October 18, 2014 § 19 Comments
UCI Pro Tour team Astana launched an investigation into team doping practices after Maxim Iglinskiy tested positive for EPO during the fourth stage of the Tour of Belgium. Within forty-seven minutes of the announcement, Astana general manager Alexandre Vinokourov announced that “doping had been discovered” within the team.
“I’m very sorry to announce that doping has been discovered within Team Astana,” Vinokourov said at a press conference held at the world famous tourist resort and secret rendition destination known as Kyzylorda-sur-Waterboarding. “The dopers have confessed and been properly disposed of.”
Despite the most vigorous anti-doping program on the Pro Tour, a program that includes asking riders to report if they dope and that makes extensive use of self-graded questionnaires to root out potential drug problems, Astana has suffered a shocking number of doping positives, beginning with general manager Alexandre Vinokourov’s 2-year suspension for doping in the 2007 Tour de France.
“After getting caught for doping, I made sure that my team would have a very strict anti-doping policy,” said Vinokourov at the press conference. “People like me would no longer be welcome on the team, and after I retired it was my goal to make sure that no one like me would ever be associated with the team again.”
Vim Vandy Pants, cycling journalist and noted notary public, questioned Vinokourov regarding the team’s policy. According to Vandy Pants, “Shortly after Vino was busted, Matthias Kessler, another Astana rider, received a 2-year doping sanction. How do you explain this?” he asked at the press conference.
“Kessler was an aberration, an anomaly, a synonym for ‘one-off.’ None of his self-reported doping exams or questionnaires ever indicated drug use,” said Vinokourov.
Wham Wankypants, yet another famous cycling journalist and an even more widely noted notary public, followed up by asking Vinokourov about Eddy Mazzoleni, the former Astana rider who was banned for two years in the infamous Italian oil-for-drugs-and-old-jockstraps sting carried out by the Italian anti-doping agency, CONI-BALONEY. “You say zat no doping inna Astana, but you, Kessler, and Mazzoleni all was doping onna banana.”
“It’s true that Mazzoleni was a doper,” said Vinokourov. “But his program was very sophisticated, very clandestine, very secret. We asked him about it one night when he was very drunk, and he simply shrugged and said ‘I no doping.’ There was no way we could have known.”
Vinokourov was then asked about Andrey Kashechkin (banned for doping in the Tour of Turkey), former rider José Antonio Redondo (banned for testosterone), Vladimir Gusev (fired from team for sort-of-doping), Valentin Iglinskiy (banned for EPO), Maxim Iglinskiy (brother of Valentin, also banned for EPO), and llya Davidenok (busted for steroids and general stupidity).
Vinokourov was unapologetic. “These were isolated incidences, coincidences, outliers, random occurrences. We could never have known about such team-orchestrated doping despite our focus on self-reporting and questionnaires. However, now that we have launched a full investigation we have in fact uncovered doping. It is unacceptable and in the future we will insist that all riders on Astana refrain from doping or cheating in any way. Or else.”
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April 30, 2014 § 16 Comments
Confessed doper, drug cheat, sporting fraud, mentor to young cyclists, and really nice guy George Hincapie has released his memoir of cycling during the Lance Armstrong heyday, “Confessions of a Clean Racer.” WIth a foreword by Michele Ferrari, excerpts have already detailed explosive revelations about the depth and breadth of non-doping practices within the top echelons of the sport.
Cycling in the South Bay was able to reach Hincapie at his villa in the Hamptons for an exclusive interview.
CitSB: Your new memoir, “Confessions of a Clean Racer,” is sure to destroy a lot of long-held perceptions about the pro peloton.
GH: Well, that was the intent. It’s finally time for someone to come clean about the non-doping practices in the sport.
CitSB: Can you be more specific?
GH: Sure. There were days, and once before Lance’s first Tour win in 1999, even an entire week, in which no one doped.
CitSB: No one?
GH: Not a single rider. Not me, not Lance, not Frankie, Tyler, or even Kevin.
GH: Yes, and by the time I moved on, the team had incorporated an entire system of non-doping, strategically placed around Christmas and New Year’s. It was systematic.
CitSB: How did it go from being a one-off “clean day” to organized, methodical, and systematic non-doping?
GH: It was a process. We started off the way everyone does, thinking we could win by taking a full doping regimen. Subcutaneous EPO. Direct injections into the veins and stomach. Kotex sopped in vodka and wedged up each others’ bottoms. And then we realized that if we were really going to compete at the highest level we’d have to race clean. Not every day, certainly, and for sure not even most of the time, but every now and then we’d have to forego the transfusions, corticosteroids, test patches, even the Kotex.
CitSB: So what started as a way to level the playing field … ?
GH: … became a slippery slope that we all slipped down, especially after a couple of beers and some Vaseline. Before we knew it, we were all riding clean at certain points to be prepared for our ultimate objective, which of course was the Tour.
CitSB: When were you first approached about riding clean?
GH: Well, as a junior I’d seen clean racers, I knew they were there, but we didn’t pay attention to them. They were losers. I remember telling Eddy B when he pointed out a couple of guys with very suspicious results and a complete absence of tracks on their forearms that I’d “never stoop to racing clean.” Those were my exact words. And then as a young pro it became clear that there was a handful of riders, the very best guys, who had clean periods during the season. We had a nickname for them, the “Kleenexes.” Get it? Clean? Kleenex?
CitSB: I get it.
GH: You always kind of wondered, “What would happen if I rode clean a day or two a year? Would it supercharge me that much?” And then when Johan took over, he took me aside and was totally blunt. I remember it like it was yesterday.
CitSB: What did he say?
GH: He told me that I could either lay off the daily visits to Ferrari, the wire transfers, the funny little guy on the moto carrying EPO in his panniers, lay off that stuff once or twice a month or I could find myself a new line of work. “Postal Kleenex don’t wipe snot,” was his motto.
CitSB: What was your initial regimen?
GH: One day a month. I started with weak doses of non-doping.
CitSB: What was the effect? This what every SoCal masters racer really wants to know about racing clean.
GH: At first you couldn’t notice it. But then as you upped the dosage of non-doping, as your body got used to detoxing the pot Belge, the Actovegin, the clen, the random shit that the pharmacist mixed up in his garage and carried around in an empty whiskey bottle, you know, gradually you got stronger, until finally you couldn’t race without a clean day, sometimes even a couple of them in the middle of the race.
CitSB: So the team was actually riding clean for periods of the Tour?
GH: Oh, yeah. It was crazy stuff.
CitSB: Weren’t you afraid of getting caught?
GH: Dog, yes. One time a French TV crew followed our soigneurs after we’d had a clean session and videotaped them dumping all of the non-doping substances in a trash can behind a church. They fished out the garbage bags and it was a cornucopia of clean: kale, organic chicken bones, whole milk, banana peels. Then they showed it on prime time TV and called it “How Postal Goes Bananas on the Big Climbs.”
CitSB: You must have thought the jig was up.
GH: Dog, yes. We were terrified. Another time the UCI sent in testers immediately after we’d had a three-day regimen of non-doping. We were so scared we’d test negative that we were shooting up everything we had, hoping it would hit the bloodstream in time for the testers. Lance is the only one who came up negative, but fortunately he got Dr. Moral to backdate a prescription for rest, vegetables, water, and some bread. And Hein Verbruggen accepted the backdated scrip.
CitSB: Pretty funny, but also scary. Weren’t you worried about the health effects?
GH: Yes and no. We had docs, we trusted them. They seemed convinced that even if we were clean up to 50% of the time our bodies could recover from it with the proper administration of the right potentially lethal doping cocktails.
CitSB: When did you realize that USADA was going to bring down Lance, along with you, Levi, Jonathan, and the rest?
GH: Of course we had all gotten used to Betsy’s tirades; people had been accusing us of non-doping for years. But Lance seemed to have it on lockdown, she was portrayed as this crazy woman with a vendetta, kind of an Internet-troll-meets-National-Enquirer-meets-Joan-Rivers-at-a-Tweeker-party, right? And the media bought it. But then when Floyd admitted to non-doping and the Feds got involved, shit got real. We had to decide whether we were going to keep pretending that we’d never raced clean, or take what was a very sweet deal.
CitSB: And you took the deal.
GH: Obviously. We were all perfectly happy to finger the guy who had brought us all our success and fame if all we had to do keep our jobs and our money was admit to non-doping. I mean, Levi’s laughing all the way to the bank. So am I, by the way. Okay, not laughing. But certainly smiling.
CitSB: So where does this put you in 2014? There are a lot of people who believe that George Hincapie and people like him have no place in the sport today.
GH: I can see their point, but I look at it differently. Cycling gave me everything and I want to give something back. I’ve learned from the bad things I’ve done, I’ve admitted to having raced clean, I’ve been punished, and it’s no coincidence that I run a U-23 development team. Someone who these kids respect has to be able to tell them that times have changed, that it’s no longer acceptable to non-dope, and that when the time comes — and it will come — they’ll have to stand firm against the non-dopers. Because they’re still out there. Not as many as there once were, but it’s a part of the culture, unfortunately.
CitSB: Thanks, George.
GH: You’re welcome.
CitSB: If I mail you one of my cycling jerseys would you sign it for me?
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December 31, 2013 § 35 Comments
Now, then. You got screwed bigtime. All these tards calling you a dush because their chicken and I will tell you dude, I got your back. You know whose a dush they are a dush thats who. First, okay they found some shit in you’re blood and that sucks not because you are a doper but because everyone is doping whose a masters racers and second. Thats because their a chicken. First, okay, what did they even find. EPO and amphets and test. Now, then. That is bullshit stuff pussy stuff you and I know that. If you’d a been doping they would have got you for nandy, adam, abolic, and the way you were stacking D-bol with all the slop you could get your fists on that’s why you would have been microwavable, bro. Not some skinny shit Euro pro blood doping EPO shit.
Remember when you and me watched all those cool shoot-em-up videos. I know you are to smart to have got caught by some stuppid test, for test. (Get it its a joke ha, ha, har.)
But now, then. What chaps my ass worse than sunbathing naked is that their all chickens thats right I said chickens and you know why. Because you have the giant balls to take the hard stuff. Okay maybe your balls are shrunk to tiny now because thats what all the test does to your nuts but I’m not saying literally you have big ball. You have tiny itty bitty balls but its just a saying. Plus they are all doushes so FUCK THEM.
So anyway they can’t ever take away from you the stuff you won like a boss like when you lapped the P/1/2 field even though your 62 FUCK THOSE PUNKS. They went home and cried to their mommies and bag brides saying oh poor me some old dude whipped my ass and you know what. You whipped their ass good. Now, then. That takes balls. And in Tulsa Tough last year when you bridged to the break in the 2’s solo and dropped those pussies on Crybaby Hill they were cry babying like crybabies so FUCK THOSE PUNKS. That took huge balls. And I know yours are shrunk and tiny but its a saying. Its just a saying. PLus, did you know that Tulsa is A Slut if you spell it backwards. Jk.
Now, then, why are you a big balls badass and I’m saying their chickens. Well, then its pretty easy. They are drinking milk and water and compressing their dicks in dick compression cock socks size extra small to, and their all whining about being healthy and shit but you are going full rogue commando you had your preparations dialed in like a boss and its gonna eat your fukkin liver and turn your fukkin kidneys into rocks and your balls are gonna be squirtin nothing but water and you’ll have cancer in your your dick and in your teeth and up your ass and in your hair but you will have owned those pussies in Cat 2 and they will look at you like you are a fukkin boss which you are by the way.
Some people say its cheating and what about the children butt fuck them to. Everyones cheating. Some dudes cheating on his wife and some dudes cheating on his taxes and some dudes cheating because he gets up early and trains extra hard and some dudes cheating because he’s buying full carbon and Di2 and some dudes cheating because he was born faster and thats the ultimate cheating and plus tainted supplements. How come you didn’t say tainted supplements like Meeker? That dude went down like a boss and he spent some coin. You better go down bigger then Meeker and not just fukkin take it up the ass and not say anything.
But what I was saying is everybody is cheating so then theres not any such thing as cheating. Its not cheating if everyone is cheating just like its not doping if everyone is doping what about the dude who takes aspirin or the dude who is a drunk or the dude who takes Rogaine to grow his hair back they are all doper cheaters too they JUST DIDNT GET CAUGHT. Hair doping I have heard works when are they gonna test for Rogaine its so unfair.
Now, then. When I was at natz in Bend i was crumping a hairy beet you know the pre-race kind that weighs more than you’re leg you know a good old fashion corn-studded bowl breaker. After I dumped I looked down into the hole like I always do to compare whose got the bloody stool and who ate the corn and whose all got the runnies and whose got the big solid 2-foot man log that says “eatin like a boss and shittin like a grizzly.” So then. What did I see. I saw so much needles and leftover drugs and shit in the shitter that their all dopers so fUCK THEM.
I cant wait until your suspension is over and you can lay the wood to these pups some more its only to years and by then your going to be mid-60’s you can still take those punks in there twenties.
Rock out with your cock out.
December 22, 2013 § 19 Comments
Belgian Jonathan Breyne, victor of the 8th stage in the Tour of Haifu Lake, had his doping admissions rejected by the UCI after testing of his B sample confirmed the presence of clenbuterol. In a press release issued by his Continental team Crelan-Euphony, Breyne confessed to the use of banned substances. “I knowingly used clenbuterol as part of a doping regimen in order to improve my performance. The clenbuterol assisted with recovery after Stage 7 and, I believe, substantially contributed to my victory the following day. I take full responsibility for this and other anti-doping violations.”
UCI president Brian Cookson emphatically rejected Breyne’s claims. “Ridiculous. What, does he take us for fools? He must have eaten tainted beef like everyone else.”
The UCI plans to vigorously prosecute Breyne’s innocence. “We will take this all the way to CAS if we must,” vowed Cookson.
Breyne, however, was adamant. “I’ve always been one of those ‘promising’ lads who winds up mid-pack. My breakthrough came when I began combining effective training with steroids and ‘marginal gain’ levels of EPO. That’s how we dope nowadays.”
Doping expert Billy Nietzsche was skeptical. “Thus spake Breyne, but it’s hard to believe he’s guilty without having gone through the usual panoply of excuses. It just doesn’t sound plausible when he says he doped, especially since he made the ‘admission’ without even crying or claiming to have used tainted supplements..”
Breyne’s team manager, Pfister Pfeister, reluctantly accepted the confession. “Looky ‘ere, eez da furst dime seence I been seein’ a feller say he was onna dopin pogrom jus’ first ting outta da box, quick like a little squirt an his first hooker, eh? But maybe eez tellin’ da troof, eh? Maybe?”
Results from the WADA-accredited lab in Chateauneuf-du-Pape were defended by the lab’s director, Jean Pouilly-Fuisse von Nagasaki. “These results conclusively prove that Breyne might not have doped. There is a mathematical chance of error, say on the range of twelve hundred thousand billion to one, that the overwhelming presence of clenbuterol in his urine sample, measured as roughly equivalent to three quarts of clenbuterol per gallon of blood, that those results were the result of contaminated beef, or contaminated sushi, or accidentally licking his roommate’s tainted meat, or just, you know, it got there because, Duck Dynasty. It’s that margin of possibility of error that demands, from a scientific and ethical point of view, that the athlete dispute the results.”
Breyne’s father, Yves-Marc Fauntleroy, confirmed the details of his son’s confession. “Every since he was a child we mercilessly demanded that he succeed. We gave him every opportunity and sent him to the best doping doctors. I offered to transfuse my own blood into storage bags for him. There’s no question that he’s guilty.”
Jonathan Vaughters, team boss for Garmin-Sharp-Apologia, was skeptical. “He may have been forced to dope because of his childhood dreams. It’s doubtful that he really did dope. The UCI is doing the right thing by prosecuting his innocence.”
Levi Leipheimer agreed. “I doped, but only after the threat of prison and losing my Gran Fondo. There’s no way this kid could have doped just to win some douchebag race in China. His confession flies in the face of all the hallowed excuses that bike racers have used since, like, forever. He hasn’t even pointed out that he never tested positive until he tested positive. That’s conclusive, in my opinion. He will ultimately be exonerated once the UCI presses their appeal.”
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November 23, 2013 § 147 Comments
Lokalmotor Richard Meeker tested positive for steroids at the 2012 national masters championships and was sanctioned this week with a 2-year ban. Rich claims that he’s never intentionally doped and that the positive result came from a tainted supplement. He does this through a press release. A press release? From a 50+ masters bicycle racer?
I don’t believe him.
Can we please stop saying “shocked”
Rich’s press release says he was “shocked” to find out that he’d tested positive. I’m not sure it shocked anyone who regularly races masters cycling in SoCal, unless, like me, they were shocked that USAC finally nailed a masters racer who’s a pretty big deal. To the contrary, the positive simply confirms rumors that have swirled around Rich for a long time: that he wins races in part due to banned drugs.
The sad thing is now watching people who like Rich personally — I’m one of them — as they try to distance themselves. Folks, you don’t have to distance yourselves. He cheated, he doped, he got caught, he hired a lawyer, he fought it for fourteen months, and now he’s issued a non-apology proclaiming his innocence using one of the oldest, silliest, least credible, most embarrassing excuses possible. It’s the excuse that comes with the pre-printed “How to Dope” drugs from China, I’m sure.
“If to find doping caught violation, please to excusify on official protocol testing about mix product bad tea contamination and to a herbal remedy vanishing twin,” or something like that.
The “tainted beef” excuse, Rich, has been used by better, more famous, and more credible racers than you. Still, it’s okay to insult our intelligence. We’re bike racers after all.
What I want to know isn’t how his friends will react. I know what they will say because they’re already saying it. “Let’s wait until all the facts are out.” [Hint: they are out. He doped, got caught, and has been sanctioned.] “Those drugs don’t even make you go faster!” [Hint: they are still illegal, so you're still a doper if you use them.] “Rich would never do that.” [Hint: he did.]
What I want to hear is something from his team, “Breakaway from Cancer,” which is sponsored by Amgen, which was founded by Thom Wiesel, who has a long and sordid history of turning the company into the major player of doping in cycling in the “Armstrong Era,” as if doping in cycling was limited to some tiny sliver of time when bad ol’ Lance ruined everything.
This may come as a nasty “shock,” but until Breakaway from Cancer and its team management make a strong statement about this, they’re going to be tarred with the amateur wanker doper brush, too — and so will their entire team. That’s a shame because it’s now reflecting on guys who truly are beyond reproach, guys who, if they tested positive, I would quite literally shake my head in disbelief.
That’s the press release I want to read, the one that says, “Amgen’s Breakaway from Cancer masters cycling team condemns doping in sport. Richard Meeker’s positive test is proof that the system is being applied fairly to catch drug cheats on all levels. He will not be riding for our team in 2014, when his ban ends.” And then, in furtherance of the clean sport that Rich talks about in his press release, I’d like to see the test results he claims he carried out, along with the name of the supplement.
Indeed, now’s the time for his team to demand the release of that data in order to protect all cyclists out there who are buying unicorn powder in the hope that it will fill in the gaping cracks left by age, inability, genetic slowness, lousy strategy, weak legs, too much beer, insufficient training, and general sloth.
Just the facts
Rich has long been one of the top masters racers in the country, and although I’ve raced with him, it’s not exactly true to say I ever raced “against” him except for a couple of times, because he was so much better that I could never follow his wheel.
Throughout 2012 he was virtually unbeatable. He won time trials, sprints, crits, road races … in one race he went off from the gun, raced in a two-up breakaway in a hard, hilly road race, got caught, then destroyed everyone in the sprint. After the race no one would have been surprised if he’d done 10,000 push-ups, dragged a 747 down a runway by his teeth, and bench pressed a small ox.
The only time I was in contention for a finish against him was at the end of 2012 in a ten-man break at a CBR race. Sitting behind him and looking at his legs was enough to make me want to quit. He looked like a professional road racer with 0% body fat combined with a track racer combined with a weight lifter combined with the Six Million Dollar Man combined with Bo Jackson.
My stolen youth, stolen by dopers
Unlike Lance, who is responsible for everything bad that ever happened to me, Rich is in a different category. You see, Lance stole my dreams. He forced me to become a lawyer. He made me fail my algebra tests and ruined my career as a pro cyclist (I would have won the Tour and the Nobel Prize in physics if he hadn’t doped).
But Rich Meeker?
He didn’t ruin shit. To the contrary, the only times I’ve ever talked with him he’s been an exceedingly kind guy. Unlike certain steroid-crazed, punch-throwing drugheads on the SoCal masters circuit, Rich is as nice as they come. It just so happens that he doped.
So? Our ranks are quietly filling with ex-pros who’ve been sanctioned for drugs, not to mention ex-pros who raced higher than kites and never got busted.
If you race masters in SoCal and you don’t understand that drugs are rampant here, you are an imbecile. Too many riders turn in unbelievable performances not to understand that the sport is rife with drugs. However, unlike pro racing, which actually matters in some weird alternative universe, masters racing is like vanity book publishing.
No one gives a flipfuck. Even if you’re the greatest masters racer in the history of Planet Earth, YOU’RE STILL A FUCKING MASTERS BIKE RACER. In other words, you are over the hill at best, one foot in the grave at worst.
It was a pretty good year
Rich is a national masters champion whose USA Cycling results for 2012 make you want to burn your bicycle and your racing license. National crit champion, national road silver medalist, SoCal Cup 1st, Ladera Ranch 1st, Paramount Crit 1st, Manhattan Beach GP 1st, Rosena Ranch 1st, Jail Circuit Race 1st, District road champion, Barry Wolfe GP 1st, Arco Crit 1st, Dana Point GP 1st, Avenue of the Flags 1st, Redlands 1st, Ontario Series 1st … you get the picture. If you were racing 45+ in 2012, you were racing for second.
This is different from catching some 65-year-old wanker in a Florida time trial who placed fifth out of five entrants. SoCal masters racing is a national benchmark, and the guys who sit atop the leaderboards here are the best of the best when it comes to elderly, delusional wankers whose lives revolve around bicycle racing.
Rich insists that he took a tainted supplement, but he has refused to name the supplement. He’s long been one of the top masters racers in SoCal, and it’s possible he’s telling the truth, just like it’s possible that Tyler had a vanishing twin, that Alexi drank tainted herbal tea, or that every other tawdry and poorly conceived and cheap-ass lie coughed up by every drug cheat ever was true.
Whether he is or isn’t, though, it doesn’t affect me much, because I’ve been beaten by guys on drugs and I’ve been beaten by guys who are clean as a whistle. My enjoyment of the sport has a little to do with how I place and a lot to do with the friends I make and the experiences I have.
At the professional level, where careers and sponsor dollars and prestigious victories are at stake, it makes a big difference whether people dope. At the masters level, it’s more sad than it is outrageous, although if I were a sponsor of an amateur bike team, pumping money into bikes, clothes, entry fees, and clean supplements, I’d be flat fucking livid. There are a lot of businesses out there who sponsor small time masters racing because they like bicycling, not because they’re expecting a big payday.
Life, and cycling, have a lot more to offer if you take them head on and accept your race results for what they are: nothing more than how you did on a certain day in a certain race against certain people.
My guess is that when Rich’s ban is over, he’ll be the same affable guy he’s always been, and he’ll still be kicking my ass, supplements or not. I just hope he drops the facade and takes his beating like a man. Silly as we are, even bike racers don’t believe what’s written in a press release.
September 15, 2013 § 22 Comments
Copied and pasted this awesome interview from Gazetta dello Sport (with the help of Google translate).
Interviewer: How does it feel to be the oldest ever winner of a Grand Tour?
Chris Horner: Old. Very old.
Int: Many say you achieved it through doping.
CH: Fuck them. People want to know what I was on? I was on my bike.
Int: You must admit that age 57 is quite old to be dominating athletes in their 20’s and 30’s in the prime of life.
CH: Yeah, it is. (Chuckles).
Int: And you must admit that having spent the majority of your career during the “Golden Era” of blood manipulation makes your victory more than a little suspect.
CH: Yep. Sure does. But you know what?
CH: I’ve never tested positive. And I’m the second most-tested athlete in the history of sport.
Int: You raced alongside Lance Drugstrong while the team was being run by “Chuckles” Bruyneel, who is now being investigated by the Belgian Cycling Federation for violating the first rule in the charter of that nation’s cycling bylaws.
CH: What rule is that?
Int: Don’t get caught.
Int: So what do you have to say about the estimated VAM of 2034 and a power-to-weight ratio of 6.83 watts/kg on the climb to the finish at Peña Cabarga?
CH: What’s a VAM?
Int: It stands for “Vaglia Antimorto Muscatini.” In English, it means “Analysis of power and output vectors normalized by the number of completely doped and dropped Italians and Spaniards.”
CH: Never heard of it.
Int: Your power-to-weight ratio at at Peña Cabarga and on the Angliru was roughly equivalent to that of a 2-stroke motorcycle. How is that possible?
CH: Training and proper diet.
Int: But you are famous for eating McDonalds …
CH: Like I said.
Int: Given your age, your close affiliation with Drugstrong, and your dominance in a clearly juiced field, how can the fans have any confidence in this outcome?
CH: The fans are people. And people are stupid.
Int: But you can’t expect to fool them forever, can you?
CH: I don’t have to. There’s an entire industry of cycling publications that are standing in line to trumpet my success. They could give a shit about my drug usage as long as I sell copy and pimp product.
Int: The “fanboys with typewriters”?
CH: No. They use Word now.
Int: This makes you only the third American, behind LeMond and Hampsten, to win a Grand Tour. How does that feel?
CH: Uh, aren’t you forgetting someone?
CH: Lance. Lance won the Tour seven times.
Int: All of those wins were stripped by the World Anti Doping Agency Hypocrisy Council.
CH: Look, Lance won those Tours. He might have been juiced to the gills, but it was an even playing field. Like Hitler.
Int: Excuse me?
CH: Hitler killed millions. But so did Stalin. And Pol Pot. And Idi Amin. See? It was a level playing field. Their records stand.
Int: The next-oldest winner of any Grand Tour was 36, and the oldest victor of the Vuelta was Tony Rominger at 33, during the “anything goes” days of unlimited EPO. You’re almost 300 years older than Tony. How do you explain it?
CH: What is there to explain? I’ve never tested positive.
Int: On today’s stage up the Angliru you were formidable and repelled each of the attacks by Nibali, who won the Giro on more drugs than a horse farm. How do you explain it?
CH: Two words. Marginal gains and volcano doping.
Int: That’s four words.
CH: What do you assholes want? Extreme athletic performances or parking lot crits? Throw me into a 21-day concentration camp with climbs that make the Dolomites look like a pasture and I’m gonna do what it takes to win. Throw me into a CBR crit and …
CH: (Grins) I’m STILL gonna do what it takes to win.
July 23, 2013 § 55 Comments
Does anyone know Lance’s cell phone? ‘Cause we need him bad.
This Wiggins-Froome thing has gotten totally out of hand. One day we were watching a doped up superman who boinked models and actresses and rock stars, who owned ranches and mansions and private jets, who was devilishly good looking, whose ego was bigger than Dallas and twice as gnarly, who ground people up into hamburger meat on and off the bike, who beat cancer, cured cancer, sued enemies into oblivion, had an entourage of global financiers, Italian dope doctors, starlets, drug mules, presidents and scientists and who, with only one nut still had bigger balls than the entire pro peloton, and then, BAM!
We were watching Chris fucking Froome, a human insect who can’t even pedal properly, a craven little wussmeister whose doping program is “marginal gains” instead of “ram the whole 12,000 cc up my ass,” an awkward, unappetizing robot who confirms what every motorist instinctively knows: Cyclists are contemptible arthropods deserving nothing so much as the heel of a boot.
Sure, I used to bag on Dopestrong…until I saw the last two years of Dopeweak. What happened to the drug-crazed cannibals of yore, handsome, muttonchopped, steel-willed manly men who ate raw meat with their fists and swallowed their cocaine-heroin-strychnine cocktails in one-pint tumblers? How could we have banished the lying, cheating, brash and big-balled Texan who rode a chrome Harley, threw massive charity balls, charged 100k to jocksniffing millionaires for a group ride appearance, won triathlons, raced marathons, conquered Leadville, and ruled the entire UCI with the iron grip of a drug kingpin, which he was, and traded him in for the sniveling, milquetoast, dainty British softmen who drink tea, slurp warm beer, and race like simpering weenies or, what’s infinitely worse, like British people?
Where is the wrath, the insane bloodlust fueled by too many drugs in the wrong combination, the tortured beastly exhibitions of athletic porn, the Texas gunslinger who rode over the bones of his challengers and fell as mightily as he rose, in full color on a giant screen surrounded by a frothing media scrum and presided over by the queen of daytime TV? I’ll tell you where: He’s been replaced by “champions” who are no cleaner but a thousand times less entertaining to watch, the insect class, the automaton class, the zombies of the road.
Please, if you have his number, call Lance for me and beg him to either come back or to give these pasty-faced cab drivers a few lessons in how to race like the future of the galaxy depended on it. I’ll take les forcats de la route over the zombies of the road any day.