hope there's no dope

I know that I'm not adding anything new to the blog-o-sphere as the accomplishments of Lance Armstrong have to be up there among the most blogged about topics of the month, but there's something spectactular about this man unrivaled by any other sports story that comes to mind. Remember that before his battle with cancer he wasn't "the man"; that title (then referring to "the man" who would replace Greg LeMond as America's cycling hero) belonged to one Tyler Hamilton. Remember him? He's still around (although he's presently suspended for failing a somewhat suspicious blood test), but there's no reason to expect that he'll emerge to live up to the hype that was surrounding him some 10 years ago -- especially given the presence of the the younger, stronger, faster Floyd Landis (who, for some reason, has taken it upon himself to burn every bridge he could with LA and the U.S. cycling establishment; the fact that he has the cojones to wonder aloud in a press conference why Armstrong and the other components of the discovery team might be upset with him is amazing; Roberto Heras was able to leave and not insult the team that remained; maybe Landis should have taken a cue from him).

The man with a distinctively American vindictive streak (remember when he did everything but flip off Ulrich in '01 on Alpe d'Huez when he shot him "the look" as he blew past; or in '04 when he chased down Simeoni -- the man who had started the rumor involving Dr. Ferrari, Lance, and doping -- only to tell the other members of the breakaway that unless Simeoni dropped back, he (LA) would have to stick around and steal the stage win?) appears to even take out his vengance on his own body; when it tries to defy him, you can quite literally watch him bully it back into submission. Truly amazing. Some consider this iron will a character flaw which led to the divorce of his wife and estrangement from his children; this may well be, but without it, he'd be no one; indeed, he may not even be here.

It seems fitting that the man cancer should have killed (and probably would have had he been an ordinary man) would be the one to whom the mantle of American cycling brillance would be passed. After all, the man who had held it before him was also once on death's doorstep when -- at the height of his career -- he was shot in the belly with a shotgun and nearly killed. Although LeMond has gotten somewhat crotchety in his old age -- as recent public clashes with Armstrong demonstrate -- it's hard to disagree with his personal assessment of his racing career: "Of course you can't rewrite racing history", he said, "but [had I not been crushed by the weight of Bernard Hinault in 1985 and missed the '87 and '88 Tours,] I'm confident that I would have won five Tours." Neither of these men should have lived to win more than one Tour; neither of these men permitted their respective bodies quit on them -- facing death or the Alps; neither of these men were capable of seeing past the next maillot jaune at great personal expense. It is this singularly-purposed will which is apparently required to achieve excellence in this sport, and they both had it. The symmetry is so perfect and so surreal (like Nicklaus' putt at the '86 Masters or Jordan's "final" shot against the Jazz in the NBA Finals or the '04 Red Sox coming back from 0-3 in the ALCS against the Yankees) that it would be crushing for the psyche of the American sports fan if it was ever tarnished by, say, a positive test. LA is one of those rare sports figures that I admire, but don't respect (he has driven his personal life too far into the ground for that anymore); nevertheless, I hope he's not doping. I just hope to God he's not doping.