Muddled mountains - Was Armstrong just peddling off his pedals?

In a shocking turn of events, Lance Armstrong’s decision not to defend his honour dealt a devastating blow both to his tarnished legacy and the hallowed idea that sport is indeed a pursuit of human excellence driven by persistent hard work. The hero that many looked up to has turned out to be no more than an overly celebrated cancer survivor and an indignant defendant who succumbed to the frailties of his complicated case. If ever there was a black Friday in sport, it ought to be the day Lance Armstrong did the next best thing to admitting guilt for juicing up the legs that held aloft an epic story that in all probability was nothing more than an orchestrated marketing operation for money and fame.

The journey from being among the greatest serial winners in sport to an athlete with no more than a tarnished legacy was prolonged. It has even inspired many to believe in the superlative determination of a man who pretended to rise from the dark corridors of despair to script a story that was too good to be true. The descent will be swift and salacious, details might yet take years but they will eventually emerge. If there was a slim chance of receiving a vindication, Armstrong has stomped the life out of it with his singular action of choosing not to defend his honour.

One of the many lingering memories of the Armstrong saga scripted itself in the 2001 Tour de France. The American had won the tour twice already and at the halfway stage, his chances of making it three in a row appeared bleak. Armstrong was down 35 minutes on the overall leader Francois Simon and the mountain stages were just about to begin. That was when the American and his coach Johan Bruyneel hatched a most ingenious plan – allowing his arch rivals to move to the front of the peloton Armstrong and his US Postal Service team opted to indulge in drafting at the back of the pack.

In order to trick his opponents into breaking away too early, the Texan feigned weakness, even despatching his team mates to supplement his fluid supplies as they deliberately chose to allow a manageable gap from the peloton. Meanwhile, the men at the front including arch rival Jan Ullrich (no white swan himself) sensed an opportunity to take control of the race. Working hard to gain an edge, the men at the front spent way too much energy far too early in the tenth stage. And then they struck – the Postal Service launched into an almighty attack from the base of Alp d’Huez. As they scurried through the peloton, there was a look of sheer disbelief on some of the shocked riders who were doing the hard riding for much of the day.

Having saved their energies by drafting for most of the day, the Postal Service had no difficulty in erasing an over seven minute deficit before eventually Armstrong passed Ullrich and Laurent Roux on the final climb of the day to take the stage by a margin of more than 2 minutes. After consolidating his gains over the next two stages, Lance made his big move on the 13^th stage. He had cut the lead to just over 9 minutes by then and with a remarkable exhibition of climbing skills, the American simply overpowered Ullrich and the rest of his competition into meek submission by taking off on the final climb yet again. In the course of just a few stages, Armstrong had overturned a 35 minute deficit to snatch the yellow jersey and establish a stranglehold on the Tour.

After many years of cherishing these memories as a superlative exhibition of excellence and human endeavour, the dawn of the realisation that the Armstrong heroics may not entirely be human effort is a disturbing blow for the many for whom sport is religion. The images of a determined human being conquering the Pyrenees are now tarnished with the knowledge that it was possibly a cyclist powered by recycled blood. The story wouldn’t be sacrosanct anymore, not if the incumbent Pope of cycling had abandoned his deity for creamy donuts and some extra dough.

The authorities might decree that the decorated cyclist be stripped of his paraphernalia, but in fact Cycling could do well to return to basics and erase the tainted memories of the past two decades. Meanwhile, we can go back to classic videos and celebrate the sustained brilliance of Bernard Hinault or the genius of Eddy Merckx. We could even allow ourselves to drift into the enduring spell cast by Greg LeMond, who might incidentally become the only American to win the iconic race if Armstrong is indeed stripped of the seven stripes that many shall now consider ill-earned.