The man behind the Bastard

March 9, 2013

When I think of a bike shop, I usually think of his bike shop.  The guy was gruff, impatient.  Also honest and serious with plenty of opinions.  Especially about bikes, because we're all opinionated about the things we love.  I only saw him on a bicycle once.  He was riding towards the shop on a cool day.  He and his bike seemed to belong together.  They were both tall, skinny, hunched yet aerodynamic.  I'm guessing it was a Bianchi, because he seemed to be that sort of a classic bicyclist.  He was a no bullshit kind of guy.  I was sorry to hear that he passed away last year from cancer.

I bought a Bridgestone MB-5 from him in 1991.  I bought another bike after that, but I think I still spend more time on the MB-5 than the other bike.

The shop is in an old building with an uneven wood floor.  It's the kind of place that seems to exist in a place apart from the rest of the world.  Timeless.  Kind of like a temple.  A place where you can reflect.  Make decisions.  The bikes are stacked in tightly.  Plenty of older bikes.  Not a whole lot of carbon.  If you wanted to buy a bike from him you had to be able to explain why,  because he wanted you to get something that would work for you.  Something that would last.  Well you helped me get the right bike.  And you even gave the bike his name.  The Old Bastard.  Thanks John Molloy.  Jan 7, 1947 – Jun 13, 2012.