The last time I’d been in the same zip code as that man was years ago, watching him vying for the U.S. National Cycling Championship in Philly, although I didn’t get to share a latte with him.
This guy must have some kind of respect for my brother, because yesterday that guy–George Hincapie–was introduced to the world, along with the rest of his team, at my brother’s high school.
To be fair, three of my other siblings went to that school too. By the time I was old enough to go, the school district had seen me coming and decided to close the place down to protect its good name.
Speaking of good names, anyone else enjoying the double entendre of the name of a team that has declared its opposition to drugs in sport…Team High Road?
And speaking of irony, I will note that the school district, by closing Cubberley, did force me to ride my bike twice as far across town to a high school at the base of the foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains, which I had already started exploring on my bike, and which I would later ride all over throughout my high school years. Not that I’m thanking them for closing my local high school. In fact, I’m wondering if I can submit receipts for all the silly spandex I’ve acquired over the years to support my cycling habit.
Or, maybe they could just arrange for a latte with George for me too.