My Cat Rasmussen

First, a happy tale:

On what happened to be my birthday, three ladies from the maintenance committee at my co-op apartment building knocked on the door and offered me a cat. The cat had been abandoned by some evictees, who left the cat but stole their front door. I surveyed the animal and decided to take it. Eventually I named him for the Yellow Jersey of the day, Michael Rasmussen of Denmark.

Admission of bias: I like Rasmussen. I like his style of racing - a strategic, pure climber with two mountains points jerseys to his credit already and here he was about to triumph in the crucial overall category. In fact, he'd just won the final stage in the Pyrenees by over twenty seconds from his nearest competitor, giving him a possibly unassailable three minute lead going into the closing days of the race. It was his hour of triumph and it did not last. In fact, you could hear booing from the crowd as he rolled over the line giving the victory salute. Rumours had been swirling around Rasmussen for days about missed doping tests before the Tour, and about really being home in Italy training when his whereabouts forms (yes, out-of-competition testing demands ProTour racers state their future locations at all times) said he would be in Mexico visiting his wife's family. He was caught in a lie by an Italian ex-racer and broadcaster, who called Danish TV and busted him (proof?) during the Pyrenees stages.

So on the eve of triumph, Rasmussen was called into the team bus and fired. The race organizers reserve the right to bar anyone from entering the race even if suspected of that great evil, performance-doping. Once the race is on, any rider can be chucked if caught out with the wrong blood oxygen values, etc. But in Rasmussen's case, he was caught in a kind of lie, and in came the behind-the-scenes pressure either from the sponsor, Rabobank, or the Tour organizers or both. Only Denis Menchov had the balls to quit in solidarity, no other rider had the nerve to protest for a moment.

If the top five overall riders behind Rasmussen had refused to ride, the whole putsch would have failed miserably, becoming a P.R. fiasco of epic proportions. But of course no one could see past their own nose and team manager as per usual, Menchov excepted.

Now you could argue that it was all true, that Rasmussen was caught lieing to avoid being tested and that could have only meant he was doping, and that his team firing him represents a great leap forward for 'drug-free sport'. Except for the fact that the team had begun by defending Rasmussen and then flipped; and further, that he had just been 'kicked off' a national team (for missing their doping tests) that he had not even been a member of (as national selections for the Worlds are normally made after August).

No, it was all done in the hallowed name of the Tour of France and in the wake of the Floyd Landis fiasco that has yet to be resolved. And in the wake of the Bjarne Riis (hmm, another Dane and '96 Tour winner) confession, the Vinokourov testosterone busting only days before, and others too numerous to name. Rasmussen was made an example of to protect the already tarnished brandname and symbol (Maillot Jaune) of the most prestigious bike race in the world.

It all makes me sick.

Rasmussen was having the Tour of his life, fighting off young Contador's relentless attacks in the mountain stages and making for the most exciting racing I've witnessed in years, and his team was controlling the race perfectly with Menchov, Dekker, Boogerd, and even Fleche all killing themselves everyday for the man called Chicken. I couldn't even watch the day I heard the news, and I'm NOT sorry I missed the final time trial because I was up at the farm. What a pack of lies.

Rasmussen my cat is a good climber and loyal.