An Open Letter to BMC Bicycles

Dear BMC Bicycles:

I’ll get straight to the point:  I would like you to send me a 2008 BMC Pro Machine (blue) built up with Campagnolo Record components.  I understand that this request, coming from a 40 year old college English professor probably makes little sense.  It may come across as outrageously presumptuous, or even recklessly arrogant.  Let me explain, though, and I’m sure you will see the wisdom and, more importantly, the marketing value of such a move.

I first saw a BMC bike in VeloNews when Tyler Hamilton left CSC to ride for Phonak.  I instantly felt a heartsick longing for that aluminum lugged carbon frame, the SLT Team Machine.  The frame was incredibly beautiful in that purposefully engineered, industrial sublime manner.  The feelings it evoked reminded me of my first view of the Porsche 959 prototype when I was in high school.  Both machines exemplified the thrilling promise of serious-minded technology coupled with adrenaline-drunk exhilaration.  I knew that the Porsche was an unattainable dream, and, for a time, the BMC felt that way as well.  Although I never realized my dream to own, or even drive, a 959, the next time I was in the market for a bike, I knew without equivocation that I wanted that BMC.

My trusty Team Machine has served me well.  It is an awesome bike in every way.  I am a large, strong rider, yet I cannot make the bottom bracket flex.  It rides beautifully, and I can enter a race knowing that my showing will not be compromised by my equipment.  However, the sight of that new Pro Machine in blue, the color of my first ten speed, makes my heart ache with longing.  I recall the feeling of the wind in my nine-year-old hair on Christmas morning when I pedaled off on that blue Centurion, and the sparkling blue of the Pro Machine takes me back to that moment.

But I still hear you wondering, “Why should we give this guy a bike?”  Three words:  Tyler.  Floyd.  Vino.  Your company got burned three times by three different riders.  Your sponsorship dollars seemed to call down a curse of French testing labs.  People on bike discussion forums were making jokes about how every BMC bike came complete with a vial of EPO.  Here is the solution:  I ride clean.  The strongest thing I take before a race is Advil.  Sometimes I’ll smear some Ben Gay on my legs.  I will never embarrass you with a bad B sample.  Plus, I can write.  Tyler, Floyd, and Vino could not even hope to come close to me in the sprint to the dramatic metaphor.  And the mountain of gorgeous prose?  Forget those guys with their weak grasp of grammar and hackneyed sports cliches.  I ride and I write.  I would write pages about the wonders of the Pro Machine.

But there’s more.  Every single time I go to a local New England race (and I go to several dozen every year), I get stopped by someone who wants to talk to me about my BMC.  I sing its praises and smile at the naked longing on their faces.  Imagine how that response would increase exponentially if I were riding that blue Pro Machine instead of my gray Team Machine.  There would be no better advertisement.

Consider my offer carefully.  I may not have the notoriety of Floyd or the boy-next-door charm of Tyler or the fierce stare of Vino, but I am a real rider who can truly appreciate the importance of a fine machine.

If you decide to go with this, we can discuss the size and specific component selection over e-mail.

Thank you for your time.  I look forward to riding my new bike very soon.

Sincerely,

The Hobgoblin

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