The flow of adulation for Cadel Evans following his Tour De France win has only just begun. Fans of Australia’s new Golden (or, more accurately, Yellow) Boy are no longer just that. A spawning faith is growing. Deifying Cadel and lambasting all who oppose.
“Cadellites”, as they refer to themselves, are popping up everywhere; on our roads, in our cafes, outside our children’s schools. They can be identified by bright yellow jerseys, taut little buttocks and mind-blowing calves.
They preach their doctrine to all who pass, screaming “Cadel is God” and “Better than Bradman”, spruiking lycra-bound philosophy while brandishing enormous wooden lungs to signify “the strength within”.
Any opposition to the group has been quickly stymied, with suggestions the NSW Government is offering clandestine support in the hope someone might finally use their bike lanes. Premier Barry O’Farrell has denied all allegations and has been seen shuffling around his office mumbling “why did I sign up for this?”
Sydney Morning Herald columnist Mia Freedman experienced the full brunt of Cadellism when she dared question the importance of Evans’ achievements. She exclaimed: “I couldn’t believe it!”
“For three days I had a full yellow-jerseyed, bile-spitting escort wherever I went. They keep sending pizzas to my house and have even shaved my cat!”
Several others have also fallen afoul of these bi-wheeled oddities. Gary Taylor of Camperdown explained: “I merely pointed out some other bloke had won it seven times before him and the next thing I know there are burning paper bags full of who knows what on my doorstep, and I seem to be subscribed to every sadism periodical under the sun.”
No Cadellite had been willing to comment on these accusations of heavy-handedness at the time of publishing.
Meanwhile, Cadel himself has washed his hands of it, instead focusing on his aim to replace Tiger Woods as the new face of Gillette. “I’m perfect!”
“I even shave my gooch!” he added.
In these uncertain times, anybody who approaches appearing physically fit and wearing yellow should be treated with caution. Any sign of fear or retreat and they will pounce. Offer a firm handshake, look them in the eye, and strike them emphatically in the genitals – it is the only way.
By Al McClintock
I have to agree with this article – Cadelism is really starting to grip me. Just the other day I found myself veering wildly across traffic in my automobile to high five a gent I thought was one of the Cadelati. Even though it was just a stop/go man in some nude khakis and a tight high-vis vest (and yes, with impecible calves) it defintely gave me reason to consider this new phenomenom. It also sadly cost a little black labrador named Terrence his life. You have blood on your hands, Cadel….
any piece of literature that combines describing the art of retribution, via burning faecal matter, & the under-used medical term ‘gooch’; gets my stamp of approval. walkley, anyone….?