The Giro d’Italia 2012 – Stage 2 and Cav is King. If these were Medieval times I’d have to throw myself on his mercy. Prostrate myself at the foot of the steps to the Sky bus, next Monday in Frosinone. Trust that in the joy of his re-confirmation as King of Denmark he’d be merciful.
How could I doubt him? The Primavera? Gent-Wevelgem? Mere abberations. QuickStep, desperate Italians, gravity, devious Belgians – purge all that from your memory.
Give him a flat parcours, wind from the North Sea? – that doesn’t matter; breakaways? – that’s what Big Stannard and the boys are for; tight packed peloton on tricky roads? – a mere bagatelle.
Last kilometre madness? Step forward King Mark of Cav. Cav is King!
He ducked the last bend crashes and as tireless Thomas finally ran out of gas, the king calmly skeked over his left shoulder to see where the next human wave of swerving madness was coming from.
Left turn, hop aboard, kick – and everyone, and I do mean everyone, looks pedestrian.
I can’t accept any criticism; he’s the king, cool as a cucumber, brutally powerful, supremely confident – how can you slag him ?
How could I doubt him ?
Tyler Farrar, Matt Goss, Thor Hushovd made to look like third cats – there’s nothing else to say.
And as for the up and coming young Italians…
Vik, I know he was overweight and doesn’t have Super Mario’s patter.
And as for that nonsense about him losing his nerve now that the bairn is here…
Dave, I know that’s all he can do – and will ever do.
Ivan, I know there are definite Chav tendencies and the media is obsessed with him.
But join me, bow your heads and accept it.
When it’s a flat parcours with a demented finalé; “Cav is King!”
Amen.
