If I had a brain today, which I don't, but if I did, I'd write some kind of riff about the night before Paris-Roubaix and all the cobbles so sound asleep in their beds. But I don't have a brain, which is maybe a good thing after all.
This weekend is the grand finale of the cobbles season. Time, it flies by so fast sometimes. Me, I love Paris-Roubaix for its cobbles and for its crapshoot crazy possibilities. Who ever imagined that Johann van Summeren would win last year? I certainly didn't, not until that chase group fell disorganized into stare downs.
And always it seems by the time the winner crosses the line in the Roubaix velodrome, he is as happy for winning as he is for surviving this ancient throw-back dinosaur of a race. Granite in the mud, granite in the legs, it's a day for the hard men.
Happy Paris-Roubaix weekend! Also, if there's something else on your mind? We're saving you a seat at the bar, come on in, and chat it up!