It wasn't quite instant but the wait was totally worth it…

It was during the 1991 Tour DuPont professional cycling event. My teammate, Radiscza Cubric, was our designated field sprinter. It was his job to navigate flailing elbows, ten-man crashes and the other assorted chaos that takes place when one-hundred professional cyclists all charge towards the finish line in one treacherous and disorderly bunch.

I can't quite recall which stage it was when an Italian racer who's name I no longer remember did the dirty deed.

I was probably twenty or thirty guys back, having just spent myself protecting Radiscza's position over the previous 500 meters. We were maybe 25 yards from the finish line when i saw the Italian grab the back of Radiscza's jersey and sling himself forward off of it. Not only is this incredibly dangerous, it's also illegal in professional cycling.

Radiscza had been in excellent position prior to the foul, for certain heading to a top-five finish. The hand sling sent him rocketing backwards and he flung his arm skywards to indicate the foul.

We crossed the line and Radiscza was justifiably incensed. Post-race adrenaline combined with righteous indignation exploded in my teammate at the same time the cheater rolled by on his way to the podium.

Radiscza stepped in his path as he tried to ride by with a slight smirk on his face.

I thought Radiscza was going to kill him. Instead, he grasped the cheater's handle bars and put his face inches from the Italian's.

"God sees everything," he hissed. Then stepped back.

The following day was another flat stage and another terrifying group finish with the whole field together.

As luck would have it Radiscza sustained a tire puncture a few kilometers back so we weren't contesting the furious finish.

It was a good thing too.

One of the metal barricades used to keep the crowds back over the last few kilometers had shifted about six inches into the roadway from where it should have been placed.

As the racers neared the line they apparently snaked hard to the left and the leading rider who was sprinting head-down put himself right into the barrier causing a huge, chain-reaction crash.

Riders, bikes, helmets, water bottles and other items were strewn across the road. And right next to the barricade, minus an acre of skin and one functional collarbone was Radiscza's buddy from the day before.

Radiscza crossed the line, leaned his bike against the barricade, and walked over to where the Italian lay moaning and sobbing on the pavement; his season clearly over.

He bent down over the prostate cheater and I could just barely make out his voice over the sirens.

"Remember what I told you yesterday?" He said."God sees everything."

Blam. Instant karma 24 hours delayed.

Here are a few examples for your sadistic viewing pleasure: