Back in my day, we didn't get molly-coddling from our parents and teachers, we had a single pair of shoes to last us the year, we walked five miles to school and back each day, had no smart phones or Snapchat, had no computers to automate our lives, were lucky to get a plain baloney sandwich for lunch (no mustard, even), and thanked our directeur sportif for scheduling us to ride in all three grand tours. And if we didn't at least place in the top 10 in each event, we were put on bread and water rations for a month, confined to barracks, and we had to run wind-sprints up "The Hill" in the Libyan desert at high noon every day till the next grand tour started.