Indeed lamb is pretty tasty, especially
off the grill.
The problem is, of course, cycling is very much a mafia type structure within the peloton, for which you have a rather ruthless pecking order, which seems to be in the nature of the game. How else are you going to find strong guys willing to thrash their bodies for kilometers and kilometers, while only getting a pat on the back in the end and told that tomorrow's stage will be even harder?
Inherent to such a self-effacing, masochistic psychology is a predisposition toward obedience and restraint, while next comes the pressure to maintain omertà and to not "spit on the plate" from which you are fed. Humiliation and sacrifice run hand in hand, all in the name of reaching the team goal. One almost has to be sheepish to survived and have a career. Then there are the roosters, but you can’t have too many roosters in the hen house.
It’s no wonder this sport has gotten the governmental body it has.
There has never been a better time for the sheep to become men, though, because there seems to be a crack in the code of silence which has corrupted the sport from within, has been its very culture (so we can't blame the sheep really), for decades now if not since the very beginning.