30 for 30.
I'm not a Lance fan.
I started riding during his heyday. I didn't start riding because of him. I bought an ill-fitting hybrid at REI on a whim, commuted on it for a while, found I liked it, and upgraded to a steel road bike. Mostly I just rode back and forth to work and on the occasional casual ride. I watched the Tour, but not religiously. I may have been affected by the Lance bike boom, but indirectly. He was just a guy that rode bikes too, just a bit faster than me.
Another reason I started riding was that I was fat. Fat, divorced, depressed, and in a rut. I loved ski racing, but couldn't afford to do it year-round (i tried). I wanted to roll into ski season in shape, instead of subjecting my already-destroyed knees to additional stress from excess weight and insufficient muscle. Well, I got stronger, but I didn't lose weight. In fact, I gained a bit. It wasn't until I had a real reason to lose weight (my daughter), and a means to do it (bicycle racing), that I truly got my life moving in a positive direction. It wasn't because I idolized some bike racer, it was because I found a way to harness my Type-A personality to become a better person.
So, I was kinda detached from the whole Lance thing. At the time, he just struck me as wrong, but I really didn't care. Floyd Landis probably had a bigger impact on me, because I was following professional road racing at this time of his '06 Tour positive. I watched Floyd's Stage 17 breakaway and knew, right then, that it wasn't real. Sure, I knew riders doped, but I still had the capacity to suspend disbelief for certain riders. Floyd cured me of that.
Doping has always been and still is part of the game in professional (and amateur) cycling. Some people, not so very different from me, are willing to do anything to win or at least feel like they're competitive at a given level. Having spend more money than I care to admit on bikes and wheels and kit to add minuscule amounts of speed, I can somewhat understand the mindset. My threshold for what I'm willing to do to win is just different than theirs. The risk-reward calculation just doesn't add up for me. If I were that elite-level kid given the choice between doping or abandoning my life's passion, I'm not 100% sure what decision I would have made. That was/is the culture. Don't like it? Get out. The Masters doper makes less sense to me, but every year I lose a little more capability and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't drag me down a bit mentally. Doping still doesn't add up for me, but I can see where some might think it does. Let me get this straight- that doesn't make it ok at any level, but I can understand the mindset.
Lance was a talented cyclist. Probably not a Grand Tour winning cyclist without doping, but he had potential in one-day races. In a turbocharged peloton, he was the best doper. He had the best doctor, the best system of enablers, and the single-minded determination to win. The playing field was never level. He was the apex of the doping culture in cycling, a perfect storm of will and pharmaceuticals.
If doping was Lance's only sin, I don't think I'd care if he returned to professional cycling in some capacity. Tons of known/convicted dopers are still involved in the sport at all levels. It's simply impractical to root them all out, given the structure of cycling. Even if you did, I don't think you'd change much. Dopers are going to dope.
No, I don't like Lance because he's a giant douche. He destroyed those who questioned his lies. He hid behind and profited from his cancer organizations. He's basically a horrible person that is trying to rehab his image, or at least shore up his support among those that still believe in him. The latest ESPN 30 for 30 is just part of the larger campaign. No matter who is telling the story, Lance will always try to control the narrative- by any means necessary.
The scene from this two-part series that sticks in my head is where he gives a speech to his son's college football team. First time he's ever met the coach or been around the team, and the cameras just happen to be there to record it. He doesn't know his own son's jersey number. Not the first time I felt sorry for his kids. Lance trying to control the narrative for personal gain.
I want him to go away. He's toxic. Just fade from everyone's memory so the redneck rolling coal as he passes me will call me a homo or whatever else he thinks will hurt my feelings instead of "Lance". Lance is a bigger insult than anything he could possibly think of. I don't want to hear about the "Lance Armstrong Era" or whatever. I don't want to hear his name at all. I want to be able to enjoy my niche, euro-centric sport without being associated in any way with him.
Ain't gonna happen. He'll keep up his low-level podcast campaign. A few years from now NBC or someone else will put him on camera. Maybe another documentary will be made to further the rehabilitation narrative. He'll keep his name out there. He doesn't need the money. He's not broke. He invested a bunch of his fraudulently-obtained money in Uber (among others) and made out like a bandit. The court cases haven't put him in sad financial straights. He's not pedaling pot and CBD like Floyd or crafting training plans for MAMILs like Tyler Hamilton. He could step away from it all and live very comfortably in obscurity, but his ego won't let him. He's still the win-at-any-costs douchebag he's always been. Nope, we're stuck with him.
Doesn't mean I have to like him.
I started riding during his heyday. I didn't start riding because of him. I bought an ill-fitting hybrid at REI on a whim, commuted on it for a while, found I liked it, and upgraded to a steel road bike. Mostly I just rode back and forth to work and on the occasional casual ride. I watched the Tour, but not religiously. I may have been affected by the Lance bike boom, but indirectly. He was just a guy that rode bikes too, just a bit faster than me.
Another reason I started riding was that I was fat. Fat, divorced, depressed, and in a rut. I loved ski racing, but couldn't afford to do it year-round (i tried). I wanted to roll into ski season in shape, instead of subjecting my already-destroyed knees to additional stress from excess weight and insufficient muscle. Well, I got stronger, but I didn't lose weight. In fact, I gained a bit. It wasn't until I had a real reason to lose weight (my daughter), and a means to do it (bicycle racing), that I truly got my life moving in a positive direction. It wasn't because I idolized some bike racer, it was because I found a way to harness my Type-A personality to become a better person.
So, I was kinda detached from the whole Lance thing. At the time, he just struck me as wrong, but I really didn't care. Floyd Landis probably had a bigger impact on me, because I was following professional road racing at this time of his '06 Tour positive. I watched Floyd's Stage 17 breakaway and knew, right then, that it wasn't real. Sure, I knew riders doped, but I still had the capacity to suspend disbelief for certain riders. Floyd cured me of that.
Doping has always been and still is part of the game in professional (and amateur) cycling. Some people, not so very different from me, are willing to do anything to win or at least feel like they're competitive at a given level. Having spend more money than I care to admit on bikes and wheels and kit to add minuscule amounts of speed, I can somewhat understand the mindset. My threshold for what I'm willing to do to win is just different than theirs. The risk-reward calculation just doesn't add up for me. If I were that elite-level kid given the choice between doping or abandoning my life's passion, I'm not 100% sure what decision I would have made. That was/is the culture. Don't like it? Get out. The Masters doper makes less sense to me, but every year I lose a little more capability and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't drag me down a bit mentally. Doping still doesn't add up for me, but I can see where some might think it does. Let me get this straight- that doesn't make it ok at any level, but I can understand the mindset.
Lance was a talented cyclist. Probably not a Grand Tour winning cyclist without doping, but he had potential in one-day races. In a turbocharged peloton, he was the best doper. He had the best doctor, the best system of enablers, and the single-minded determination to win. The playing field was never level. He was the apex of the doping culture in cycling, a perfect storm of will and pharmaceuticals.
If doping was Lance's only sin, I don't think I'd care if he returned to professional cycling in some capacity. Tons of known/convicted dopers are still involved in the sport at all levels. It's simply impractical to root them all out, given the structure of cycling. Even if you did, I don't think you'd change much. Dopers are going to dope.
No, I don't like Lance because he's a giant douche. He destroyed those who questioned his lies. He hid behind and profited from his cancer organizations. He's basically a horrible person that is trying to rehab his image, or at least shore up his support among those that still believe in him. The latest ESPN 30 for 30 is just part of the larger campaign. No matter who is telling the story, Lance will always try to control the narrative- by any means necessary.
The scene from this two-part series that sticks in my head is where he gives a speech to his son's college football team. First time he's ever met the coach or been around the team, and the cameras just happen to be there to record it. He doesn't know his own son's jersey number. Not the first time I felt sorry for his kids. Lance trying to control the narrative for personal gain.
I want him to go away. He's toxic. Just fade from everyone's memory so the redneck rolling coal as he passes me will call me a homo or whatever else he thinks will hurt my feelings instead of "Lance". Lance is a bigger insult than anything he could possibly think of. I don't want to hear about the "Lance Armstrong Era" or whatever. I don't want to hear his name at all. I want to be able to enjoy my niche, euro-centric sport without being associated in any way with him.
Ain't gonna happen. He'll keep up his low-level podcast campaign. A few years from now NBC or someone else will put him on camera. Maybe another documentary will be made to further the rehabilitation narrative. He'll keep his name out there. He doesn't need the money. He's not broke. He invested a bunch of his fraudulently-obtained money in Uber (among others) and made out like a bandit. The court cases haven't put him in sad financial straights. He's not pedaling pot and CBD like Floyd or crafting training plans for MAMILs like Tyler Hamilton. He could step away from it all and live very comfortably in obscurity, but his ego won't let him. He's still the win-at-any-costs douchebag he's always been. Nope, we're stuck with him.
Doesn't mean I have to like him.
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