Cycling

January 05, 2009

The Further Adventures of Lance Armstrong

When he finally gets off his bike (again), does Armstrong see a future in politics? Looks like it. Interviewed by the Daily Beast he puts it like this:

If you feel like you can do the job better than people who are doing it now, and you can really make a difference, then that’s a real calling to serve, and I think you have to do that. I felt a strong desire to come back and race right now because I felt we had a place and I could have a real impact and that’s why I’m doing it. I don’t think you want to enter political life unless you really think you can really have an impact. Don’t do it for a bet, or a dare or for your ego. Or for any other competitive desire you have. Do it because you can get in there and change people’s lives. That’s why you do it. So, there will come a time, or not, that I say to myself, “You know what, I can help affect change.” And if that day comes, then absolutely.

Here's a rather miserable confession: one of my fears for 2009 is that Armstrong's return to the peloton will be successful. Doubtless that makes me a heel. Sure, one admires his fund-raising for cancer research, but I'm less impressed than some by Armstrong the cyclist. As I've written before, the great failure in his career was to never even attempt the Giro d'Italia-Tour de France double.

Guess what? This year he's riding the Giro! Yikes! If he wins, I'm going to have to reconsider and, most probably recant, some of my Armstrong-scepticism and, however grudgingly, admit that he probably is one of the three greatest bike riders of all time. So to keep my prejudices intact, Alberto Contador needs to take a grip on Team Astana and make it clear that he's the boss these days...

September 19, 2008

Lance Armstrong: A Sceptic Writes...

More Culture11: I've a piece arguing that no-one should be terribly happy about Lance Armstrong's decision to come out of retirement next season. Snippet:

Unlike fans in other sports, such as baseball or track and field, many cycling fans simply don't see doping as a criminal or ethical offense. In its way, then, cycling is the purest distillation of the logic behind elite sport: Super-human performance demands supra-human resources. It is the cost of doing business.

We might more profitably ask why our attitudes to drug-use have changed. Everyone has known for decades that the peloton has been a pharmacy on wheels. Until recently, this bothered few people. These days, the cycling controversies say more about society's wider drug-related hysteria than they do about the ethics and mechanics of professional cycling itself. Paradoxically, Armstrong's inability to fail a drug test exacerbates rather than alleviates this problem.

So, hate me people, I'm a Lance-sceptic. One thing I didn't mention in the piece is how Armstrong destroyed his chance of being considered the greatest cyclist of all time. Sure, he has seven Tour victories, but he never even attempted, let alone achieved, the Giro-Tour double. That remains the greatest feat any grand tour rider can aspire to achieve. Not everyone has managed it - indeed it's only been done 12 times - but all the great riders have at least ridden both races and most have won both tours, even if not always in the same year. All, that is, with the exception of Armstrong.

It's this failure  - a failure of ambition, a failure of romance and a failure to honour the past - that in my view ensures Armstrong doesn't, despite everything, rank alongside Eddy Merckx (Giro-tour doubles in 1970, 72 and 74), Fausto Coppi (the first to do it, in 1949 and 52) and Bernard Hinault (1982, 85). Heck, even Miguel Indurain won a brace of Giro titles to go alongside his five victories around the Hexagon. To fail is one thing, but to not even attempt it is quite another...

July 17, 2008

Say it Ain't So, Ricco...

The other day I was all poised to praise Riccardo Ricco, whose two stage wins in this year's Tour were thrilling pieces of cycling. I was going to suggest that if Damiano Cunego could show some better form there might be some hope that we could enjoy a modern rivalry that might offer a pale echo of the great Coppi-Bartali tussles of the past. Not so fast, my friends. Ricco has been kicked out of the tour (though, as always in cycling, the details remain less than clear) and the Saunier-Duval team has withdrawn from the race. Perplexingly, the organisers say this shows they are winning the battle against doping. Here's some of what I wrote about doping last year, most of which still stands today, I think:

Cycling fans have a complex emotional relationship with their heroes, but one should never forget the role of pity. That's not an emotion associated with many other sports. But it's an important part of the tifosi's relationship with the bike riders. One feels for their suffering. The attitude is simple: you would take drugs if you had to do what they do too. The miracle of bike racing is, pace Dr Johnson, not that it is done well but that it is done at all.

EPO changed that dynamic slightly. Cycling didn't become easy, exactly. But it did become easier as riders were able to operate at full tilt for longer and recover from their exertions more easily than had previously been the case. The road was still rough, but not quite as brutal as it had been. Suddenly you could, once you;d learnt how to do so safely, take drugs to thrive rather than just survive. The distinction may seem bogus to non-cycling fans or to moralising hacks but it is, I believe, real.

Even then I find it hard to blame the riders. They still suffer for their sins after all. And how different, really, is taking EPO to, say, having the advantage of a revolutionary bike design that gives one an advantage over the rest of the field? Neither are exactly a product of your heart or guts or ability; both are means of exploiting those qualities to the fullest.

And yet, perhaps times need to change. The range and sophistication of the chemical enhancements now available are such that the old days of cocaine and amphetamines (poor old Tommy Simpson being th e classic example here) do seem quaint and innocent by comparison. The point is not that cyclists have always sought to take drugs (we know that and are relaxed about it) but that today's drugs are too good. They risk stripping riders' of their essential humanity, transforming them into robots from some futuristic movie: Terminators on Pedals. Consequently, the risk is that the link between the fan who honours the Kings of the Road for their suffering may be weakened...

...If I have a problem with EPO it is not so much the risk to riders' health as an aesthetic objection. It makes the racing less varied and, consequently, less interesting. If the peloton can go at it hammer and tongs all day it becomes that much more difficult for a breakaway to succeed. That makes for duller racing. Equally, faster average speeds on the flat are tough on the (relatively few remaining) specialist climbers who arrive in the mountains having exerted more energy just to keep up with the pace on the flat and consequently less able to take advantage of their strengths. My suspicion is that modern drugs help non-climbers in the mountains more than they aid climbers on the flat. This too makes for more boring, more predictable racing.

I'd stand by that today, I think. And add that, in the name of better racing, I'd ban the radio ear-pieces the riders' use. That's a trivial thing when placed beside the problems of doping, of course, but it would help improve cycling too. You can have fine racing when everyone is doped and you can have good racing when no-one is; the problem comes when some people are doping and other's aren't... So, no, I don't have much of a solution either.


July 15, 2008

What's the matter with France?

Since yesterday was Bastille Day, this seems as sensible a moment as any to ask: whatever happened to France? How did a once-great nation fall so low? And, are there any grounds for hoping that France may recover from this shameful, pitiful, nadir?

I speak, of course, of cycling. No Frenchman has won the Tour de France since Bernard Hinault took his fifth yellow jersey way back in 1986. Worse still, apart from Laurent Fignon (winner in 84 and 85 himself), no Frenchman has since come even close to hauling on the Maillot Jaune in Paris. It gets worse: Fignon won the Giro d'Italia in 1989 and Laurent Jalabert took the Vuelta d'Espana in 1995  but those are the only two French triumphs in the grand tours since Hinault's final Tour win.

The collapse in French cycling has been extraordinary. At the first rest day in this year's Tour, Sandy Casar is the only Frenchman in the top 30 of the General Classification. Nor, alas, is there any obvious sign that a Frenchman will win at any point in the foreseeable future. Benoit Salmon was the last Frenchman to win the Tour's Young Rider's classification, way back in 1999. Benoit who? Precisely.

Even this litany of failure understates the French failure. True, Richard Virenque was King of the Mountains seven times in the Tour (though also, of course, a confirmed doper) and Jalabert also won it twice. But apart from Jalabert (in 1992 and 95) no Frenchman has won the points competition since Hinault also took it back in 1979.

Admittedly it's not just the French who are suffering: Lucien van Impe (1977) is the only Belgian not called Eddy Merckx to have won the Tour since the Second World War. But at least the Belgians can console themselves with the production of a number of sprinters and excellent one-day Classic riders.

So what accounts for this collapse? Part of it, I suspect, is rooted in the conservative culture of French cycling. The French were slow to react, let alone adopt, new methods and new attitudes to cycling. Some of it is also, of course, due to the increasingly international nature of professional cycling. Back in Hinault's day there weren't, Greg LeMond apart, many Americans in the peloton. These days it is chock-full of English speakers from the United States or Australia, to say nothing of the Grand Tour winners who have emerged from the former Soviet Union (Tonkov, Berzin, Vinokourov, Menchov). Add to that the resurgance in Spanish cycling and you have some form of explanation for the French failure. But even allowing for all of this, the French struggles seem tough to understand. What's gone wrong?

Thoughts on this years' Tour to follow later, but if any reader can help explain this collapse in French morale and ability, I'd be very grateful...



July 31, 2007

Whatever happened to Robert Millar?

Naturally I should have mentioned this a month ago before the Tour de France began, not now that it's finished - though thoughts on the Tour and the continued jackassery of much cycling coverage will be posted when my blood has recovered from a) boiling and b) my own EPO transfers (kidding).

Anyway, sports buffs shouldn't miss out on the best cycling book of the year. True, it's written by a friend of mine but don't hold that against Richard Moore. His In Search of Robert Millar is a terrific rendering of the rise, triumph, disappointment and eventual disappearance of Britain's most successful Grand Tour cyclist.

Like Richard and many other Britons in their 30s, Millar's exploits - shown on grainy footage by ITV and then the fledgling Channel 4 - introduced us to the Tour de France and helped ensure that we'd be hooked on cycling for good. His triumphs in his beloved Pyrenees were stirring moments indeed. When he won the King of the Mountains title in the 1984 Tour (becoming the first and thus far only Briton to be on the podium in Paris) and finished fourth overall he, remarkably, was voted the Scottish  Sporting Personality of the Year. Quite something in football-daft Caledonia.

But he was, as Richard demonstrates, always an eccentric figure within the peloton. His approach to diet, training and fitness was ahead of his time and if his team-mates and managers never quite knew what to make of the odd little Scotsman he didn't much care so long as he was left along to do his own thing.

Perhaps this cost him. He was robbed of the 1986 Vuelta by an alliance between all the Spanish teams; while injuries and a series of haphazard, incompetent teams helped disrupt some of his best years. Still, he also won the Dauphine Libere and finished second, taking the King of the Mountains title in the Giro d'Italia too. Not bad for a wee laddie from the Gorbals.

Then he disappeared. Right now it's thought he may be living in Devon, but no-one can be quite certain. Even his oldest and closest friends have no idea where he is or what he does now. Periodically rumours arise that he's had a sex change operation. What on earth happened to Millar? And why?

That's the story Richard Moore tells and he does so in fine style. As they say, if you only read one cycling book this year make this the one. It will tell you much about life on the road and inside the peloton that you might not have been aware of before. Reading it you'll appreciate it's not a wonder that more of these guys aren't crazy, it's startling that any of them aren't.

May 29, 2007

The Confessions of Justified Sinners

The New York Times's op-ed columnists receive plenty of criticism, so it's only fair to point out that they're not the only witless offenders at the Gray Lady. Their sports columnists suck too. Like Miss Dowd et al they also need the protection of TimesSelect, ensuring their warbling is only available to those few readers foolish enough to pay for the privilege of being subjected to reliably pompous, not to say priggish opinions.

George Vecsey is, I'm afraid, a serial offender. But his most recent column takes a sports hack's already hefty capacity for wounded vanity to new heights while simultaneously ignoring evidence suggesting that, contrary to what you might read in the New York Times, the end of the world is not nigh.

In other words we are talking about professional cycling.

Mr Vecsey begins his column with a lamentation:

"Sure, go ahead, enjoy the Tour de France this year. Stock up on the pate and the baguette and the vin ordinaire, either in a beautiful corner of France or in front of the television. The Tour will still be a compelling sight.

Just don't take it seriously. That's all I'm saying. Don't take the riders into your heart the way I once took the gritty Tyler Hamilton or the loopy Floyd Landis into my sentimental journalist's notebook, my common sense suspended."

Verily, only a toughhearted citizen would not weep with Mr Vecsey as he struggles to survive this grievous wound to his pride and dignity. (Also: what is it with NYT writers and France? Is it actually compulsory to talk about lunch and baguettes and "vin ordinaire"? Apparently, yes.)

The context for Mr Vecsey's self-pity is Bjarn Riis' admission that he took EPO en route to winning the 1996 Tour de France. Mon dieu, quelle horreur! His column is wittily headlined: "A sport  can no longer peddle denial" even though, of course, Riis' admission and those of his former team-mates Rolf Aldag and the great German sprinter Erik Zabel that they too took EPO are part of a move to reform cycling, not drag it into the gutter. Where Mr Vecsey complains that "At the rate cycling is going, nothing is believable, anyway" less frothing minds see an admirable attempt to come clean about the past. But no, according to our columnist, "The way this spectacle is going...We could be watching a dying business."

Now there are various oddities here. Mr Vecsey even trots out well-known lines from Jacques Anquetil and Il Campionissimo himself, Fausto Coppi, to testify to the long history of drugs in cycling. It is almost twenty years since Paul Kimmage wrote Rough Ride, documenting the endemic drug-taking inside the peloton. No-one, save deluded journalists it seems, has been in denial at all. The cycling industry just didn't think much of this was terribly important and that cycling should continue to be a law  - and more importantly a culture - unto itself.

So what happened to change this? Well, in part the nature of the drugs themselves changed. There's a difference between taking drugs to survive and taking them to thrive. That's one reason why one could be relaxed about drug-taking in cycling but disappointed, even angered, by track and field atheletes taking banned substances. Cycling fans have a complex emotional relationship with their heroes, but one should never forget the role of pity. That's not an emotion associated with many other sports. But it's an important part of the tifosi's relationship with the bike riders. One feels for their suffering. The attitude is simple: you would take drugs if you had to do what they do too. The miracle of bike racing is, pace Dr Johnson, not that it is done well but that it is done at all.

EPO changed that dynamic slightly. Cycling didn't become easy, exactly. But it did become easier as riders were able to operate at full tilt for longer and recover from their exertions more easily than had previously been the case. The road was still rough, but not quite as brutal as it had been. Suddenly you could, once you;d learnt how to do so safely, take drugs to thrive rather than just survive. The distinction may seem bogus to non-cycling fans or to moralising hacks but it is, I believe, real.

Even then I find it hard to blame the riders. They still suffer for their sins after all. And how different, really, is taking EPO to, say, having the advantage of a revolutionary bike design that gives one an advantage over the rest of the field? Neither are exactly a product of your heart or guts or ability; both are means of exploiting those qualities to the fullest.

And yet, perhaps times need to change. The range and sophistication of the chemical enhancements now available are such that the old days of cocaine and amphetamines (poor old Tommy Simpson being th e classic example here) do seem quaint and innocent by comparison. The point is not that cyclists have always sought to take drugs (we know that and are relaxed about it) but that today's drugs are too good. They risk stripping riders' of their essential humanity, transforming them into robots from some futuristic movie: Terminators on Pedals. Consequently, the risk is that the link between the fan who honours the Kings of the Road for their suffering may be weakened.

All this is lost on Vecsey of course who prefers simplistic moralising to, well, anything else. He is, after all, blind to the rather obvious religious symbolism that has been an intrinsic part of cycling since, well, since it first began. At the very least one might expect him to be aware of the Hate the Sin, Love the Sinner stuff. (There are good reasons why, with the exception of the Netherlands, cycling is generally speaking, a sport most popular in catholic countries).

Lost too, amidst all this gnashing of teeth, is any awareness that teams such as CSC (run by Riis) and T-Mobile (Ullrich, Riis, Zabel etc) are much more vigilant about monitoring their riders health and clamping down on illegal (though that line is, of course, drawn arbitrarily) drug use. In other words, the peloton may be "cleaner" now than at any point in the past 20 years. Perhaps not, of course, but before there can be a new beginning (and forgiveness) there must be a full confession. The admissions from Riis and Zabel, therefore, are positive and useful, not reasons for despair and discouragement.

If I have a problem with EPO it is not so much the risk to riders' health as an aesthetic objection. It makes the racing less varied and, consequently, less interesting. If the peloton can go at it hammer and tongs all day it becomes that much more difficult for a breakaway to succeed. That makes for duller racing. Equally, faster average speeds on the flat are tough on the (relatively few remaining) specialist climbers who arrive in the mountains having exerted more energy just to keep up with the pace on the flat and consequently less able to take advantage of their strengths. My suspicion is that modern drugs help non-climbers in the mountains more than they aid climbers on the flat. This too makes for more boring, more predictable racing.

Still, it's not all doom and gloom. This year's Giro d'Italia is a cracking race (Monte Zoncolan tomorrow! Yikes!), even if I fear my boy Damiano Cunego is leaving it too late to overtake Danilo di Luca. Typically, Mr Vecsey doesn't mention the Giro at all in a column padded with irrelevant references to baseball and soccer. I suspect that he's the sort of cycling observer for whom there's only one race a year and the sort of hack who would, absurdly, put Lance Armstrong up there with (or even ahead of!) Eddie Merckx as the greatest bike rider ever.

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