Okay, just one more question I have no answer for.
Let's say you are a Frenchman who enjoys his or her athletics. Let's stick with him for a second or two. The Tour de France comes through your area yearly. On the morning of the race's proximity, you prepare a picnic basket full of wine, cheese and bread, all of delightful local vintage. You take said basket and other comforts of home to a spot just off the road near the bend into town. You get there plenty early and set up for the morning's excitement. At around 10:23 am, the first cyclist zooms by, barely leading a pelaton of about seventy riders. By 10:24, even the slowest laggard of the lot has come and gone out of sight. At 10:25 am, you pull out the wine and start drinking.
What, oh what, compells ANYBODY to watch a minute-long slice of a race that lasts HOURS and finishes in some far-off locale? Can ANYBODY explain this?
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