While the doping scandal surrounding famed American cyclist Lance Armstrong won’t find a place in the local sport pages of this newspaper, it’s an interesting tale of pride, deceit, greed, and the collective willingness of many to be duped.
On that score, the rise and fall of Armstrong is not unlike what we see too often in sport and in life. Armstrong and his network of supporters had managed for years to keep the lid on what will probably turn out to be the biggest doping scandal in the history of any sport.
When all the details are finally uncovered, we’ll probably find out that Armstrong’s doping was only possible with the cooperation of many high-ranking officials within the sport and its governing body. Huge payoffs and major scandal are still in the works, if anyone is interested in following the story.
As a headline – big money corrupts a sport, its athletes, and its governing organization – the theme of Armstrong’s fall could apply to any sport that is widely followed anywhere in the world.
What is incredible about the Armstrong saga is the complicity of industry and cycling fans world-wide, and especially in North America. There has always been a core of cycling super-fans that follow the sport with the rabid attention to detail that consumes what must be, collectively, tens-of-thousands of hours online discussing and researching every aspect of their sport.
Some of those super-fans, and a handful of sports journalists, had been on to Armstrong’s now-confessed dope use from the beginning. They were largely regarded as naysayers, freaks and losers by the overwhelming majority of fans who didn’t want to face the facts.
What were the facts? One that jumps out is the statistic that of all the podium finishers with Armstrong during his seven-time victory run on the Tour de France, only one was not later implicated in a drug scandal. In a field of doped pro-cyclists, Armstrong was the best.
The cautious conclusion should have been that Armstrong was doping and had, for the most part, simply been more successful at it than the rest of the field. Instead of that uninspiring conclusion, the public and the sport industry turned Armstrong and the Livestrong brand into one of the biggest stories in sports in the last 15 years.
Technically, Armstrong cheated by doping. But where cheating is understood as doing something that gives one an unfair advantage over one’s competitors, maybe he wasn’t cheating. He didn’t make cycling what it was when he found it; he took it up and perfected it.
None of it was possible without the willingness of many to allow themselves to be deceived and to buy into the deception. Fans bought into it with cash and brand loyalty. Armstrong’s major sponsors have mostly walked away from the shipwreck, but their profits from the Armstrong era remain intact.
Who’s the sucker in all of this? The fan? The cyclist with a garage full of Armstrong-endorsed gear? Everyone that ever put on one of those yellow Livestrong bracelets thinking that they were participating in the greatest cancer success story ever?
Yes, yes and yes. Who should you blame? It’s best to include a mirror on that wall of shame.
