Blazin' Saddles

'One Second' is the name of the 1997 album by Paradise Lost, the British gothic rock group hailing from Halifax.

'One Second', which featured the hit single 'One Second' (including the catchy chorus "And for one second I wished you were dead") supposedly marked a switch from the band's doom metal roots to a more synthpop direction.

Maybe the longhaired Yorkshire crooners were paying homage to Yello, the bizarre Swiss electronica duo, who in 1987 released their fifth studio album called - you've got it - 'One Second'.

When checking out the freakily-moustachioed double act on the interweb, Blazin' Saddles was flabbergasted to learn that the fourth song on Yello's sixth album 'Flag' is called… 'Blazing Saddles'. If ever there was a sign that this blog is going in the correct direction, surely that is one second to none?

Cycling fans around the world may not be familiar with the mellifluous sounds of Yello, but they will definitely be au fait with some of the films for which they have provided scores. The likes of 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off', 'Top Gun' and - Blazin' Saddles's personal favourite - 'Nuns on the Run' should grace the video cabinet of most wholesome young men.

But Blazin' Saddles is digressing. The topic of the day is 'one second', which is the amount of time that will be added on to Coordinated Universal Time (inexplicably given the acronym UTC) at 23:59:59 on December 31 2008. Which bodes well if you are running roughly one second late to your New Year's Eve party.

One second is also how long it takes the male of the species to apply a new 'easy-on' make of condom that, as we speak, is being launched in South Africa. It goes without saying that one second's worth of thrusts is a pretty good summation of what occurs when Blazin' Saddles finds himself in the position to use such hi-tech equipment, which sounds bad, but is only two seconds short of Boris Becker's wardrobe activity, so lay off the guffaws.

But before you all leave this page with the thought "Hang on, I thought this was meant to be a cycling blog?" Blazin' Saddles will get to the point.

It has been rather drawn out, not to say predictable, but one second - one whole second, or one miserly second, pending on how you look at it - is what separates the new yellow jersey, Cadel Evans of Australia, from the Luxembourger Frank Schleck in the GC.

As far as margins go, it is a pretty small one. The smallest, in fact, by which one could win the Tour de France - and seven seconds less than the margin that separated the 1989 Tour winner Greg Lemond from bespectacled Frenchman Laurent Fignon.

And it's a good thing Cadel Evans can count because, were his adding up skills not up to scratch, the 31-year-old could have been spending the rest day in a state of confusion.

Speaking after donning the sacred maillot jaune for the first time in his career, the Silence-Lotto head honcho said: "If you look at the overall standings, Frank Schleck seems to be the first threat."

Winning a three-week bike race is hard enough, but it's encouraging that Evans has a basic grasp on how the universal system of timing works.

Evans was understandably upbeat after he maintained his composure on the ascent to Hautacam to move to the summit of the overall standings. Having crashed badly just 24 hours earlier, the former mountain biker had run through the whole gamut of emotions on the Tour's first challenging day in the mountains.

"Yesterday was my Tour low, today is my Tour high," he said, referring to the tumble that road-rashed the left hand side of his body. "But as you go, your body re-adapts and you feel a bit better, especially as the team doctor yesterday pressed me from nails to neck.

"To be frank, it hurt more on the descents when parts of my body were bouncing," Evans added, without explaining just how he knew what it would have been like to be Frank (Schleck).

With a conclusion that would have had Jan Ullrich and Stefan Schumacher nodding in agreement, Evans said: "Every little bit of speed hurt."

It was a dramatic change from yesterday's Evans who, instead of speaking to the press, simply tossed them his badly-damaged helmet and said: "This is your interview."

Hoping the ever-enigmatic Evans would give out a similarly cryptic dose to the media on Monday, Blazin' Saddles approached him after the stage with a series of questions, fingers crossed that he would nonchalantly toss over his yellow jersey and then squeak: "This is your interview."

But no. Instead Evans looked at Blazin' Saddles for precisely one second, before leaving with the words - (God, this is predictable, isn't it?) - "That was your interview."

As there is no stage on Tuesday you have been spared one of Blazin' Saddles's tenuous predictions. But don't fear, he will be back tomorrow with a special rest day run down, featuring fictional postcards sent home by the riders as well as the usual vaguely cycling-related fodder.

Regarding rest-day food, Blazin' Saddles will be gorging himself on his south western favourite - a Salade Landaise, which boasts foie gras, duck gizzards, lardons, goat's cheese and another five or six heart-attack inducing ingredients.

With it he will be drinking copious glasses of Rosé on the day he learnt that, long dismissed by purists as uncultured plonk, it has overtaken white wine in volume sales in France, buoyed by a fashion for pink.

After losing more than four minutes on the final climb of stage 10 to his main rivals, Spain's Alejandro Valverde had this to say: "It is obvious that this was not our best day, but it was not such a bad one. Now we will analyse the situation."

Ever the analyst, Blazin' Saddles will help him out: Alejandro, you're not going to win the Tour and forthwith you will no longer be a part of my Fantasy Tour plans.