Except when they are better than we are at rugby, cricket, comedy or building hobbits, we rejoice with our bros across the ditch.

Greg Henderson's stage win at the Vuelta broke a 29-year drought for New Zealand at grand tours. That's longer, for reference, than it took Danny Morrison to score a Test run, but not quite as long as it took Peter Jackson to win an Oscar and avenge the 1958 snubbing of Snows of Aorangi.

Chris Jenner rode a successful team time trial in 2001, but for their only previous individual stage winner, Kiwis have to go back to 1980, when Paul Jesson saluted in the Vuelta.

Since Jesson hung up the cleats in the same year, the New Zealander's lot in Europe has been that of tireless domestique. And that's when things go well.

At this year's Tour de France, while Australians were wondering whether it was faintly treasonous to celebrate Heinrich Haussler's win, Julian Dean played the role of tireless domestique who is shot with an air rifle.

Even Henderson himself, whose thoroughly choice year features stage wins in lesser Spanish races, recently had to explain to Columbia-HTC that the flag on his jersey was supposed to have red stars, not white.

"All the champions are here today and I beat them all," Henderson told Radio Sport after Monday's win, using winner's privilege to make "all the champions" mean Borut Bozic and Wouter Weylandt. "It's an absolutely amazing thing for me."

As it should be for all of us – especially now that New Zealand is getting 30cm closer with every earthquake.

Another 8,333,333 jolts like that, and Auckland will be Outer Wollongong and Hendo will be more Australian than Haussler.

Shape-shifting lizards

The hearing into Danilo Di Luca's blood doping at the Giro continues, and after spending at least a minute looking at the evidence, Di Luca isn't ruling out a conspiracy.

"I'm not ruling out a conspiracy," he told the Italian Olympic Committee this week in a low voice. "But before I can confirm it I have to be sure."

The Broom Wagon knows what Di Luca means. We have our own methods of investigating when people are conspiring against us, primarily involving a tinfoil hat which we put on at the critical moment.

It works like a charm. On goes the hat, and people begin to act differently: avoiding eye contact, moving to the other side of the bus – once even interrupting our speech and cancelling the rest of the sales presentation.

Given Di Luca's two positive results inside a week, his case is probably the work of a shadowy cabal, featuring the Knights Templar, shape-changing lizards, Italy's anti-doping prosecutor and a talentless imposter posing as Paul McCartney.

There's no other explanation. Is there?

"I would have to be a man without a brain to have used CERA, which stays in the blood and urine for a month, especially during the Giro," Di Luca said, tugging the tinfoil over his ears.

Far across the Twitterverse

@taylorphinney understands the burden of the nose-to-the-grindstone professional athlete. For instance, on Monday he learned how to slice a pencil in half with a business card.

@mickrogers gets some phat cyclo-cross treads and heads off-road

The 60-man pile-up at the end of Tuesday's Vuelta stage gives @ChiaraPasserini pause for thought, and Colin Montgomerie hope

@PaulSherwen provides safety tips on storing firewood. Or possibly on keeping ants.

On the day he abandons the Vuelta, @wegelius has a premonition

Continuing the fine Twitter tradition of mentioning every film you ever see, @ChristianVDV quite enjoyed that new one with the war and the shouting.

Classic YouTube

Practicing your pedal stroke is a lot like Riverdancing. Upper body movement is kept to a minimum, the legs do all the work and, really, it's something best kept off-camera and in the garage. Meet the Michael Flatley of rollers (bonus groin shot right at the end).