Never mind that the Le Tour was a little while ago, ignore the fact we are already onto the Vuelta, the two are far too close together anyway. We put the call out for hot takes, thoughts, highlights and lowlights from this years Tour de France, arguably one of the most polarising in recent years. So here they are, all without attribution. No second guessing for which ones came through with multiple submissions.

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The Puppet Master

For the entirety of 2018 Chris Froome has had the cycling world on strings. Everyone from the big wigs at the UCI, to your dad ranting at his newspaper at the breakfast table, the (cue notable fact) Kenyon born Brit has been up to his puppeteering best this year. Initially we were going to analyse the whole situation, and chat to our guy who knows a thing or two about full natty performance enhancement, but Harry was a little busy over the month of July, and our team of investigative journalists in the Soup Boys Press Clüb office couldn’t make sense of the professional cycling circuit one bit. What are we supposed to tell our colleagues who bless their souls ask us “How is Le Tour going? Is Lance winning?” Every July.

“Nah…but kind of yeah?”



They were dogshit back when they got released, and if it wasn’t for archival imagery of Jonesy testing sartorial waters with a pair back in 2015, and of course Geraint Thomas rocking them in this the lord’s year 2018 well they would be well within the dark depths of cycling folklore (read: sartorial shame). For whatever reason man like G has lived through an era where police officers are being asked “what are those?” where deep fried memes exist, where Shaq is realising real shit and come out of it the other end STILL wearing jawbreakers. The state he is in he could still be taking cues from Gareth Bale.

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Both sides of the safety coin

The stage up Alpe d’Huez is always the epicentre of #scenes whenever it is included in the Grand Boucle, 2018 no exception. The only difference this time around was that Dutch corner was fenced off, much to the dismay of the tifosi. Events up on the hill drew ire from many on socials and on couches, and rightly so – the day claimed Vincenzo Nibali, forced to withdraw with a broken back after a coming together with a spectators camera strap as he emerged from the fog of multiple orange flares. Much of the critical response of fan behaviour and the use of flares was well justified, but on the other hand, any shouts of banning flares in the name of rider safety shouldn’t be accompanied by messages of praise for riders continuing on with concussions, broken legs and broken backs. Do we want another Tom Skujins situation? Have you not noticed there is currently enough suffering and insufferable behaviour in the mens pro peloton?




It’s nearly impossible to predict, and could be billed as the fight of the decade. If Gianni Moscon wants to keep himself busy and on his toes, while also exacting some revenge for his superior, perhaps he could jump into the ring with French Hulk Hogan.

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Le Hulk Hogan

With a complexion akin to a Hermes leather bag, French Hulk Hogan so perfectly groomed and wildly tanned, decked out in his crisp, immaculate Gendarme uniform was having something of a meltdown. The month long party in the middle of the French summer was being interrupted by a storm brewing in the Alps. It just so happened that a Young Froomey, currently free of all puppeteering responsibilities for the rest of the month was the first to cross his path. A chokehold from a man 20cm taller and twice his weight would spell an end to Froomey’s race hopes.

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Gianni Box-on

With no Andriy Hrivko around to start mid stage games of fisticuffs, it would be up to Team Sky’s resident DC to take matters into his own hands. Unaware that the victor would be challenging French Hulk Hogan in a surprise cage fight later on in Le Tour, Moscon – not one for rash, violent and racist behaviour at all lashed out at Élie Gisbert during Stage 15, with his fists. While riding his bike. Sure they’re paid professional cyclists, but to manage throwing a few punches while staying upright at 30 odd kilometres an hour is relatively impressive. Now fuck off Gianni.

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He’s turned into the 3rd-season-Mourinho of the cycling world, and he’s damn lucky we don’t have a cartoonist on the level of David Squires to depict him as the moody emo teenage brat of a son he’s turned into. Much like his protege in Froome, Dave Brailsford had the media circus on strings all tour long but for the most part it was for all the wrong reasons. His boat is sinking, he’s got a fresh box of flares and a single flare gun and he’s ready to fire them all straight at anybody who dares point out the boat is taking on water. He’d stay quiet for a day or two, then pop out of the k-hole he’d near disappeared into to bring out some nuclear hot takes that would even make us proud. Lucky he’s not pissing the German’s off otherwise it would be full steins being thrown his riders way as opposed to red cups of the yellow stuff.

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R.i.p-chie Porte

He’s the glowing Ochre cat. The feline King of Willunga, decked out in all his splendour. Be that as it may, Richie Porte won’t be winning a Grand Tour. We’ll let things die down, and lets SBS have their fun come the same time next year, we all need that heart warming story in the middle of the cold, dark winter nights watching bike riding, but it’s time to face it – he’s lucky as shit that he’s a cat. Even then, there’s only one life left in him and he’s spending it with Trek pfffft.

Next big thing? Unfortunately not.

adrian z