The Psycho Cyclist
The Perfect Cycling Specimen!
In pursuit of the perfect designer cyclist - what better way than incorporating a few unique characteristics from members of the Kapiti Club. If this motley amalgam of riders never win a race, they'll sure as hell scare the shit out of the opposition while trying.
Once refined; this is the ultimate pedalling proposition.
Firstly our cyclist needs the organisational skills of a Bob Pratt. Managing your cycling routines (i.e. yelling at Fin to RIDE FASTER AND LONGER), washing your cycling pants and giving your legs a nice massage are critical to a cyclist's armoury. Even if Bob reminds us of an officious school teacher high on methamphetamine, he gets things done with such zest that we excuse his bad jokes and even worse one liners.
The second secrete ingredient in our cog of cycling precision is youth and unfettered speed (apparently it helps in racers), and young Finlay Brazier, with Bob screaming in his ear, is one of our answers. When he attacks hills he's like a startled grasshopper being chased by a ravenous tarantula. Like a grasshopper, he's all legs and little body with his knees bouncing off his nostrils with each dynamic pedal stroke.
Of course top cyclists need perspective and the ability to chill out occasionally and relax. Miles Davies is so laid back he forgets to wash the soap out off his hair. This is obviously a cool fashionable look lost on me, but his cycling is the definition of effortless effort, almost reggae-like.
Relaxed perspective and Doug Barrett just don't go together. Dougy epitomes effort, squeezing every last ounce out of every pedal stroke. Apparently Dougy did raise a smile on his bike back in 1983 and has regretted it ever since. Cycling is no laughing matter. And we can all take a leaf out of Dougy's book: try, try and try again, and if that doesn't work, blame the bloody bike (and have ten back ups in the garage).
Organisation, speed, perspective and doggedness are all very fine, but what about strength? Adrian McKenzie is strong; so strong that we shed tears for his cranks due to the stress he puts them under. He's the cycling equivalent of Arny Schwarzenegger, pushing monster gears and proving the wind barrier equivalent of a grizzly bear. If he was an Indian, I'm sure his name would be "Wind Shadow". Or if he was a medieval King - "Adrian Long Cranks" His frames are engineering wonders coping with such weight - oops ... I mean power. As long as he doesn't take up smoking cigars and governing California, Kapiti has his services.
Hard-nosed and no-nonsense is Greg Cundy (and that's on a convivial day). Never has a human been so transformed as Greg when confronted with an open motorway, a gaggle of desperate riders behind him and a 38.978 km per hour max to maintain. If anyone wanted someone to ride the Afgan terrorists into submission, Greg is your man. Greg also displays a very rare quality in the cycling world - in that he'll give you a straight answer to a straight question about what or how do things on the bike. Following his advice is harder than receiving it however - the truth hurts.
Finally the cycling world needs the rugged, earthy drive and homeliness of a Dave Downer. His only impediment to cycling fame and fortune is a damn stupid little bike pump which couldn't even pump up my ... um .... thingy (yes- it's that small). But Dave's like the dad of that 80's TV show ‘Little House on the Prairie', (for those who don't know, this was quality family TV, unlike the wall-to-wall crime drama crap we get served up today; plus you'd never get Dave to appear in a naff murder cop show). While Dave has a deep competitive drive, he harnesses it for the greater good, like Daniel Boon chopping wood for the whanua.
So there we have it, a Kapiti cycling creature from hell: one overly organised, chilled out grasshopper, with a nuggety down-to-earth drive and single minded strength to put those poncey PNP riders and their flash harry bikes in their place!