The death of the cycling cap





As early as the 1950s, journalists the world over proclaimed that jazz was dead. Today, we know that those journalists were largely wrong, but we know that they were wrong due in great part to the fact that jazz stubbornly refused to die. Aside from only a handful of innovative performers performers, jazz (like any good movie-grade zombie) has managed to walk around in an everlasting moribund state. The turning point at which jazz became one of the living dead, by the way, was when Miles Davis grew out his hair, bought a red horn, and decided to wear eyeglasses that could make 1980s cyclists and broadcasting legend Harry Caray cringe. So in reality, jazz never really died, and it most certainly didn't die before the likes of Coltrane, Davis and even Cecil Taylor produced their greatest works.


With all this in mind, it's always a risky proposition to put forth the argument or mere thought of something (other than a person or roadkill) having died. As such, even though I'm only in the first paragraph of this wonderful essay, I will now back off from the title I have given it. Cycling caps are not dead....but I would argue that they are walking around aimlessly, nearly dead, and are a mere shell of their former selves. They are, in my opinion, the embodiment of the cinematographic tour de force that was Weekend At Bernie's. So like Bernie in that movie, cycling caps are not quite dead, but they're somehow hanging on for dear life...and a few of us who still believe in them are like the main characters in the movie. We continue to cart ol' Bernie around and pretend he's alive. While we're on the subject of Weekend At Bernie's, did you know that the movie has spawned the latest dance craze? Well it has, and when I say "dance craze", I mean that at least one person made a video and uploaded it to Youtube. You can see it here if you wish. With this introductory and explanatory paragraph out of the way, let's move on to the festivities.





The rules (of cycling)
This summer, I received an email from a friend who knows nothing about cycling. He was asking me a basic question about the sport. No, he didn't ask me why Cinelli still exists, or why French teams still even try. His question was more specific. He wanted to know my thoughts regarding the Andy Schleck/Contador episode at the Tour, where Schleck lost time to Contador due to a mechanical malfunction/user error/whatever. In response to his email, I merely said that cycling was a sport full of unwritten rules and traditions, and that these rules and traditions absolutely had to be followed...unless it was one of the times that they didn't have to be followed, or simply weren't followed. In response to my brief, but wonderfully poetic insight, my friend commented just how paradoxical it seemed that the sport was so insanely focused on tradition, while still remaining willfully obsessed with cutting-edge technology and its advancements. Professionals want the lightest, stiffest most advanced equipment (or at least that's what their sponsors give them), but fans also expect them to know and respect certain traditions of the sport. Above all of Armstrong's crimes in the eyes of many, his lack of knowledge about cycling's history was certainly up there as a major offense. This fixation on history and tradition transcends merely knowing about events, races and figures in the sport. It goes we goes into team sponsors, race routes, climbs, equipment, rivalries, training methods, clothing materials and manufacturing techniques. It's perhaps for this reason that many obsess over small things. Like cycling caps.




"The Way We Were":
Two cycling caps, one headband, and a Colombian on the Tour's podium.




The way things are:
Three baseball caps and an American on the Tour's podium.
(I tried very hard to think of another Barbara Streisand song title to use in this picture's caption. In doing so, I was relieved to find out that I only know one Barbara Steisand song title.)




In defense of the cycling cap
At an amateur level, many obsess with the history of cycling, and angrily look down upon those who recently bought a Trek Madone. Knowledge of the past (minutiae in particular) is a highly regarded trait in the upper echelon's of cycling fandom. I know that most of you didn't know until my ast sentence that there is such a thing as an "upper echelon of cycling fandom", but since I write this blog, I get all kinds of newsletters and chain emails...so I'm in on that type of information. It's within this and even slightly less obsessive strata of cycling fans that many will focus on a certain rider, they will hyper focus on steel frames, or wool jerseys, or plastic bikes or whatever they prefer.





In the end, we all have our favorite races, teams, and eras. Perhaps the first professional we were fond of, the first team we cheered for, or the time at which we were introduced to the sport. Most of us have our minds set, and little will change the way we see things.


My admission
In the past, I've mocked some cycling fans for the manner in which they fawn over tiny details of the sport. I've mocked those who refuse to live in the here-and-now, and will go on and on about this and that type of vintage equipment and the way things used to work. I have rightfully stated before that some people's obsession with the sport's past and its equipment can border on insane (and clearly mirrors the oddity that is Civil War reenactments and LARPing). But things will change.

Much in the way that Richard Marx conquered all of our hearts by admitting his humanity (and thus his vulnerability) in his sonic masterpiece "Right Here Waiting For You", I too will now reveal myself to you (in a figurative sense, and not in a literal sense...since I still have a pending case for unknowingly "revealing myself" to a family of four during a mid-ride bathroom stop some time ago). My stunning revelation today is this:

I stubbornly and perhaps foolishly miss the use of cycling caps, particularly at the highest levels of the sport.




There you have it. I have bared my soul to you. I have put my cards on the table. I have opened up to you in a manner that would even leave Richard Marx gasping in disbelief, but can you blame me? Like many others, I started following the sport during the 1980s, 1985 to be exact. It was my brother who peaked my interest in the sport, and soon we were waking up at dawn to listen to the Tour de France on his small alarmclock radio during that summer. Before long, Colombian television began broadcasting major races, and the aesthetic qualities of cycling at that time were permanently ingrained in my mind. While I don't miss certain aspects of the sport as it was then (like the pastel colors preferred by some teams in the late 80s), there are other things that I often think about. I suppose it's no different than the way we fondly remember certain aspects of our childhood. Those were simpler times, or perhaps they were better times...or maybe they were just other times. Whatever the case may be, I still can't watch soccer matches today and not be enraged by the fact that referees wear any color other than black. Goalies wear short sleeves now too. It's all gone to hell. In the realm of cycling, I miss little things, stupid details that haven't really changed the sport. I miss the cheap "LONGINESS" on-screen graphic that would flash on screen as a stage winner rolled across the finish line.




I miss the commentary that was done by reporters on motorcycles during races, and I miss the interviews they conducted by reaching their microphone into the cars of directeur sportifs as they drove through freightening descents in the Alps. I miss seeing riders reach for their downtubes in order to shift, but not because of some technological reason. I just miss it because it's what I saw when I was a kid. Most of all, I miss the common use of cycling caps, and fear for their death. I particularly miss cycling caps, because they've been largely replaced (off the bike) by their evil and uncool cousin...the American baseball cap.



Et tu, Mauricio?



Yes, yes...I know that some cyclists still wear them.




I know that the decision to wear a dumb baseball cap on the podium is probably driven by availability or the sponsor's wishes. Here I am, thinking so much about a stupid cap, when in reality professionals merely wear whatever they are handed as they go up the steps to the podium. Professional cyclists merely use what they are given, and I don't imagine that any of them sit there in their hotel rooms pondering the past of headwear within the sport. This is something everyone should keep in mind when modeling any choice or behavior based on what a professional does...since he MUST use and wear what he is told to use and wear. It's his job, so be mindful of this during your daily professional worshiping ceremonies.



I know that my overly sentimental nostalgia is foolish. I guess I too am stuck in the past, but I can't help myself. Period-correct cycling is silly, as is some people's complete fear of change and/or technology...but I guess I have some of that in me. Helmets, along with other factors, have made cycling caps a rarity in today's professional landscape (but I don't dislike helmets...go figure). Most of the amateurs who wear cycling caps these days, do so in a perplexing manner. They are "urban cyclists" (for lack of a better term), and they mostly wear them off the bike, while at the same time mocking other cycling-specific attire. So in an unusual turn of events, I suspect that it's these individuals who are keeping the cycling cap industry afloat. Who would have expected such a thing back in 1985?




The beginning of the end. The on-ramp to the apocalypse.




I should mention at this point that I don't really mind any kind of person wearing a cycling cap, and don't really care how or when they wear it, but it's an unusual situation to be sure, since its primary intended use is seen less and less these days. For better or worse, cycling caps have become novelty items. They are sponsor giveaways, "retro" or "vintage inspired" items, and hand-crafted goods sold as fashion accessories. They are, in the eyes of many, nods to the past. As technology and pseudo-improvements creep into every single aspect of the sport (even water bottles got a substantial redesign this year), how much more low-tech can you get than a cotton cycling cap?




A rare case of cycling cap/baseball cap co-mingling



So at the risk of sounding a bit Jobst Brandtsian, I willingly admit that I miss the way things were. I miss cycling caps. I have no scientific data to prove how much better cycling caps worked at any particular task. I know that they were largely used as another place to put a logo. I know that they didn't improve ride quality, and I'm not sure I'm ready to debate anyone about the pros and cons of their use. I simply miss cycling caps because I do, which is the same reason why I look back fondly on my youth from time to time....because I do.