The staccato tap of hobnail boots echoes through the gallery of shame as the army of self righteousness continues it’s long march down the highway of hypocrisy, cabbages and rotten fruit in hand, ready to hurl the aforementioned articles at the trussed and inanimate figure of Lance Armstrong as he dies of shame in front of 5 million Americans and scores more people from around the world.
The ignorant, the narrow minded, the cowardly masses who have never achieved any more in their lives than being able to register a Twitter account have taken gruesome delight in venturing onto the world wide web and dragging the name of a man 99% of us have never met even further through the mud.
Sports journalists who I have never seen write a single word about cycling, social commentators who have no interest in sport, cycling commentators and promoters and administrators who enabled doping in the game, have all been scathing in their comment on Lance Armstrong. Hypocrites, every last one!
Lance Armstrong is a bully, a jerk, an egotist and a man who possibly has personality problems. But is he really a cheat?
Doping in cycling didn’t begin with Lance Armstrong and I would bet all I own that it won’t end with him.
From the earliest days of the sport, competitors have willingly taken drugs to dull the pain, to get through the day, to ease the hurt and be able to race again tomorrow. And, for the most part, a blind eye was turned to it all. EPO and blood doping changed the landscape forever.
It was a matter of course among competitive cyclists that they believed the best man would still win despite the dope but modern drugs changed the equation. For the first time blood transfusions and manipulation could make a racehorse out of a donkey and if you didn’t get onto the program then you may as well not even try to match it with the best.
For many cyclists, American and Australian too, racing in Europe is a lifetime dream that won’t be given away lightly.
Armstrong, Hamilton, Landis and scores of others, men who had nothing much going for them in life were drawn to cycle racing in their youth, found they were good at it, and saw it as a ticket out of mundane existence.
Soon they were on national teams, venturing to Europe, winning races and attracting interest of professional scouts. A professional contract was signed and they were living the dream. Residing in Europe, racing bikes for a living. Could it get any better? Unfortunately, it couldn’t.
Week after week, venturing out to do combat with the hardened European peloton saw only a return on the purchase which amounted to nothing. Every race a shattering reminder of the deficiency of talent when compared to the best. A steady trickle of doubt became a raging torrent. Managers and owners begin to look sideways at you. There will be no contract for next year if things don’t improve.
Then one night as you lay on a massage table, a team-mate mentions that he knows how to level the playing field. The only way. Dope.
Some refuse and return home. The educated ones. They can get a good job without resorting to drugs and putting up with the pain and struggle besides. But for the rest, they are gazing at a different mirage.
To guys like Landis and Hamilton, Armstrong too and others, what is there to aspire to at home? A job in a bike shop? Digging ditches or labouring in the cold or heat? Driving a truck? A life of of eroding dignity in a factory? A reputation among the local amateurs because they heard a whisper that you once rode on a pro team in Europe? For them, it’s a no-brainer.
So they dope and soon the world takes on a sharper look. They are part of this world now, and all the lies which go with it. So it is with Lance Armstrong.
Lance didn’t invent doping but he took it to a new level. He lied and bullied and hurt people to protect himself and his flawed legacy. But as with every conspiracy to defraud which grows large on deception and greed, someone soon sang, then another and eventually the whole house of cards came down and his reputation was destroyed as utterly as any man’s ever has been. But is he a cheat?
Lance Armstrong and those who raced with him and against him felt they were competing on a level playing field. They knew most were doing it. They took the risk and accepted it. They operated within the secret parameters which the sport allowed. Lance Armstrong took his chances as did the rest who doped and got caught. Now he is paying the price and that should be enough. I won’t trample on the grave of a man who only did what the rest were doing, and may still be doing.
If the scourging of Lance Armstrong runs out of the sport the administrators who put in place the conditions that produced him and his ilk, the poor unfortunates who merely wanted to make their mark by racing bikes but found themselves backed into a corner with no choice but to take drugs, then it will have been worth it and those who mention his name with such disdain but with little understanding can live happily in their supposed superiority.
But, if things remain the same, and those conditions still exist, then then the sport will continue to struggle in the quagmire of public doubt and derision. And it deserves more than that.
The ignorant, the narrow minded, the cowardly masses who have never achieved any more in their lives than being able to register a Twitter account have taken gruesome delight in venturing onto the world wide web and dragging the name of a man 99% of us have never met even further through the mud.
Sports journalists who I have never seen write a single word about cycling, social commentators who have no interest in sport, cycling commentators and promoters and administrators who enabled doping in the game, have all been scathing in their comment on Lance Armstrong. Hypocrites, every last one!
Lance Armstrong is a bully, a jerk, an egotist and a man who possibly has personality problems. But is he really a cheat?
Doping in cycling didn’t begin with Lance Armstrong and I would bet all I own that it won’t end with him.
From the earliest days of the sport, competitors have willingly taken drugs to dull the pain, to get through the day, to ease the hurt and be able to race again tomorrow. And, for the most part, a blind eye was turned to it all. EPO and blood doping changed the landscape forever.
It was a matter of course among competitive cyclists that they believed the best man would still win despite the dope but modern drugs changed the equation. For the first time blood transfusions and manipulation could make a racehorse out of a donkey and if you didn’t get onto the program then you may as well not even try to match it with the best.
For many cyclists, American and Australian too, racing in Europe is a lifetime dream that won’t be given away lightly.
Armstrong, Hamilton, Landis and scores of others, men who had nothing much going for them in life were drawn to cycle racing in their youth, found they were good at it, and saw it as a ticket out of mundane existence.
Soon they were on national teams, venturing to Europe, winning races and attracting interest of professional scouts. A professional contract was signed and they were living the dream. Residing in Europe, racing bikes for a living. Could it get any better? Unfortunately, it couldn’t.
Week after week, venturing out to do combat with the hardened European peloton saw only a return on the purchase which amounted to nothing. Every race a shattering reminder of the deficiency of talent when compared to the best. A steady trickle of doubt became a raging torrent. Managers and owners begin to look sideways at you. There will be no contract for next year if things don’t improve.
Then one night as you lay on a massage table, a team-mate mentions that he knows how to level the playing field. The only way. Dope.
Some refuse and return home. The educated ones. They can get a good job without resorting to drugs and putting up with the pain and struggle besides. But for the rest, they are gazing at a different mirage.
To guys like Landis and Hamilton, Armstrong too and others, what is there to aspire to at home? A job in a bike shop? Digging ditches or labouring in the cold or heat? Driving a truck? A life of of eroding dignity in a factory? A reputation among the local amateurs because they heard a whisper that you once rode on a pro team in Europe? For them, it’s a no-brainer.
So they dope and soon the world takes on a sharper look. They are part of this world now, and all the lies which go with it. So it is with Lance Armstrong.
Lance didn’t invent doping but he took it to a new level. He lied and bullied and hurt people to protect himself and his flawed legacy. But as with every conspiracy to defraud which grows large on deception and greed, someone soon sang, then another and eventually the whole house of cards came down and his reputation was destroyed as utterly as any man’s ever has been. But is he a cheat?
Lance Armstrong and those who raced with him and against him felt they were competing on a level playing field. They knew most were doing it. They took the risk and accepted it. They operated within the secret parameters which the sport allowed. Lance Armstrong took his chances as did the rest who doped and got caught. Now he is paying the price and that should be enough. I won’t trample on the grave of a man who only did what the rest were doing, and may still be doing.
If the scourging of Lance Armstrong runs out of the sport the administrators who put in place the conditions that produced him and his ilk, the poor unfortunates who merely wanted to make their mark by racing bikes but found themselves backed into a corner with no choice but to take drugs, then it will have been worth it and those who mention his name with such disdain but with little understanding can live happily in their supposed superiority.
But, if things remain the same, and those conditions still exist, then then the sport will continue to struggle in the quagmire of public doubt and derision. And it deserves more than that.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 