Jack has been writing about cycling and multisport for over a decade, arriving at road.cc via 220 Triathlon Magazine in 2017. He worked across all areas of the website including tech, news and video, and also contributed to eBikeTips before being named Editor of road.cc in 2021 (much to his surprise). Jack has been hooked on cycling since his student days, and currently has a Trek 1.2 for winter riding, a beloved Bickerton folding bike for getting around town and an extra beloved custom Ridley Helium SLX for fantasising about going fast in his stable. Jack has never won a bike race, but does have a master's degree in print journalism and two Guinness World Records for pogo sticking (it's a long story).
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He also looked very cool doing the punditry on the Giro.
That old 90's Team Halfords Ever Ready team kit that Wiggo has on is pretty awesome. Whatever you think of Wiggo, he's a very stylish rider.
It is taken from an unfortunate angle, though: "moobs like Jagger" springs to mind
Cycle Assist are clearly a firm to be avoided, without even the most basic knowledge about cycling, and completely disproved helmet stats.
DB goes for a haircut. He's wearing headphones. The barber (stylist, whatever!) sits him down, asks and then shouts for him to take the headphones off, but DB shakes his head. The barber perseveres until he finds he has to remove them to carry on his work. He takes them off - DB looks a little startled and collapses on the floor. The barber dials 999 and starts resuscitation. An ambulance arrives and they take DB away.
The barber, feeling a little traumatised, sits down and sees the headphones lying on the floor. He picks them up and has a listen.
"Breathe in, David. Breathe out, David"
I'll get my coat
He did actually complete a jigsaw. Took him about 4 hours and he was really chuffed because on the box it said, "4 to 6 years."
(Old ones are the best, right?)
You have made my morning.
Alex Ferguson calls David Beckham into his office.
'David,'he says, 'I'm worried about your performance the last few games. You've been hopeless, completely off form.'
'Sorry, boss', says David. 'I've not been myself lately. I've got a few problems at home.'
'Oh dear,' says Ferguson, pretending to care. 'What's up? Posh and Brooklyn okay?'
'Oh they're fine', says David. 'It's just that something's really bugging me and I'm losing sleep and everything. I can't concentrate on my football and it's really messing me up.'
'Whatever's the matter, David?' says Fergie.
'Well, boss', says David, it's pretty serious. You see I'm really stuck on this jigsaw and...'
'A jigsaw?!!!' shouts Alex. 'You're f......g up every time you play because of a bloody jigsaw?!!!'
'Yeah, boss, but you don't understand, it's really doing myhead in!' says David in that horrible whining voice. 'It's really hard and it's this picture of a tiger and it looks really good on the box and I'm sure I've got all the bits and everything but I just can't get it right and it's doing my head in and I even had my hair cut to try and cool my brain down and...'
'David, David, David,' says Ferguson. 'You've got to get a grip. It's affecting our games and nothing is as important as Manchester Uniteds' success, other than Roy Keane's wages, obviously.'
'Yeah, boss,' says David, 'but it's this picture of a tiger and it looks really good on the box and I really want to finish it but it's really hard and it's doing my head in and it's this picture..and it's a tiger and it's hard...and I can't make the bits fit and, er, it's really hard, er, boss and, er, it's a tiger, er,... on the box...er...boss.'
Ferguson waits until even Beckham realises he's repeating himself and has got nothing else to say which took a bit longer than usual. 'David,' he says, with that conceited, irritating, smug smile he uses for self-congratulatory post-match interviews. 'Bring the tiger jigsaw in and let's have a look at it. For Christ's sake, we've got to get you back to playing football.'
'Oh thanks, boss,' says David, 'that'd be really helpful 'cos it's really hard and it's a picture of a tiger and it's doing my head in, that tiger is.'
So David brings the jigsaw into Ferguson's office.
'Here it is, boss.' He says, showing Ferguson the picture on the box. 'Look, boss, it's this tiger, right, and it's a really good picture and everything but I just can't do it and it's really hard and it's doing my head in and it's this picture here of a tiger,' and Beckham empties all the pieces from the box all over Ferguson's desk.
'David,' sighs Ferguson, 'put the f*...g Frosties back in the box.'