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Dead Fuckin' Last in the Alleycat
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Village Voice, July 5, 2007
Dead Fuckin’ Last. DFL for short. It’s generally not the best way to
finish a bike race or any other competition. But most races don’t begin
at one bar and end at another. Most races aren’t called Chumpionships.
“We’ve got one plan, one goal,” said Tom Sarvella, flashing his grills
as he waited for the Staten Island ferry to dock and the alleycat to
get underway. “Dead Fuckin’ Last. DFL is much different from DNF — Did
Not Finish. DFL takes skill. I’ve got a streak of about ten DFLs going.”
This alleycat — a no-holds-barred, share-the-streets-with-traffic bike
messenger race first run in Toronto on Valentine’s Day 1996 — kicked
off the first East Coast Messenger Chumpionship, a five-day bike
messengers jamboree of sorts that organizers hope will become something
of a tradition. About 45 current and former bike messengers met at the
Patriot Bar on Chambers Street at 2 p.m. on Independence Day, drank
beers, and awaited further instructions.
At the start, they sprinted to their bikes to find a note stuck in
their spokes. “Greetings operative, Agent 0031 has been captured behind
enemy lines… meet agent 0031’s contact on the main deck of the Staten
Island ferry….You now have 20 minutes to obtain two 16-ounce cans of
beer …and rendezvous on the ferry. Do not run push or shove in the
ferry terminal or YOU WILL BE ARRESTED.”
No one was arrested even if racers bent a few rules, bombing down
Manhattan streets at breakneck speed to hit the eight necessary
checkpoints to gather the clues needed to piece together the location
of the finish line: the 169 Bar on East Broadway.
“Alleycats are not illegal; they are alegal,” said Josh Whitesnake, who
organized the race and the Chumpionships. “We are not saying you break
the law. You should stop at lights. If people do, that’s another
question. But we’ve never had a problem with the cops. And we don’t
want anyone getting hurt either.”
One checkpoint: cruising to the Irish Hunger Memorial on the Hudson
River to find out when it was dedicated. The other destinations weren't
so easy to find. Anyone know where Mosco, Beach and Collister streets
are? Like a game of hangman, each destination provided a clue — one
letter or number in the name of the final destination. The winner
Austin H. finished the alleycat, hitting eight spots, all south of
Houston Street, in a little more than 20 minutes.
“Some people value DFL,” said the 25-year-old from Brooklyn. “I prefer
to win.”
The winner might get a messenger bag, gear or even a new bike when
awards are handed out on Sunday. DFL gets an award too. True to his
word, Sarvella rolled up to the 169 Bar as most contestants were on
working on their fourth or fifth drink or wolfing down some dumplings.
Was Sarvella DFL? It wasn’t really clear. No one was really counting
anymore anyway. But Sarvella smiled.
“If you’re fast, you can win races,” Sarvella said. “DFL involves
drinking prowess and slow rolling. It takes more skill than you think.”
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