Dear San Diego Cyclists:
<snip>
How was your ride?
| My personal take on the Lance Armstrong debate is that he probably did what everyone else did, and frankly I really do not care either way. However, I strongly resent the misappropriation of our hard-earned tax dollars on this witch hunt to line the pockets of a bunch of overpaid attorneys and to build the resumes of a bunch of self-aggrandizing bureaucrats. John E. |
My personal take on the Lance Armstrong debate is that he probably did what everyone else did, and frankly I really do not care either way. However, I strongly resent the misappropriation of our hard-earned tax dollars on this witch hunt to line the pockets of a bunch of overpaid attorneys and to build the resumes of a bunch of self-aggrandizing bureaucrats.
John E.
--
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "San Diego Bicyclist Forum" group.
To post to this group, send email to San-Diego-Bi...@googlegroups.com.
To unsubscribe from this group, send email to San-Diego-Bicyclis...@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/San-Diego-Bicyclist-Forum?hl=en.
| Fine, but how about a little fiscal responsibility in the system? John E. |
>I don't understand why so many are holding theWhat we have here is a fundamental difference of opinion. I don't think years of testing -- the number of over 500 drug tests was reported widespread in the media, not by the Lance Armstrong™ Propaganda Machine -- and not being able to detect any chemical abuse is an impossible standard. It sounds as if they could not find a Catholic in the Vatican! (And if that pisses anyone off, how 'bout a Mormon in Utah? Or a Muslim in Riyadh?)
>USADA to such an impossible standard.
All I am saying (and I am getting sick of saying it) is that if the drug usage was widespread and the drug tests were considered a joke -- You yourself used the word joke, not me -- then because of the tremendous rewards for the victors, the authorities were essentially saying, "Go ahead and use drugs. We know it is going on. Our tests are a joke." To then go back and say, "Ahem. We now are going to strip you of your awards because we have to admit to the world that there was widespread drug usage and we did not do anything about it."
Your analogy of rape and murder would be complete if the FBI agents were standing there watching the rape when it happened and then 20 years later said, "Oh, yeah! I saw him rape that woman. I think we better do something about it, don't you, Fred? Let's bring him in for questioning. Call the reporters so they can be there when we bring in him for the perp walk."
As I said, it is a fundamental difference of opinion and we can just leave it at that. By the way, you did not deny your little scheme, did you? Aha! We knew it!
Frustratingly submitted,
Frank Paiano
Great bit of writing from Shaun Wallace (on his Facebook Page).
> Sh*t, Sh*t, Sh*t. Court Summons
>
> For years, at least 500 times, local cop who hates me keeps setting up speeding traps near my house. Must think I'm stupid as i know they are there (just don't know when). Anyhow I always pass, but now it turns out some other drivers who DID speed, or who he's threatened, have agreed to testify they saw ME speeding years ago in exchange for a smaller ticket and no "points". This just doesn't seem fair.
What ultimately makes the book so damning, however, is that it doesn’t require readers to put their full faith in Hamilton’s word. In the book’s preface, which details its genesis, Coyle not so subtly addresses Armstrong’s supporters by pointing out that, while the story is told through Hamilton, nine former Postal teammates agreed to cooperate with him on The Secret Race, verifying and corroborating Hamilton’s account. Nine teammates. That fact is the first punch thrown at Armstrong’s supporters—and it might be the most damaging one. Next Wednesday, when The Secret Race comes out, backers will probably make the familiar claim that Hamilton is a disgruntled, bitter ex-rival who got popped for doping and is now looking to cash in. But that doesn’t explain why nine former teammates agreed to cooperate.
Here’s the reality: The Secret Race isn’t just a game changer for the Lance Armstrong myth. It’s the game ender. No one can read this book with an open mind and still credibly believe that Armstrong didn’t dope. It’s impossible. That doesn’t change the fact that he survived cancer and helped millions of people through Livestrong, but the myth of the clean-racing hero who came back from the dead is, well, dead.
Where to start? It’s hard to describe the impact of The Secret Race by boiling it down to seven or eight shocking anecdotes. The book delivers them—make no mistake—but its real power comes from Hamilton’s unprecedented attempt at full disclosure. And I mean full. The book is the holy grail for disillusioned cycling fans in search of answers. In a taut 268 pages, Hamilton confidently and systematically destroys any sense that there was ever any chance of cleaning up cycling in the early 2000s, revealing the sport’s powerful and elaborate doping infrastructure. He’s like a retiring magician who has decided to let the public in on the profession’s most guarded techniques.
Beginning with his first doping experiences as a member of the U.S Postal Service team in 1997, Hamilton reveals not only what he and other riders were doing and taking (EPO, steroids, testosterone, Actovegin, blood transfusions, and on and on), but also how they were taking it (in the case of EPO, intravenously—and Hamilton has the scar to prove it). He tells us how most riders evaded detection (one trick: French laws bar testers from showing up between 10 P.M. and 6 A.M., so cyclists “microdosed” EPO at ten and the drug was gone by morning) and how the game was rigged in a way that made testing nearly irrelevant (“If you were careful and paid attention,” writes Hamilton, “you could dope and be 99 percent certain that you would not get caught”). Supporters still clinging to the claim that Armstrong passed more than 500 drug controls will be shocked to learn how insignificant those tests really were.
The drugs are everywhere, and as Hamilton explains, Armstrong was not just another cyclist caught in the middle of an established drug culture—he was a pioneer pushing into uncharted territory. In this sense, the book destroys another myth: that everyone was doing it, so Armstrong was, in a weird way, just competing on a level playing field. There was no level playing field. With his connections to Michele Ferrari, the best dishonest doctor in the business, Armstrong was always “two years ahead of what everybody else was doing,” Hamilton writes. Even on the Postal squad there was a pecking order. Armstrong got the superior treatments.