The Lance Armstrong soap opera: Superheroes don’t exist

Everyone loves a hero; someone who defies the insurmountable odds to conquer what an average human would consider impossible. As human beings, we are always looking for that one person who inspires us to attain heights we never thought we could; someone who can move us; someone we can look up to. And whether we accept it or not, that is why we watch and follow sports; to subconsciously find that hero, that one special person who becomes so much more than a player or an athlete. He becomes a light-bearer who leads the way for others to follow. But every once in a while, very rarely, a mere mortal comes along and changes the way people look at life. He not only beats the odds, but creates a legacy that is exclusively his own. He is more than just a hero. Lance Armstrong was that person; he was sport’s first real superhero.

Now, I am not going to get into details about Armstrong’s career or what he achieved, because more than enough has been written about that. What I do want to discuss, is the ‘legend’ of Lance Armstrong.

Consider this: A cancer survivor makes a comeback to what is considered one of the most grueling sports in the world and ends up becoming a seven-time world champion, giving hope to millions of cancer-afflicted patients in the process – a heart-warming story that would moisten the eyes of even the most emotionless person. This man becomes a symbol of everything that is good in the world and proves that we are not such a failed species after all. The world stands behind him, with yellow ribbons and wristbands, cheering him all the way to the winning post. This man makes us forget all our short-comings and shows us what is possible through sheer will power and courage. He is made to stand on a pedestal reserved only for an elite few, a place where few humans would dare tread lest they come crashing down. He becomes the face of a multi-million dollar charity that promises to and, to a certain extent, even manages to change the lives of those suffering from a horrible disease. Livestrong, they all shout in unison. He is destined to go down in folklore.

But amongst all the adulation, there are hushed whispers of a dark side to this man. He’s been juicing, they say; he’s a cheat and a liar. But their voices are drowned in the din of the wristband-wielding mob. How dare someone point fingers at our saviour? Why can’t people ever see anything good in anyone else? Have we become so cynical that we point fingers at this great man? The crowd wins. The dissenting voices are shut out. All that remains are only whispers.

Time passes by. The whispers continue to persist. The roar of the mob is slowly but surely turning into a whimper. Fingers are pointed and accusations are made. The hushed voices are slowly coming to the fore. But the mob still stands by their demi-god, albeit silently now, hoping their faith is rewarded. But one day it all comes crashing down. Their hero admits he is, in fact, a cheat and a liar; that he did take performance-enhancing drugs. The world is stunned into silence. A feeling of betrayal takes over the crowd. Tears are shed, lives are shattered and all that is left is anger. We believed in you Lance, they say. You destroyed our faith. We wish you had never survived. A fall from grace is never easy; especially when you’re a superhero. A legend rose, a legend crashed and burned. That is the legacy of Lance Armstrong.

But at this point, I have to ask: who are you really angry at; Lance, for deceiving you all these years, or yourself, for believing all that he said to you? Could you really not read the writing on the wall? In the words of comedian Kat Williams, ”Ain’t nobody say the same s*** about you for twenty years. If a <insert expletive here> call you a crackhead for 20 years, b***h you are smoking crack!” But you didn’t want to believe it. Anyone who dared say a word about your idol was a villain. He was a villain because he just couldn’t accept the fact that someone could come back from cancer and be the greatest athlete in the world without taking drugs. It’s just too unbelievable to be true, isn’t it? YES IT IS! It always was. Cancer is a terrible disease and I admire Armstrong for making a comeback despite almost losing his life. But the fact remains that he was never going to be 100 percent again. You just refused to see it, because that would mean losing your superhero; the one person who gives you belief that one day you too can be extraordinary. But the bitter truth is that you are ordinary. We all are. Because, in the end, superheroes truly don’t exist.

I don’t hate Lance Armstrong. In fact, I feel sorry for him. Can you imagine how hard it must have been to carry the hopes of so many people? Everyday, he had to live a lie, just so that the people who believed in him wouldn’t lose hope. But he was just an ordinary man. And like any other ordinary person, he wilted and caved under the weight of his own lies. But now, he has a chance to start fresh. And I hope he takes it.

On a more important note, Livestrong will survive. It’s too big a charity to just shut up shop overnight. Armstrong may not be the face anymore, but the good work of the organization cannot be undone. All it needs now is a new hero. And I trust the people working behind the scenes will find one soon; because, as we all know, everyone loves a hero. Let’s just stop believing in superheroes.