Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Floyd, why hast thou forsaken me?

Or, Floyd Landis is the biggest douche in the history of ever.

Alright, I’m gonna out my self now. I’m a cycling fan. A HUGE cycling fan.
Go ahead, tell me how boring it is to watch skinny guys with shaved legs pedal bicycles for hours on end. Tell me how the only thing gheyer than a lycra bodysuit is tying your Wham! tour shirt into a knot, and trolling up and down Cedar Springs with cutoffs that show your ass cheeks holding a sign that reads Free Rectal Exams. I don’t care. To me, nothing’s cooler than watching 100+ cyclists flying down the road at 45mph like a well orchestrated symphony of muscle and titanium. Nothing can make my sports pants go crazier than watching Lance drop the hammer on Alpe d’Huez and giving Jan a little look to say, “You coming, or what?” Or watching a long, drawn out flat stage for an hour to see Stewie O’Grady and Thor Hushovd dig deeper than should be humanly possible, and sprint it out to the finish line. Many a summer day, you’ll find me waking early to tune in to early broadcast of that day’s Tour stage, sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting for the attack.

That being said, cycling is, by far, the dirtiest sport in the world. Has been for years. The worst offender being our own Floyd Landis. Okay, maybe not the worst, but definitely the most visible. I mean, this guy is responsible for one of the greatest rides in the long history of the Tour. What he did on stage 17 of last year’s tour, trumps anything Lance ever did. He was buried. Done. And he dropped the entire field. Not on the summit of the last climb, but damn near ¾ of the stage. After I heard the news that he’d failed the test, I couldn’t believe it. How would testosterone help someone do what he did, that day? I was floored. This was obviously the work of the jealous French, right? They couldn’t stand seeing a filthy American win their precious race for an eighth straight year.

Well, not so fast my friends. Looks like our favorite mennonite might be guilty after all. And who is responsible for this 180 on my part? Greg freaking Lemond. Now, don’t get me wrong, Greg’s the guy who got me into the Tour way back when. I would always look forward to the Sunday Tour telecast so I could see what 7-11 or Motorola were up to. But he’s really been getting under everyone’s skin accusing Lance of doping, and it’s really getting old. It’s almost like he’s been jealous of Lance stealing his thunder or something and is just trying to tarnish his victories.

Back on topic, though. Turns out Greg called Floyd when all this came down, telling him to admit he doped, and all would be well. He’d get a two year suspension, but the sport would be better for it. But Floyd wouldn’t do that. Not because he was adamantly denying anything, but because he didn’t want to hurt his reputation, and those of the people around him. So Greg confided in Floyd something he hadn’t told more than five people his entire life. He told him he had been sexually abused by an uncle as a child. This should have compelled Floyd to tell the truth, right? Or at least appreciate that one of his peers poured his heart out, and realize he should treat that person with respect. Not Floyd, though. The night before Greg is to testify in Floyd’s hearing, he gets a call from an unknown number. The caller on the other end says, “Greg, it’s your uncle. Don’t testify tomorrow, or I’ll tell people how we used to ‘hide the weiner’.” Turns out this was Floyd’s business manager!

Now, I doubt Floyd told this guy to call Lemond and say this, but he at least betrayed Greg’s trust by sharing this information, and he didn’t make much of an effort to stop the guy. So Greg, in a hella ballsy move, got on stand the next day and told exactly what had happened! Floyd’s big defense had been his character thus far. Now? Not so much. This is probably one of the most despicable, soap opera-ish moves in the history of sport. Clearly the act of a desperate man. I don’t care if it turns out the French lab DID screw the samples up, he’s guilty in my mind. Really sickening.

So now, we’re not only stuck not knowing if last year’s Tour winner was legit, we now know that one of our heroes is the biggest douche in the history of sport. Thanks for that, Floyd!

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