Jacob: Why’s that?
Lance: The balls, Jacob, the balls.
Jacob: But don’t you just-
Lance: You know, I thought about quitting when I was diagnosed with brain, lung and testicular cancer, all at the same time. But I got back on the bike, because it would show people I had balls. And I won the Tour, for the balls. Then it became habitual. Then I retired early, then I returned – for the balls.
Jacob: Ballsy stuff.
Lance: I’m like a ball pit of balls, Jacob. It’s an awesome feeling.

Jacob: That’s actually pretty creepy Lance.
Lance: In the end, it’s not about victory. Sometime someone’ll sit-in in a breakaway, not pull and take the sprint. He has victory, but it’s meaningless. The guy who attacked to create the winning break – he’s got balls, which is more important than victory.
Jacob: Sure that you’re not compensating for something?
Lance: I’ve won seven Tours, I have nothing to compensate for.
Jacob: Makes sense. So it’s all about balls you say…

Inspired by Lances exposition on the merits of having balls, and knowing that the home-town fans wanted some fireworks, Jacob attacked.

Lance: Pretty good attack Jacob, too bad that Tech guy chased you down.
Jacob: Yeah, I was hoping to tire an MSU guy.
Lance: You can’t always get what you want Jacob, but if you try sometime, you’ll find you get what you need…
Jacob: I think I need everyone else to crash to have a shot at victory.
Lance: Jacob, it’s not about victory, it’s about the balls. Attack again.

Jacob: But I just did.
Lance: Either use a women’s saddle from now on or attack again. Also, I will hurt you.
Jacob: Yes, Lance.

Jacob attacked again.

Lance: Yes, that is how you endear yourself. That and the cancer.
Jacob: I feel like my balls are big enough and that I don’t need to attack again.
Lance: I’d disagree, but you’ll learn in time. Time to win the sprint finish.

Jacob: But I’m so tired!
Lance: This is something you must do.
Jacob: Oh fine, I’ll move up with two to go.
Lance: We’re half-way through the last lap. Sprint up, then sprint again.
Jacob: I can’t.
Lance: Balls! Balls! Balls!
Jacob: I’ll try.

Try he did. Did not he did as well.


The Fantastic Four

Assebled for the Men's B Team Time Trial was a squad of heroes ulike any other yet unleashed on the world...

Mat Von Panke - Strong German triathlete turned cyclist, with superhuman nutritional knowledge

Jacob Dodgsen - Norwegian climber and breakaway artist best known for impressive pack finishes and a small amount of cyclocross skills

Danelo DiVarelo - Punchy Italian climber and time trial specialist - always a GC threat

Johnathan Caputon - Another strong Italian, with breakaway skills and the guts to get in them, he sweats pure olive oil

Needless to say, their victory was complete.

Clawing back up

It was the end of the UT road race, and it was just Jacob and three aggies. With an MSU rider up the road. As well as five other people. Considering though that Jacob got dropped quite early in the first lap, and had caught up to a bunch of people, it wasn’t a bad place to be. Except for the Aggies. But as it turned out, it was they who feared him…

Jacob: Hey guys, can I join the discussion?
Aggie: No.
Jacob: You’re planning how to attack me right?
Aggie: This is possible.
Jacob: So are we not chasing the guy up the road then?
Aggie: Uh, if you want to…
Jacob: I’d work-
Aggie: All the work?
Jacob: No.

Just then two aggies went up the road, the other stayed behind to block Jacob the only way he knew how, brake-checking him.

Aggie: You’re the one they call Thunderthighs Dodson?

Jacob: The very same. Now stand aside!
Aggie: Never!

And so they dueled. Jacob attacking, the aggie throwing on the brakes. It was a dance, it was beauty, it was a battle royale. It was also damned annoying.

Jacob: Time to end this nonsense

Aggie: Up! Up!

But his cries were stifled by the howling wind and the other two aggies remained oblivious of the threat growing behind them.

Jacob: Oh, my god! It's me!

Aggie: Thunderthighs! It’s you!
Jacob: So are we going to toy with me or try chasing?
Aggie: Toy with you.

And toy they did, trying a variety of attacks until they managed to get one slightly up the road and the other blocking. But then, in an exciting and dangerous moment, the aggie up the road dropped his chain.

Jacob: That was uneventful.
Aggie: I’m really disappointed how this ended up.
Jacob: You all probably could’ve taken me in a sprint.
Aggie: Aha! So your weakness is revealed.
Jacob: Crap. I mean…I suck at climbing.

Suck in a sprint he did. But, having clawing his way past shelled riders, Jacob moved from dropped on the first lap to 8th. Somehow. His tenacity unquestioned, his relentlessness unparalleled, his leg-shaving skills entirely subpar, Jacob set his sights on the team time trial…


The End of an Age

Still searching for a stage win, Jacob rides with Will Frischkorn in search of glory on a warm afternoon in Wichita Falls.

Jacob: Dude, those guys have legs of steel.
Will: I wish I had a bronze tan like that.
Jacob: Those wheels look pretty heavy though.
Will: That’s all I got.
Jacob: Same here.
Statue1: I have brass balls.
Jacob: Hadn’t thought of that.
Statue2: If I’m a bit squirrely, it’s because my crit skills are rusty
Will: Damn, they showed us.

Jacob: Will, what’s it like having a cool last name?
Will: It’s pretty neat really. Fresh Korn is a pretty easy name for my blog.
Jacob: Do you like my idea of starting a blog called Dod’s Son?
Will: Uh…
Jacob: Cause I think it’s got some potential.
Will: I think you can do better.
Jacob: Dachshund?
Will: Get back to me on that one.

Will: We’re having a hard time holding this pace.
Jacob: No need to tell me, I-
Will: Jacob! Your mustache!

Jacob: What?
Will: It, it’s still growing!
Jacob: Curses! It must be stealing my lactic acid to grow at such a rate!

Will: It must be stopped if we have any hope of staying in this race.
Jacob: I’ll get a feed.
Jacob: Razor! Razor!

Will: Hurry Jacob! We’re falling off the back!

Jacob: Almost there...

Jacob: Vill! Vhat do you think of mein mustache now?
Will: I don’t think that that’s a popular fashion.
Jacob: And...Done!

But it was too little too late. Despite the surge in strength, Jacob couldn’t chase down the pack in time.

Time Trial of...ease

Jacob: La-dee-dee-dum-dee-dee-dee-dee-dum-dum-lala-lala….
Danny Pate: Yeah, nothing like not trying in a time trial.
Jacob: It must be rough being a domestique who can TT, because then you have to work on other people’s off-days.
Danny: Yeah, but there’s something about the TT, the individual effort that-
Jacob: Oh crap, a camera, better look like I’m working.

Danny: Oh yeah, sell it…

And sell it he did, so much so that the officials thought he beat the rest of the Bs by 45 seconds. He got it fixed up though and put himself into last place.


The Flying Moustache

It had been a few weeks off for our intrepid hero, and during that time he had grown a moustache, befriended the entirety of the Garmin-Slipstream team, and also convinced them to get a masters in Sports Science, so they can stop paying for doping testing and just do it themselves. This curious bunch expressed their thanks in an endless supply of Chipotle burritos, and Jacob had had nothing else to eat for the past two weeks. He felt like this would be his key to victory. And also having Dave Zabriskie and Steven Cozza working for him couldn’t hurt.

Jacob: So Dave, what’s our plan for today?
Dave: Jacob, having a moustache means having no plan.
Steven: It does the work for you. It’s like a robot butler that creates cycling strategy for you.
Dave: Like a DS and domestique riding above your lip.
Steven: It is the essence of excellence.
Jacob: Wow…
Dave: The essence of comfort is in DZ Nuts. We’re not just chamois cream, we’ve got a whole line of accessories.

Jacob: Wait, how did you just place a hyperlink into our conversation?
Dave: It’s the power of the moustache.
Steven: You’d be balls crazy not to ride with DZ Nuts protecting your junk.
Dave: Well put Steven, well put.
Jacob: Whoa, what’s going on here?

Steven: Looks like two large moose-
Dave: Meese?
Jacob: Mooses?

Steven: Moosi’i? Uh…One moose is bucking horns with another.
Jacob: Well if they wanted a pissing contest, they could’ve pulled off to the side of the road.
Dave: Perhaps they’re trying to impress the ladies?
Steven: Interestingly, most of them are gone.
Jacob: Ironic.
Dave: Perhaps their crotches are enflamed?
Jacob: I’d prefer not to consider that option.
Dave: Jacob, alls I see are opportunities…
Jacob: Perhaps you can give me a free sample so I can endorse it to my friends?

Dave: No can do.
Steven: Would you like a free burrito though?
Jacob: No thanks, it’s the last lap, I can’t be fumbling with a burrito.
Dave: We better set ourselves up nicely for the sprint.
Jacob: I’m nominally a crappy climber, but I’ll do what I can.
Steven: We can help, right Dave?
Dave: Right Steven. Moustaches, flying V!!

Dave: I’ll use my sexy TT legs to get you to the finish Jacob!
Steven: I’ll hold down the right side so that you don’t get boxed out!
Dave & Steven: Flying V! Huzzah!
Dave: Go Jacob! Unleash those thunderthighs of yours!
Jacob: Raaah!

Jacob: 4th!

Dave: Oh yeah…just like big Z planned…


Oye, Maria

Day 3 of Hammerfest. The Queen Stage.

It was a long day of climbing, with Jacob riding much of the way with the twin of Tyler Hamilton, who was very shy and requested not to have photos of him posted.

He finished 17th, and was greeted at the line by his old flame, Maria Sharapova.

Maria: Jacob, I have returned for you.
Jacob: Maria, we’ve had this discussion before.
Maria: Jacob, I believe we can make things work.
Jacob: I’m sorry Maria, my love lies elsewhere.
Maria: I can change Jacob!
Jacob: Not like this you can’t. You would need to be the pavement in the spring and the dirt and mud in the fall.

Maria: Is the pavement an international tennis star? Does it have enough money where we can retire at the age of 22? Can it cook? Does it have an impressive collection of plates?
Jacob: Huh, how many?

Maria: Three!
Jacob: Well, no. But it does have one thing you don’t, my love.
Maria: Oh, Jacob, come down from your impressively long trackstand and come with me…
Jacob: I’m sorry, Maria, it just wasn’t meant to be.

Jacob ended his impressively long track stand and rode away, past the stormtroopers and through the fields of chocolate, until, he awoke in a cold sweat…

Jacob: Was, was this whole weekend just a bad dream?


That Curious Steed

Armed with a borrowed time-trial bike, zipp wheels, and some suave shoe covers, Jacob set out to crush the time-trial.

Jacob began riding like a man possessed. Not because of his single-mindedness and relentless drive, but because the 23mph crosswinds were whipping the snot out of his nose and the spittle from his mouth. Soon though, he turned into the wind and got a nice rhythm going, spinning a small gear…

Jacob: Alright, good work Jacob, you’re passing guys. Then again, they’re only ones whom you’ve already beaten on an admittedly bad day. Keep passing. Smile! The dimples reduce wind drag. Bah! I should have shaved, this beard is costing me 20 seconds. It’s worth it though! It goes well with the flannel. I wish I was a better time trialist.

Jacob: The Chicken!?
Rasmussen: The very same Jacob. I can make you a better time-trialist.

Jacob: No Michael! Not like that!
Rasmussen: It’s what you need Jacob, nothing else can help you.
Jacob: No, I am strong. I am aero, I can ride rock this TT.
Rasmussen: No you can’t. Have you seen your thighs? They are so small.
Jacob: Compact! Efficient! Speak for yourself!
Rasmussen: Weak, you cannot do well here. I became a good enough time trialist, despite my meager frame, you can too.

Jacob: Lies!
Rasmussen: Such a little gear for such little thighs!
Jacob: No! I will not listen to you!
Rasmussen: Join me! And together we can rule the ProTour, as-
Jacob: No! That’s impossible!
Rasmussen: Yes, feel the anger, let it course through you, soon you will –

Rasmussen had been blown off Jacob’s shoulder. Finally, Jacob had reached the turn around point, and with the wind at his back he flew down the course. The words of Rasmussen may have cut him deep, but despite turning in what he thought was the time trial of his life, the results cut him deeper. Only mid-field. Rasmussen was right.

Would Jacob dope himself to the gills for the final stage? Will he Roman Feillu his was to GC contention? Will he have more freaky visions inspired by the seven hour drive to Ft. Davis? Tune in sometime in the near future to find out!


Rocked on Locke

Ft. Davis. Hammerfest. Stage race. Thousands of feet of climbing. Just the thing for our intrepid hero, or so he thought…

The stage was a 16 mile road race to the top of Mt. Locke, a forbidding peak suitable for little life other than nasaly astronomers. Yet Jacob would ascend it, and so, he hoped, would he ascend the GC.

Jacob: Hah! Alright, I can do this. I’m a good climber. I’m a thin guy, I’ve got the power, I’ve got the relatively low-weight, I’ve got the cajones, time to become the GC leader I was meant to be!


Jacob: Alberto Contador? Levi Leipheimer!
Alberto: Si. Jacob, we are here to help you be a GC leader
Levi: You summoned us when you wished you were a GC leader.
Jacob: Well, I didn’t really wish-
Levi: We can leave
Jacob: No, stay. It’s comforting having you here.
Alberto: Jacob, you need to do well in the climb today, it is the only way you can be all that you were meant to become.
Jacob: Sure thing, Alberto. I’m staying towards the front, keeping an eye on everyone, and playing things conservatively.
Levi: Good work. Here comes the first climb.

Alberto: You are just behind the lead group, catch up to them.
Jacob: I, I can’t.
Levi: What’s wrong?
Jacob: It’s, it’s my heart rate, I can’t sustain my usual intensity!

Alberto: That is really a shame.
Levi: We have to go now, we’re needed elsewhere.
Jacob: Conti, Levi-Nooo!

Jacob: I wish I was a GC leader!

Alberto: Stop that.
Jacob: I need help!
Levi: Oh, fine, we’ll send someone else.

Jacob: Roman Feillu?
Roman: Oui, it is I, Roman.
Jacob: Why are you here?
Roman: Because I can only do well on the GC with crazy breakaways, which is what you’ll need.
Jacob: Gee, thanks
Roman: Don’t thank me sarcastically, thank you’re weak little legs, lungs and heart, for not being able to sustain you up this climb.
Jacob: Are you always so caustic?
Roman: I am French, non?

And so their useless bantering continued, until eventually Jacob finished, well down on the GC.