When it comes to hardmen, there aren’t many tougher than this guy. That he manages to mix massive amounts of V with similarly massive amounts of Casual Deliberation only serves to heighten the man-crushes of a bunch of older, fatter, balder men who see a visage of Spatacus looking back at us in the mirror every time we don lycra. We wish we could be him.
So I put myself into the mind of Fabs after his huge crash/broken back/ride anyway/forced to retire sequence the other day. The guy has had a lot of bad luck over the last few years, and as he gets to the twilight of his career, decisions need to be made. What Will Spartacus Do? Well, I don’t know, but I do know what Spartacus should do.
The only way for Faboo to go out is thus:
- Take a break in the sun, drink rum, heal the injury and ride a scooter without a helmet. Try not to fall off.
- Work off the fat from all the Mojitos and get training again.
- Target the World Champs road race and win the bloody thing.
- Look completely awesome in the rainbow bands (with black shorts) and win Lombardia.
- Have a rest over winter, then train for one last Classics campaign.
- Win Het Volk, E3, the Ronde and Roubaix while looking awesome in the bands.
- Retire on the velodrome with a cobble in hand.
- Un-retire. Break the Hour Record.
- Replace fucking Jens on whatever commentary team I had to put up with listening to his shit the other night.
Shouldn’t be too big an ask.