If you visit my street on a Saturday morning in May, you’re likely to find a four-year-old boy chasing a seven-year-old boy on their bikes screaming obscure references only a cycling fan would know.
“It’s a breakaway, Nibali wins!”
“No I’m Nibali, your Froome.”
“No, I don’t want to be Froome.”
“Fine, you can be Nibali, I’m Quintana.”
“Wait, can I be Quintana?”
I had the same conversation with my brother when I was a kid except it was Gretzky and Lemieux, and not European bike racers. That’s not to say we’re a bike racing family. We’re not (at least not yet). But we love riding for recreation, and we love following the sport’s big races via…