Lanced: The Shaming of Lance Armstrong by David Walsh, Paul Kimmage, John Follain, Alex Butler
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Essay/s, Cycling, Essays & Correspondence, Sports & Outdoors, Individual Sports
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care. Far more important is the hope that the race can one day regain its credibility. Imagine going to the Tour de France certain in the knowledge that every rider started on the same line, that drugs were the preserve of the sick and that morality and ethics mattered as much to the contestants as the rewards of victory.
Too much to hope for? Maybe. But that should not deter those with the power to effect change.
Armstrong the iron ruler
David Walsh
July 25, 2004
"
The route has been shortened, the road surface smoothened, and, happily, the challenge can no longer be described as inhuman. Sadly, the inhumanity is now expressed a different way
"
From the moment he descended a ramp in Liege 22 days ago, you could tell Lance Armstrong was close to his best form. Three weeks of racing have proved that; his superiority in this Tour has been extraordinary. The sixth consecutive victory has come with an efficiency that has been flamboyant at times, brutal at other times.
The achievement is remarkable; the story behind it is even more so.
Armstrong is mulling over whether to come back and try to win the race for a seventh time or whether to pursue a different schedule next year. Behind the American's reticence is his concern for the four past champions who had to settle for a mere five Tour victories. To win seven or eight times would be to belittle the feats of those who have gone before.
The lack of enthusiasm for a return to next year's race may also be connected to the mixed reaction Armstrong and his US Postal team have received over the past three weeks. For all those who come to cheer the champion, there are plenty who express their reservations. That was apparent on Wednesday's spectacular stage to Alpe d'Huez when a seam of hostility ran right through the afternoon. It was directed primarily at Armstrong and his team.
There are many reasons the French have never warmed to his character. With his Texas hardness, Armstrong doesn't possess the subtler qualities the French expect in a great champion. Neither does he have the joie de vivre they loved in Greg LeMond. But the ambivalent response tells as much about the fans' attitude to the Tour as about its most decorated champion.
Three years ago this change in mood was detected by the French philosopher and writer Robert Redeker. At the end of the 2001 Tour, he wrote of a growing lack of empathy between the fans and those they come to support: "A huge gulf now exists between the race and the racers, who have become virtual figures, transformed into PlayStation characters while the public, the ones at the folding tables and the tents, drinking pastis and fresh rose du pays, are still real. The type of man once promoted by the race, the people's man, born of hard toil, hardened to suffering and adept at surpassing himself, has been substituted by Robocop on wheels."
What do we see on the murderous Alpine slopes? The finest athletes of the early 21st century or scientifically created wonders? Robocops on wheels? The difficulty lies in not knowing. A strange editorial appeared in L'Equipe last Wednesday. Although the newspaper is owned by the same company that owns the Tour de France, and generally promotes the race, it argued that today's riders could not expect us to believe they were clean.
What to make of Friday's contretemps between Armstrong and Filippo Simeoni? Simeoni is a lowly ranked rider, and when he surged in pursuit of six breakaways soon after the start at Annemasse, his little act of daring should have passed unnoticed. The Italian was no threat.
But Armstrong took it upon himself to chase Simeoni. This was unusual because the wearer of the maillot jaune does not leave the shelter of the peloton to follow a modest equipier. It would be akin to Roger Federer doubling up as a ball-boy at Wimbledon or Tiger Woods carrying his own clubs. Armstrong's motivation was personal: he and Simeoni are enemies, and the American was not prepared to allow his
Too much to hope for? Maybe. But that should not deter those with the power to effect change.
Armstrong the iron ruler
David Walsh
July 25, 2004
"
The route has been shortened, the road surface smoothened, and, happily, the challenge can no longer be described as inhuman. Sadly, the inhumanity is now expressed a different way
"
From the moment he descended a ramp in Liege 22 days ago, you could tell Lance Armstrong was close to his best form. Three weeks of racing have proved that; his superiority in this Tour has been extraordinary. The sixth consecutive victory has come with an efficiency that has been flamboyant at times, brutal at other times.
The achievement is remarkable; the story behind it is even more so.
Armstrong is mulling over whether to come back and try to win the race for a seventh time or whether to pursue a different schedule next year. Behind the American's reticence is his concern for the four past champions who had to settle for a mere five Tour victories. To win seven or eight times would be to belittle the feats of those who have gone before.
The lack of enthusiasm for a return to next year's race may also be connected to the mixed reaction Armstrong and his US Postal team have received over the past three weeks. For all those who come to cheer the champion, there are plenty who express their reservations. That was apparent on Wednesday's spectacular stage to Alpe d'Huez when a seam of hostility ran right through the afternoon. It was directed primarily at Armstrong and his team.
There are many reasons the French have never warmed to his character. With his Texas hardness, Armstrong doesn't possess the subtler qualities the French expect in a great champion. Neither does he have the joie de vivre they loved in Greg LeMond. But the ambivalent response tells as much about the fans' attitude to the Tour as about its most decorated champion.
Three years ago this change in mood was detected by the French philosopher and writer Robert Redeker. At the end of the 2001 Tour, he wrote of a growing lack of empathy between the fans and those they come to support: "A huge gulf now exists between the race and the racers, who have become virtual figures, transformed into PlayStation characters while the public, the ones at the folding tables and the tents, drinking pastis and fresh rose du pays, are still real. The type of man once promoted by the race, the people's man, born of hard toil, hardened to suffering and adept at surpassing himself, has been substituted by Robocop on wheels."
What do we see on the murderous Alpine slopes? The finest athletes of the early 21st century or scientifically created wonders? Robocops on wheels? The difficulty lies in not knowing. A strange editorial appeared in L'Equipe last Wednesday. Although the newspaper is owned by the same company that owns the Tour de France, and generally promotes the race, it argued that today's riders could not expect us to believe they were clean.
What to make of Friday's contretemps between Armstrong and Filippo Simeoni? Simeoni is a lowly ranked rider, and when he surged in pursuit of six breakaways soon after the start at Annemasse, his little act of daring should have passed unnoticed. The Italian was no threat.
But Armstrong took it upon himself to chase Simeoni. This was unusual because the wearer of the maillot jaune does not leave the shelter of the peloton to follow a modest equipier. It would be akin to Roger Federer doubling up as a ball-boy at Wimbledon or Tiger Woods carrying his own clubs. Armstrong's motivation was personal: he and Simeoni are enemies, and the American was not prepared to allow his
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