What is it about underdogs in sport?

Two great sporting underdog stories playing out this weekend.

In American League baseball, the Detroit Tigers play two games this weekend against the Minnesota Twins. They’re one shy of what they call, on their own web site (actually the official MLB Tigers web site) dubious history – the record for most losses in a season in modern major league history. Despite my natural affection for odd and superlative statistics, I’m rooting for ’em to win both and stay out of that particular section of the record book. They are my underdogs.

Meanwhile in the Vuelta a Espana, the quintessential underdog Isidro Nozal is on the brink of stealing away the great Spanish bike race from its rightful owner, Roberto Heras. I’ve been a Heras fan for years. He’s the little climber, and we love to love the little climbers, somehow underdogs as they cower in the pack among the big sprint boys on the flats, only to slip to the front and fly up the mountains when the pitch gets steep. Nozal is a boy, really, one of the youngsters of the peleton, a domestique who somehow found the jersey on his shoulders and rode like it belonged there, gritting up the mountains behind Heras’ dancing asssaults ever time things got steep and somehow holding on.

Mom’s rooting for Nozal, totally. I’m still hoping Heras can pull out magic today on the last steep climb they face, but a little part of me is cheering Nozal too. He’s our underdog.

Time to go ride the bike.

Picked up the new bike Friday afternoon.

That sort of sly smile on my face in the picture below is genuine:

I’ve been riding for years on my old green Columbus and I love that bike. It was the first quick and responsive bike I ever owned, it got me up Sandia Crest and through my first time trials. I could add the numbers up from my logs, but my best guess is that I’ve put 12,000 miles on it in the last four years. But it’s a heavy old bike, and I increasingly crave speed.

The new bike has it. I could tell today when I was ripping up one of my usual routes into the foothills. It climbs light and quick. The frame is stiff aluminum, and when I push the pedals the bike jumps – no much, no hesitation. I didn’t really understand that hesitation I was getting on the steel frame, that flex, until I tried something stiffer.

But the real feel was coming back down Tijeras Canyon late this morning. I was near the end of a three-hour ride, and I’d told LIssa I’d be home by noon. Hate to be late. The canyon is generally downhill, but with a lot of rollers, and I was bucking a headwind. But the new wheels, they felt like they were slicing through the wind, like it wasn’t there, and I was flying, faster than I’ve ever done that ride. At one point, on a downhill section, I was coming up on a guy who was pedaling to fight the wind. I just tucked and coasted and passed him.

Jaime seems almost as excited as I am about the new bike – he helped me shop smart for it, helped me think through the decisions. He’s been named the bicycle’s godfather. So it was fitting that we ended up, completely by accident, riding together Saturday morning on its maiden voyage. I was humping it down the bike trail along the river when I heard a voice behind me say, “Hey, nice bike.” Up beside me rode Jaime, in the midst of a long ride, so he tooled along with me as we made the climb through downtown and up to my house.

For the gear heads:

Airborne Thunderbolt frame
Shimano Ultegra gear, with a double chain ring in the front and a 12-27 in the back for going up the mountains
Speedplay X-3 pedals that my knees might live long and happy lives
Mavic Ksyrium Elite wheels, because you shouldn’t skimp on wheels