Dear Lance,
I don’t even know where to start with the things I would love to sit down and tell you if given the opportunity, so here are my thoughts on the last 14-15 years:
I don’t care.
Let me clarify, lest you think the worst of me right off the bat.
I think I am like most Americans in that, I just don’t really care all that much about professional cycling. I don’t mean that to, in any way, denigrate or marginalize what you do, because I couldn’t do it (though I HAVE been able to ride a bike since I was about 4 or 5, and never once used training wheels), but professional cycling is just not that interesting to me. Like golf. I enjoy doing it, but watching or reading about it is just plain boring. I pay attention to professional cycling during the Tour de France, and then only when an American is leading.
So it would be disingenuous of me to pretend to care that you doped during your Tour wins. Europeans, and anyone else who truly cares about and loves professional cycling can be outraged that you doped, but not those of us who have, at best, a passing interest.
And despite your somewhat comical assertion to Oprah (though it’s an interesting argument) that you would not consider what you did “cheating,” because the definition of cheating is giving yourself an unfair advantage, and most of your competitors were doing the same thing, let’s call a spade a spade. You cheated.
But again, I don’t care.
But you didn’t only cheat, you lied about cheating, which is not wholly unexpected. Almost everyone (especially professional athletes and celebrities) who is accused of cheating or doing something wrong, will lie about it until he or she can no longer pass the lie off as the truth. Deny, deny, deny, right Lance? You are not the first athlete to lie about cheating, and you won’t be the last. Yet, it isn’t even your denials and lies that I believe bother people the most.
What is the most troublesome, at least to me, is the way you attacked, the way you went after those who were telling the truth about you. You sued that newspaper in London for libel and won. You attacked and bullied numerous former teammates and their relatives. While your methods may have been harsh, you did what we always say we want innocent people to do: fight for themselves and their reputations.
It is that same hard-charging exterior that led you to do immeasurable good in the fight against cancer. Livestrong, and those ubiquitous yellow bracelets that have been EVERYWHERE for the last 10-15 years, has helped countless people.
Again, I don’t care.
I don’t care if the foundation upon which Livestrong was built was a lie. In my book, if cheating in a bike race, and then lying about it for 15 years has helped raise hundreds of millions of dollars for cancer support, then so be it. In the grand scheme of life, what’s more important, helping people fighting a deadly disease or cheating to win a race? I covered a press-conference of yours back in 1999 at Nike Town in Manhattan and came away impressed. For the life of me, I can’t remember anything else about that press conference, but I remember thinking how inspirational you were and how positive you were about everything you had overcome.
In the interest of full disclosure, I did not watch much of your two-part interview with Oprah, so if you’ve already answered these questions, mea culpa. But here’s what I don’t get:
Why now?
You’ve had so many opportunities, both publicly and privately, to come clean over the last 14 years. If you had handled yourself like fellow Texan Andy Pettite, you would probably still have been suspended at some point, but you would have been a much more sympathetic figure. If you had done what he did when news of his use of HGH was made public (he held a press conference in which he apologized, seemed sincere, and told the world that he did use HGH but that he did it to get back on the field as quickly as he could after an injury), there’s a good chance you’d be competing right now. I think you’d be hard-pressed to find too many people -- former opponents, former teammates, even die-hard Yankee-hating Red Sox fans – who don’t like, or at least respect, Andy Pettite, and a big reason for part of that is how he handled his performance enhancing drug scandal.
Instead, you chose to act like your other fellow Texan, Roger Clemens. Like you, Clemens vehemently denied accusations that he used illegal performance enhancing drugs, even though all one needs to do is look at pictures of him from 1986 and 2006 to see how his body changed. He demanded to go in front of Congress in order to be able to defend his name, even though there are very few people that actually believe him. Even in the face of almost irrefutable evidence, to this day, he continues to deny. Unlike Andy, Clemens is almost universally despised.
Where do you stand Lance? I know there are legions of people who love you for your work with Livestrong, but do most of them like you?
I’d also ask, to whose advice have you been listening over the last 14 years? Have your lawyers and advisers advised you to come clean? Have you ignored them? Who told you to come forward now and unburden yourself to Oprah? Did they advise against it? Didn’t you learn, somewhere along the way, from watching countless public figures succumb to humiliating scandals, that in this day and age, the truth ALWAYS comes out and that it’s ALWAYS better to get out in front of it?
The truth is, I guess that it’s good you finally apologized to America, though most of us didn’t really need it. Since news of your Oprah interview broke, I’ve heard numerous interviews with people who have fought, or are fighting, cancer, who have all said that they don’t care, that the work you’ve done for Livestrong overshadows any of the wrong you’ve done.
On the other side of the coin, I’ve heard interviews with Betsy Andreu and Rick Reilly, who both said that “I’m Sorry,” is nowhere near enough. To them I’d ask, is there anything you could possibly say at this point to make things okay? My guess is, the answer is no. I was wronged once by someone who acted so spitefully and vindictively that there is literally nothing she could ever say that would make it alright, nothing she could say that would ever make me forgive her. There are things she could do, but nothing she could say. And I suspect that, for the people you trampled and bullied (for telling the truth, mind you), there is nothing you could ever say to make them feel better.
Here is what I would’ve told you to say if you had consulted me before making your public confession:
“I would like to make a statement regarding the allegations that I doped and cheated during my cycling career. There have been numerous accusations about my doping, and I would like to say that some of the things of which I have been accused are true. I doped during my seven Tour de France wins. I knew it was against the rules, but I also knew that my top competition was doing the same thing and that I needed to do the same if I was going to have any chance to win. That said, I knew it was against the rules, and for that, I’m sorry.
There are a number of people I personally hurt with my behavior, and again, I’d like to say I’m sorry. I will reach out to those people privately and personally apologize to them. I can only hope that they will forgive me, but if not, I understand.
Whether I am ever allowed to compete again or not, I vow to bring the same passion to riding professional cycling of doping and cheating that I have to the fight against cancer and that I did in winning the Tour de France seven straight times.
Thank you.”
Because here’s the thing. You did that whole long interview with Oprah, and you just got criticized for it. People said that you came off cold and uncaring. As far as I can tell, that’s you, and your demeanor with Oprah was really no different than your demeanor at any other time. If you cried, you would have been called a phony. You were in a no-win situation, and you lost, so why even try.
I suspect though, that you have been your own biggest advisor and have done what you want, not what others have advised.
Back in 1999, I spent about 6-8 months trying to teach myself how to play guitar. I bought a book of chords, a book of scales, and printed a bunch of tablature I found on the internet. Whenever I told people that I was teaching myself guitar, they’d inevitably ask how it was going, to which I would reply, “I need a better teacher.”
I think you need a better advisor.
Sincerely,
Good Times Dad
P.S.- If you’re interested, I would be happy to help advise you going forward, and don’t worry, you can afford me.
Meet our premier gentleman....
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