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Friday's Foaming Rant: Rockin' out
My my, hey hey
Rock and roll is here to stay
It's better to burn out
Than to fade away
My my, hey hey.
— Neil Young, “My My, Hey Hey”
There’s probably no truth to the rumor that Rock Racing has signed Frank Vandenbroucke, Roger Clemens, Mike Tyson, Britney Spears, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Amy Winehouse, Dr. Evil, Keith Richards, Dick Cheney, Rodan the Flying Monster, the Hound of the Baskervilles, the ghosts of Charles Bukowski, Hunter S. Thompson and Norman Mailer, and all the bad guys from the WWE.
Still, man, I love this f--king Michael Ball guy. It’s refreshing for a change to suspect that management may be on drugs.
The ribald Mr. Ball will provide us with hours of entertainment before he suddenly develops some other enthusiasm a few jillion dollars down the cobbled path of elite-level road racing. Equal parts P.T. Barnum and Tony Montana, the CEO of designer-denim dynamo Rock & Republic resembles your standard-issue team boss the way a Harley does a Huffy: Both are capable of taking you for a ride, but only one of them makes any interesting sounds during the trip. He makes Don Imus sound like Don Knotts.
So he signed Tyler Hamilton. So what? Hamilton did the time, even if he never copped to the crime, so let the man work unless you want to see him shoplifting puppy chow from Boulder 7-Elevens. Ditto Oscar Sevilla, who was only implicated in Operación Puerto, not proven guilty of doping. Likewise Floyd Landis, whose appeal to the International Court of Arbitration for Sport remains active. Well, maybe Landis had best keep his distance during business hours, unless he wants to see some additional time tacked on should that final ruling go against him. Take the money late at night and in cash, is my advice; insist on non-consecutive serial numbers, and small bills, too.
So he signed The Illustrated Men, David Clinger and Kayle Leogrande. Since when is this a crime against cycling? A guy who looks like the Sunday funnies can’t get a job in this sport, but popping a baby’s pacifier in your mouth to celebrate a Tour stage win doesn’t raise any eyebrows? Something sucks here, and it’s not just Carlos Sastre.
So he seems to have problems working and playing well with others, among them fellow designer Victoria “Posh Spice” Beckham, jeans giant Levi Strauss, photog Marcus Klinko, former Rock & Republic consultant Fred Nagar, Scott USA, Look, Steve Hed and Frankie Andreu. Gosh, just think of it: A rich guy with attitude. Never seen one of those before. Somebody should call National Geographic — we clearly have a new species here.
So he doesn’t seem to know exactly what he’s doing, pro-cycling-wise. Okay, this could be something of a problem. But not for you, or me — for anyone who works for or with him (see problems working and playing well with others, above). We get to watch as he tries to slip a screw-top UCI Continental team onto the top shelf in cycling’s private club, where all the dusty bottles dwell. Hilarity will ensue.
I’m not afraid it’s going to end badly. I’m just afraid it’s going to end too soon.
Did the first Foaming Rant of the New Year rock, or was it the same old elevator music? Send your reviews to webletters@insideinc.com. Please include your full name, hometown and state (or nation for those of you rockin' it outside the USA). — Editor
