Photo by Jacky Naegelen REUTERS
I originally wrote this piece for the
http://thebigslice.org/ Taking Back Lance's Armstrong's Yellow Bracelet It really has nothing to do with "Education, Kids, or the Technology that brings them together", the usual topics for my blog. However, the life lessons of honesty, courage, and living your life with integrity certainly apply.
Lance Armstrong the cyclist, not the cancer survivor, activist, or
seven time Tour winner, caught my cycling spectator's eye when he won
the Junior National Road Race Championship in 1991. The road to becoming
a professional cyclist is littered with youngsters that had early
success racing, but couldn't quite keep up with the big boys when it
came time to get paid for spinning pedals for hours on end. So Lance's
first big win, in and of itself was nothing to get excited about, it was
how he won and how he handled the success. It was clear that he was not
done winning. He had that something that many elite athletes
possess...they have
it.
It is the thing that separates spectator from competitor.That
it
is hard to pin down, but we all know it when we see the attributes. Joe
Dimaggio and Ali to name a couple. Barry Bonds and Michael to name a
couple more. You don't have to be arrogant, dismissive of others
talents, or a jerk to be the best in your field, but those qualities
sure seem to be present in most of those who achieve that high mark in
their sport. Lance, partly due to his young age, was characterized as
brash. Whatever the moniker, he had
it, and he had my attention.
Lance
went on to become World Champion at 21 and he earned the right to wear
the coveted Rainbow Jersey on his uniform for the rest of his career at
an unheard of young age. He won multiple Tour Stages, European
semi-classics, and everything on this continent, seemingly at will. He
brought me to tears as I watched him win the Tour stage into Limoges',
pointing to the heavens, just days after the tragic death of his
Motorola teammate during an earlier stage. I believed in him.
He
signed a big contract ($2 million plus) with an established French
team, Colfidis, and was later unceremoniously dumped by the same while
he was undergoing treatment for his aggressive testicular cancer that
had spread to his lungs and brain. Over time, word started trickling
through the cycling press that Lance was recovering and was going to
survive. Reports had him training, but most cycling fans were surprised
to hear he was preparing to come back to racing. I remember reading the
web reports with disbelief as Lance finished 4th overall in the 1998
Vuelta Espana, Spain's Grand Tour. I tore off the cover of Velonews (a
cycling magazine that covers European races) that covered the race and
taped it on my basement wall next to my bikes. The cover featured Lance
pedaling out of the saddle, soaked with rain, covered in grit. I looked
at the photo before each of my rides.
Shortly after the Vuelta, it
was announced that he would compete in the following year's Tour de
France, an unbelievable attempt to be sure. I had seen the photos of how
cancer had ravaged his body, I had read the stories of how old ladies
passed him on the road during his rides at home during recovery, and
where in the middle of six-hour training ride in the rain in the North
Carolina mountains he realized that he still loved riding his bike.
Competition in the world's toughest, fastest stage race seemed
impossible. I believed in him
After the Le Puy du Foy
Prologue in 1999, I ran like a child from the living room into the
kitchen where my wife was washing dishes in the kitchen to yell, from 3
feet way, that Lance was in Yellow! During Stage 2, I watched the
ruthlessness of his team's attack on the slippery causeway Passage du
Gois, a causeway in France that is only traversable at low tide, when a
crash caused a split in the peloton (the French name for the large group
in a race). Lance capitalized on the misfortune of his competitors as
they hit the deck or got caught behind the carnage with no way to move
forward. Lance's team went 'full gas,' in cycling terms, to put a time
gap on his competitors that they would never make up. It was maybe the
first glimpse for many Americans of what the Texan would do to win a
bike race. The aggressive tactics were chalked up to "that's racing",
but we came to understand with time and hindsight that the guy that so
many looked up to, only to later let us down, would do almost anything
to win.
There were whisperings of Lance's cheating at his first
Tour after returning from cancer, and the first glimpse of his go-to
tactic of intimidation and ostracizing
anyone who
went against him. However, it seemed very unlikely that someone who had
just gone through a life threatening illness would do anything to
jeopardize their health, or so his fans and defenders quickly responded
to counter the insinuations. How could you put that into your body after
what you had just been through? It didn't make sense. It still doesn't.
He couldn't really bring his kids to the podium and share a moment of
glory that he achieved by cheating could he? He wouldn't say,
(paraphrasing) "why would I cheat because I have to look my kids in the
eye," would he? He did.
Cycling was supposed to be the sport that
was doing more than any other major sport in finding and tossing out the
cheats. The governing body (UCI) was catching the cheaters in all the
disciplines of the sport. Olympic Champion Philip Meirhaeghe in mountain
biking, numerous road racers (Mueseeuw, Rasmussen, et. al), and even
championship riders in
Cyclocross,
a fringe sport of a fringe sport (3x world champion-DeClerq). The fact
that so many were getting caught, made it easier to believe those who
were telling the press and the fans that they were clean. I believed
them.
During his racing years, there was an interview with
Tyler Hamilton (Tour rider, teammate of Armstrong, and 60 minute
interviewee/lid blower-offer) where he talked about refusing to turn on
the air conditioner on his car trip back from a race in Spain because he
felt that it would wreak havoc on his respiratory system. The guy who
later was found putting someone else's blood into their body wouldn't
turn on the AC?! Who would have believed it?
It's easy to put
yourself into a self-imposed media blackout during the Tour. Essentially
you just have to stay away from one cable channel and you're almost
assured of not getting surprised with any results. It even a pretty safe
bet that opening a newspaper or watching ESPN won't jeopardize your
VCR/DVR efforts. You don't even run the risk of overhearing race results
at the water cooler at work, because not very many people follow the
sport. So in 2006, I had taped Stage 17 of that year's Tour. The day
before, American Floyd Landis (former teammate, sometime characterized
as a friend Armstrong) self-destructed on that day's stage and fell
eight minutes behind and seemingly all hope of winning. I got up at
about 4:30am to watch the previous day's stage, before I went to work,
without a clue as to what had happened. In a dark house, with just my
sleeping cats and hot coffee to keep me company, I watched Floyd Landis'
epic solo break away.
The day after Landis lost his yellow
jersey, he came within 30 seconds of taking it back, with just a few
days remaining in the race. I was in tears. It was astonishing and was
one of the greatest sporting exploits I've ever seen. Robbie Ventura,
Landis' coach during his 'winning Tour', who currently has a job
commenting on cycling for TV (please shut-up), had fans convinced that
the "thing that I just saw" for his rider's 'unbelievable' exploit was
due to Landis' efforts of constantly pouring ice water over his head.
Ventura stated, that by keeping his core temperature down, Landis was
able to keep his up his peak output (450 watts) for longer. Days later,
Landis was caught cheating as well. That moment in a dark house, with
tears in my eyes, was stolen. I couldn't believe it.
There are
lots of moments that have been robbed, dimmed, or tainted since the dam
opened up over the rampant cheating that occurred within cycling
throughout the 90's and early 21st century. Moments when I invested my
time, money, and spirit to watch extraordinary things on a two wheeled
machine and a chain. I still remember the wins on Sestriere, Alpe du
Huez, and Paris-Roubaix by riders who I followed, but the memories have
lost a little luster. I'm a little bitter that I gave part of my heart
to these guys. A little foolish to have stood up and cheered their
exploits. A little embarrassed to have defended them for so long. The
governing bodies have taken all the titles away and given them to the
next placed rider or in some cases pretended that no one won. The races
were run, the races were won, and during that era it is clear that most
of the riders with a Pro-Tour License (the highest Professional UCI
category) were part of a doping program. How far are you going to go
down on the list of finishers? 10th? 50th? It seems pointless.
Lance,
after steadfastly denying his cheating, while at the same time
intimidating or humiliating his accusers, went on the DOprah show to
confess and explain himself. Sorta. I can't think of another
orchestrated confessional that failed as miserably. He went from bad to
worse to hated in just a couple of hours. He told Oprah that the hardest
part of this whole process was telling his kids that everything that
they know about their father's racing success was based on cheating. I
believe him.
There are times that I still slide on my Livestrong
bracelet, but it no longer serves as a visible indicator of support for
Lance. It has come to symbolize something personal on a couple of
levels. The first, the silicone yellow band helps to remind me that I
love riding my bike. I certainly don't need a visible reminder, I've
been riding/racing for over 20 years, but after a long ride it reminds
me that I did something I love and sought the happiness and fulfillment a
bike ride can offer. When I'm wearing it, it also helps to remind me to
lay off the donuts.
The now mocked, once ubiquitous band, also
reminds me of a co-worker with who I made a personal connection with
during the 2003 Tour de France. That Tour, for me was the most exciting
in years. Lance was making all kinds of mistakes and he seemed to have
some real competition for the overall win. Bob, was the electronics
manager in the retail store that I managed, so he was usually the
closest employee to where I had camped out near the wall of TVs that,
somehow, was showing the live race coverage from France. Everyday Bob
came over, at first by obligation, so that I could explain what was
going on and how the day's race might unfold. I tried to explain the
unexplainable to the uninitiated. I'd follow Bob out to the store's
patio where he would take his smoke break and I'd would try to impart
all of my knowledge about the Tour and all of its races with the race.
Very quickly though, Bob was hooked. As the race went on, I didn't even
have to turn the TVs to the Outdoor Life Network's (now Vs.) live
coverage of the race, because Bob had already taken care of my job. He
would come in asking how Lance's competitors might make up their time
deficit. I gave Bob his first Livestrong bracelet. Bob's career
progressed and he moved on from my unit, but whenever we saw each other
we always talked about who was going to wear yellow that year.
Quite
a few years later, in July, I received an email from Bob's wife. She
introduced herself and asked if I'd give Bob a call. They had been
watching the Tour the day before while he was awaiting his latest chemo
treatment and mentioned my name. The previous month, he had gone to the
doctor for a persistent stomach ache. A little more than a year later I
was hugging his wife and shaking the hands of his three children at his
funeral. He was 51. I don't wear yellow anymore because of Lance,
that
connection only reminds me of the diminished memories of worthless
battles on a bicycle. I wear that stupid little bracelet because there is one that cannot. The yellow is theirs. Mine.
The Tour de
France was raced long before Lance Armstong clipped into his pedals at
the Grand Departe' and it will be here long after his 'wins' have been
stricken from the record. The Tour will continue and his 'heroic'
efforts a footnote in a dark era of the most grueling, beautiful,
breathtaking sporting event in the world. Despite Lance confiscating the
color yellow over his seven year run of Tour de France victories,
yellow was never really
his color.
Thanks for reading, Adieu.
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