The Proof

While manning the bar at the Royal River Grillhouse in Yarmouth, ME last Friday, I received a text message from Mr. Sylvan Geir Ellefson that read as follows:

2:24PM Fri, Aug 14: "Check Lance's Twitter, pics up soon he said. bitches :-)".

It is real. This is the undeniable proof that my best friend Sylvan Ellefson actually rode his bike with Lance Armstrong.

Some of you readers might not know who Sylvan is, what he looks like and consequently where he is located in this photo but I would be willing to bet that you could guess.

While four of the five are almost perfectly coordinated (even down to their miniature size), one is entirely different. No Trek jersey, no yellow and black Livestrong helmet, a solid four inches on the rest of the motley crew and Sylvan sticks out like a sore thumb (or a nordic skier wearing a bright red rain-coat).

Now imagine me, fresh off of a six-hour bar tending shift at the Grillhouse, driving home and logging onto twitter.com/lancearmstrong to find this photo with the accompanying comment, "just finished 2 rainy hrs w/ @benking89, @bjornselander, @guyeast, and @sylvanellefson."

Pretty damn cool, I thought. Lance Armstrong just gave my friend Sylvan Ellefson a shout out on the fastest growing micro-blogging site on the Internet. Better yet, Armstrong has almost 1.8 million people following his Twitter page. The result? 1.8 million people wondering, "who the heck is this giant in the red raincoat?" The extended result? An influx of additions to the unofficial (until I don it official as my millionaire mechanism) Sylvan Ellefson Fan Club (SEFC).

All in all, Sylvan had a day that he will never forget. And I had a day that made me look like a complete idiot.

I finished my day at work, sprinted to my car, sprinted back to the restaurant because I forgot to clock out of the computer, sprinted back to my car and drove (the speed limit, mom) back to my house. I rudely sprinted past my dogs, giving them an ice-cold shoulder in the process and launched myself at the computer in the kitchen.

With sweat dripping off of my forehead onto the keyboard and seeping into the couch, I pulled up this picture and laughed.  My jealousy was still present, but I smiled and simply brushed it all aside. 

While Sylvan gets this picture framed and has the story of a lifetime to tell, retell and overtell for decades, I will keep telling him lies like, "this is not that cool" or "I bet you paid $1,000 to do this".  

Denial, my friends.  It is that cool and it is worthy of telling and retelling.  Why? Because whether you like him or not, think he is a doper or hate the sport of cycling, Lance Armstrong is one of the greatest athletes in the history of sports.  And my best friend got to spend half of a day with him.  

Sylvan, don't take that paragraph too seriously about me telling lies.  That paragraph itself was a lie because truly, I have been the one telling, retelling and overtelling your story. 

And I am completely happy to do that.