Show Me The Money

11 February – Finally alley cat day has rolled around – tried to force myself a bit of a sleep-in but the lure of Sunday pancakes broke the fast.  Took a while to get the gear together but managed to strap it all in and headed down with Dave to Martin Place.  Had forgotten that the start of the Year of the Pig also hit today and was a bit nervous when I saw the gridlock it was causing around the Haymarket area – not very suitable for racing conditions.  As it was, it mostly dissipated around the north end of town where the race mainly took place so there was nothing really to worry about.  A fair turnout of about 16 riders (and a very good turnout of an almost equal number of checkpoint volunteers) meant that the race was on.  Synchronised swatches at 1:10pm stating that it was 12:50 and got everyone into position – checkpoints headed off for Farrer Place, Oxford Street, Cuthbert St, The Hungry Mile, a few over the bridge and the top of Martin Place and the riders lay their bikes at the forbidden zone and crossed the street – Smokin’ Joe made his triumphant return a minute before gun time and once our clocks struck 1 they shot over the road and made the short climb to pick the manifests.  Rode past a few checkpoints on the way over to see that all was going smoothly and had to field a few calls on the minutiae of managing the drops and picks but also had to get back to the finish line before the first finisher so started to make my way to Marrickville.  Got lost on the way but eventually found it and didn’t have to wait long for the first finisher – Smokin’ Joe rushed in the front door panting ‘Have I won?’ - evidently not as the race was structured so that it was the messenger who earned the most and not finished quickest – the rest trickled in over the next half hour or so, I was glad that about a third of the field managed to make the final drop on time (this meant that the changed finish line from Glebe to Marrickville wasn’t too taxing) - a few desperate pleas from various contestants contesting the validity of their bonus materials and some rather illegible times on the manifests meant the declaration was delayed somewhat and there was a little controversy about the fact that there was a dead heat – one came in quicker but the rules were categorical that it was amount earned that declared the winner. As it was, Mailcall Pete, being the working courier, was awarded the glory of the champions jersey (ancient Sydney courier tradition) – very surprising result.  In hindsight perhaps I should have assigned more cash to deliveries and less to bonuses but we live and learn.  Great barbecue to follow in celebration of Kate’s retirement and upcoming baby – a few more events to cap the afternoon off and perhaps a bit too much beer.  Felt a little guilty on my return home about the fact that the desiccated coconut from the 25 lamingtons I’d almost tipped over the forecourt was still coating the entrance but am sure the rains will come soon ...