I am not a writer.  Although I sometimes like to pretend otherwise while epinionating, I really wouldn't know how to where to even start if my goal was to write a novel or tell my life story.   When a non-writer - like me - actually has a life story that people would pay to read about - not like me - they often team up with a professional co-writer to get the job done properly.    This rather obvious idea was driven home quite clearly when I recently read A Dog in a Hat by American cyclist Joe Parkin, who made a significant tactical blunder when he chose to ride solo on this project.   The title refers to a Belgian phrase indicating that something is out of place, sticking out "like a sore thumb" or like an American cyclist in Belgium.

In this memoir, Parkin tells the story of his European cycling career centered in cycling-mad Belgium between 1987 and 1991.   Parkin spent most of his childhood frequently moving around the US and never laid down deep roots, which seems to have made it easier for him when he made the rash decision to move to Belgium to ride as an amateur, hoping to ascend into the professional ranks and actually make a living.   He'd had a short but successful stint as a high level amateur in the states, but dreamed of the big time in Europe with the grand tours and the ancient classics.   This was no small task, given that the Euro-centric biking world had no tolerance for primitive Americans, despite the recent success of Greg Lemond, who was viewed as a fluke.   Nevertheless, Parkin assimilated well and became fluent in Flemish and the unspoken rules of the peloton.   He reveals countless stories related to various mishaps, miscommunications, friends and enemies that he encountered racing across Europe.   He makes it clear that he eventually gained the respect of many hard-to-impress tough-guy Belgian cyclists, even if he didn't win many races.

To be honest, there is no topic I would rather read about than European professional cycling, especially about Belgium where cycling is popular like football in Green Bay or bull fighting in Pamplona.   If anyone should like this book, I should.  Unfortunately, it didn't work for me.   While Parkin clearly has many interesting stories to tell, most fall flat either for lack of a real ending or an abundance of negativity.     He makes it evident that he had to be a supremely driven and determined cyclist to make it in Belgium, but I didn't really sense any of that passion in his writing.  He must love the sport, but the book revealed little trace of that - or any - emotion.     

A Dog in a Hat fails for me not due to content - which I find fascinating - but due to the presentation.   I don't feel that I got to know Parkin as an individual in anything but a pedal-at-all-costs kind of way.  His often clunky writing left me with a perpetual bummer, not because he reveals a lot about the seamy dark side of professional cycling, but because he never - not once in 200 pages - seemed to genuinely enjoy himself.  I think that a talented co-writer could have taken Parkin's abundant raw materials and created an entertaining read, fashioning the stories in a more compelling way, teasing out the emotions that must be hiding in him somewhere and organizing the entire book into a cohesive structure.

Despite my genuine enthusiasm for the topic, A Dog in a Hat caused me unexpected suffering.  While he has reason to be proud of succeeding where few Americans had gone before, I don't really understand why Parkin wrote the book.  I'm willing to believe that with a good literary mechanic, some fresh tires, a new chain and some bright yellow handlebar tape this book could have succeeded.  But as it is, A Dog in a Hat doesn't make it to the finish line.

Recommended: No