The Tour de France finished this morning, and it was a bit of a relief. All the exciting Alps and Pyrenees stages finished a week ago, and so it was sort of depressing to think that nothing short of a major crash would alter the inevitable Team Discovery victory. Not that I dislike Lance or anything, but the robotic and relentless manner in which they ground their opponents into a pulp was a bit deflating at times. I think it was around this period that I started to consider the more whimsical elements of the Tour. One night it was “Pick your favourite team jersey and see how much it costs on Ebay”. After a good look, I decided it was between the two-tone blue of Gerolsteiner (a mineral water company) and the Blue/Green of LiquiGas. Still haven’t made up my mind on that.
Which jersey? Some more categories: 
Worst Jersey: Would have to be the spew green and yellow of Phonac. Most Interesting rider name: A toss up between Levi Leipheimer and Vladimir Karpets Biggest Letdown: Michael Rogers barely making an impact. Best Nickname: Jan Ulrich – said reverentially “The Kaiser”
Sillyest Rider Oufit: Andreas Kloden with his ridiculous white sunglasses and oversized pirate earring. Only swarthy folk should wear those – not pureblood Germans.
Most psychotic rider: Alexandre Vinoukourov – never say die. Get dropped. Catch up. Surge ahead on a breakaway. Get caught. Get dropped. Repeat. Most soured, feel good moment: George Hincapie. 9 tours. Never won a stage. Gets into a breakway. Does zero work. Sits behind Oscar Pereiro and makes him do all the work. Wins the sprint, and the hatred of every Spanish fan.
Most satisfying moment: After dozens of close calls by half nude exhibitionist fans running alongside and in front of the riders, finally one got run over by a motorbike. He was unhurt.