Inside the Postal Bus

Understandably, literacy doesn’t run all too deep across the likes of native Staten Islanders, and I can say that as I spent 32 years living in Staten Italy. At the same time, I do realize there are exceptions to every rule, meaning that while it usually requires (a) several roofies along with (b) a hell of a lot of persuading to get Mr. Picco to throw a leg over one of his many bicycles, one never has to beat him over the head with a book to get him to do some reading. If you ever wonder why you’re Verizon bill is so high, ask Picco how much reading he gets done while on the job. Yet while I can’t speak for the few others who peruse this page (check me out using these big words like literacy and peruse--I must be feeling edge-u-mah-kated this morning), I would certainly make the recommendation to give Michael Barry’s Inside the Postal Bus: My Ride with Lance Armstrong and the U.S. Postal Cycling Team a shot in the event you find yourself with some free time and want to do some cycling-related reading.

(And no, Picco, you can’t borrow the book until you return all those adult DVDs I lent you a few months back.)

Now that I’ve made the recommendation, I guess I’m going to have to support it with some facts, aren’t I? Well, I’ll give it a shot, so here we go.

For starters, the author, Michael Barry, was a rider with the Postal squad for several years and is still riding with the Discovery team. The dude grew up in Canada, the son of a former British bicycle racer, which explains a lot. Grew up riding and racing, joined the Postal squad, blah, blah, blah. What sets this book apart from the others--Lance Armstrong’s War, 21 Day in July, Chasing Lance, etc.--is that the reader expects a much more in-depth look at the inner workings of a cycling team and, based on the book’s subtitle, a fresh look at what it’s like to work as one of Lance Armstrong’s teammate.

Overall, the book does provide most of those things listed above with the exception of Lance. As Michael Barry was not chosen as part of Postal’s Tour de France team in 2005 (the book was published in 2005) and considering Lance doesn’t do all too much racing with the exception of the Tour, Barry had little to offer by way of Lance insights. Granted, that makes the subtitle seem a bit misleading, although put yourself in the publishers shoes. Don’t you think you could produce better sales with Lance’s name in the title of the book? If I had been the boys at VeloPress, I probably would have done the same damn thing.

Still, the book mostly lives up the its Inside the Postal Bus main title. Barry does a good job elaborating and explaining his teammates: their personalities, their habits, their quirks, their diets, their senses of humor, etc. For instance: “Triki Beltran . . . grew up the son of an olive farmer close to the town of Jaen in Andalusia. In his passport his name reads Manuel Beltran, but he earned the nickname “Triki” because of his weakness for cookies. El Triki is the Spanish version of “Cookie Monster” on Sesame Street . . .

“Triki brings his father’s olive oil to each race for us to use with our pasta [and] rice at meals. Whenever a new rider comes to the team or a guest sits at the table, Triki starts in, seizing any opportunity to promote his product. He focuses so intensely on teaching us about olives that he doesn’t notice George Hincapie mocking him with imitations of Forrest Gump’s friend Bubba talking about shrimp . . .

“Triki struggles with English more than anyone on the team. In the south of Spain, the Andalusians speak with a distinctive accent, typically dropping the “s” in words. When they cheer for Lance, they say, “Armtrong!” At the 2004 Pays Basque, a tough stage race in the Basque region of Spain, we faced snow at the start. Triki pointed outside and said, “Look, no.” Upset with all the laughter when he spoke English, he then said, “Triki no peak Engli, Triki only peak pani.”

When describing teammates as well as team-related process and protocol, Barry does a fantastic job in his writings. One by one, you get to know the layout of the team and each rider’s personality, including Triki, Chechu Rubiera, Dave Zabriskie, Ekimov (I’m not touching his first name), and others. There are also short essay inserts by Christian Vande Velde and George Hincapie, which keep the reading fresh by providing alternate points of view. Barry starts the book by walking the reader through the first days after he joined the team for training and how those hours came along and then soon launches into the 2004 season.

Regarding Chechu: “In 2002 when we were racing in Spain, Dave Zabriskie asked Chechu why one of the riders in the peloton had red and yellow clothing, bike, and helmet. Chechu, who is normally quiet, considerate, and soft-spoken, was offended and said, “That is the Spanish flag, bitch, and he is the national champion.”

Nice, right? I think it’s the bitch that really pulls it together for me.

Yet with all the good, you have to take some of the bad too. Interestingly, Barry will begin a certain chapter or paragraph describing a race or stage for which he and the team is preparing, yet he often fails to take us through to the end of the race. It’s somewhat frustrating to find yourself drawn into stage eight of the Vuelta a Espana with Barry describing in detail the opening miles and the oppressive heat, yet he leaves off and jumps to a new stage (or even a new topic) without so much as providing an inclination as to how the day ended or who crossed the finish line first. In other words, don’t lead me halfway through the final period and then switch channels to underwater basket weaving two minutes before the final buzzer. That, my friends, is just wrong, yet unfortunately, Barry works in that manner all too much.

At the end of the day, the book should be titled: Inside the Life of a Professional Cyclist Who Drinks A Lot of Coffee. Throughout the book, I don’t think five pages pass without at least one reference to how much coffee Barry and his teammates drink on a daily basis. As someone who isn’t a coffee-drinker, the constant references become slightly annoying after a while. Further, while the book does provide a glimpse of the Postal team, Barry doesn’t have all too much to say regarding Johan Bruyneel and Lance Armstrong, the two guys who seem to be the brains behind the entire operation.

Regardless, it’s not a bad read. I found my copy used on Amazon.com for $8.60 or so. With shipping, I believe it came out to $11 or $12, which is considerably cheaper than the $21.95 listed on the back cover for a new copy.

And again, Picco, don’t even think about asking to borrow the book until you return my copies of Saving Ryan’s Privates and Weapons of Ass Destruction #17.