Because You Never Asked

(3/06. This essay is a companion to the next one entitled “Steroids and Barry”.)

     For the last ¼ century or so, success through chemistry has become a way of life in big time sport. Such practices probably got their start in the myriad of Olympic style sports where extreme specialization of task puts a heavier emphasis on physical conditioning over sheer athletic talent. If all you have to do is run; if all you have to do is jump; if all you have to do is swim; if all you have to do is row; if all you have to do is lift, throw or hurl; if all you have to do are these narrow physical tasks, that 5% edge gotten from the scientific application of laboratory shenanigans, can easily send an also ran to the podium of national anthems and teary-eyed shoe deals. Perhaps the earliest known manifestation of all this appeared with the East German female swimmers of the 1980’s.

     Certainly, one of the sports that most lends itself to chemical enhancement is the masochistic torture known as cycling. Have you ever watched one of those stages in the Alps where they all seem to be pedaling their chemically emaciated heinies off … as if they were inching along against a typhoon wind? Wouldn’t you rather be at the dentist? Could this be someone’s idea of fun? They’d probably never touch a pedal again if someone got them into a good game of pinochle.

     Nowadays, you can’t say cycling without saying Lance Armstrong, the American who has sent the cycling world into an epileptic froth of rage by winning the sport’s biggest prize, the Tour de France, an unprecedented 7 times. What makes this so traumatic for the “cycling world” is that America is not part of the “cycling world”. The only reason anyone in the United States has ever heard of The Tour is because of Lance, and now that he’s gone, nobody will give a rusty bicycle chain for it again. It’s as if you’ve been dating the hottest chic in town for months and still haven’t scored, when you see her giving tongue to the new kid … and he’s got his hand up her dress!

     If you don’t think cycling is a sport permeated with steroids, you probably think we’ll find those WMD’s soon. Being a cyclist these days is primarily an exercise in not getting caught. The “cycling world”, after continually being bitch slapped by Armstrong’s triumphs, has tried everything and more to catch him.

     There are a number of things about Lance Armstrong that get up my craw. By now we all know of his recovery from cancer, a nice story that has been used like a big bass drum to market him. His ability to retake his life’s destiny after contracting such a dreaded disease is inspirational for others suffering its effects. But Lance Armstrong hasn’t been sick for a long time. He has never competed with any physical handicap. He is a totally healthy human being. I don’t consider him any more “courageous” because he had cancer. If you had cancer, wouldn’t you try to get better?

     If you want to see an athlete who has truly overcome a physical handicap, my MVP is Jim Abbott. Abbott pitched successfully in the Major Leagues without one hand! The percentage of human beings that arrive to this level of competition in any major sport is bordering on zero. One can only marvel at the tenacity of a man without a hand competing on the same level Joe DiMaggio did.

     But the steroid controversy still dogs Armstrong, in spite of his lily pure image. I suppose this is unfair, but it doesn’t offend me. When we first started to learn about Lance Armstrong, his story was always shared by a loving wife and children, who had stood by him in his darkest moments. I saw innumerable blurbs about him immersed in this loving-family-man mode. But once Lance Armstrong became LANCE ARMSTONG, the devoted “stand by your man” family was quickly traded in for mega-star singer Sheryl Crowe. Far be it for this writer to criticize the romantic twists and turns of another man’s life, but there is the smell of sour milk here.

     I only bring this up in trying to decide the did he or did he not steroid question. I don’t consider Armstrong a bad dude, but he is definitely not the heroic angel we’ve been led to believe (who is?). I’ve always felt he used chemical help in his march towards cycling immortality. I say this less for his character and more because the whole damn sport is permeated with “junk”. It would seem almost impossible to have done what he’s done against a “doped” field without similar help. In some sort of perverse way, this extensive use of steroids in cycling keeps his athletic accomplishments intact. But the little I know of his private life leads me to believe that he is capable of lying about it.