I watched the Tour de France today on TV. Now there is an exciting spectator sport if I ever saw one. Like cross country skiing! And what does one call a large group of cyclists anyway? A turd? I mean a group of whales is called a pod, seagulls a flock. So what do we call a group of cyclists? Probably a herd. Okay, watching this herd of cyclists covering about 200 km was as exciting as watching paint dry.
”Paint dry? What is dat? “ My Dutch colleague asked.
“Well, you know, like watching grass grow.” I answered as diplomatically as possible.
”I don,t undertstand dis, paint dry or grass grow.” He looked at me with ascanze – a dumb sort of look on his face.
“Okay I,ll be as diplomatic as I can be.” I replied.
“Sucre blue” he exclaimed in his best Dutch.
“ You mean Sacre Bleu?” I corrected him.
”Dats vat I say, Sucre blew.”
So after 2 hours of watching a turd, I mean herd, of cyclists ride by the announcer comes on to inform us all – with bated breath – that there are only 150 km to go.
“Getting close” I thought to myself – ooooooooo
And what did the man on the street have to say after camping out for over a week on this stretch of a French country road to watch this herd ride by.
”So what do you think?” The French reporter asked.
“Well I have been out here for a week just to see this race!” The spectator exclaimed. And just as he was telling the reporter what he felt the terd, I mean herd, rode by in a flash.
“I missed the herd. I have been here all week.” Damn…..Sacre Blue.”
” You mean Sucre Blewd.” The Dutchman corrected him.
What this really boils down to is that like spectators all over the world they are really hoping and praying that this herd of terds will wipe-out.
Tour de Farce!