My first reaction upon reading Floyd Landis’ varied and detailed admissions/accusations today was probably not unlike yours: surprise, bordering on shock, followed by skepticism. But then came a feeling I must admit I rather did not expect.
I believe him.
Not 100 percent, of course. Liars tell lies, and the more lies they tell, the better they get at them. But so much of what Landis has “revealed” strikes at what many people have wondered at, albeit privately, for a long time.
It’s not so much “Did Lance dope?” No, I think that most American cycling fans, were they honest with themselves, would probably admit he likely has. It’s simply the cost of doing business in professional cycling, as with many other professional sports in this country and around the world.
No, this goes deeper than that. This is: “How did he do it? Who did it with him? Just how deep does this all run?”
Well, if you believe Landis even, say, 50 percent, pretty damn deep.
These claims of Floyd’s, they aren’t empty. These aren’t bags of needles found in a dumpster in the middle of the night that never see the light of day. There is significant detail to what he’s said.
In a series of e-mails to anti-doping officials, reporters and others, Landis outlines not just the what (alleged substances included HGH, EPO and even insulin, among other things) but also the who, the when and the where.
Most reports you’ll find quoting Landis or his e-mails directly implicate Johan Bruyneel as essentially the person who helped “instruct” Landis and others on how to use various drugs or methods. Landis said he began using upon joining Bruyneel and Armstrong’s Postal Service team in the early part of last decade.
Aside from the generous mention of Armstrong’s name, Landis’ admission directly implicates George Hincapie, Levi Leipheimer and Dave Zabriskie as well. Even Phonak, the team Landis rode for when he won the Tour de France in 2006, helped fund a doping program, Landis alleged, according to an ESPN report.
So why believe a man who spent millions and even wrote a book in defense of his innocence, only to come clean when it appears he had nothing left to lose? Three reasons come to mind.
- Again, the detail. The Wall Street Journal report on the subject also sheds plenty of light into that. These aren’t fly-by-night accusations. There is depth, there is vividness. This paints a very believable picture.
- Cyclists use performance-enhancing drugs, and just because not all get caught doesn’t mean not all are guilty. People have asked quietly, for years, how Lance Armstrong could be so dominant in a time when some of his closest competitors — Basso, Ullrich, Pantani — became embroiled in drug scandals. Armstrong bristles, predictably, at such questions, but they are completely fair.
- By his own admission, Landis has nothing to lose. Four years after winning the Tour, he is untouchable, unable to break back into the ProTour, despite possessing at least some of the ability that made him one of the sport’s best, drugs or no drugs. Yes, this will be seen by some as just trying to drag others down with him, grabbing a last few minutes of fame. And it probably is that. But it’s also probably, at least at some level, a man clearing his conscience, and perhaps even trying to make sure something good comes of it.
And so we come to the liar’s paradox. The liar says something is true, but how can it be true when coming from a liar?
It doesn’t matter.
What does is that cycling stands on precipitous ground in the American sports world. The emergence and success of people like Landis and Armstrong and Leipheimer pushed the sport to the front pages for the first time in a very long time.
Considering as well their considerable success, the impact this generation of American cyclists have made in the growth of the sport in this country makes them arguably the best, collectively, in the country’s history. Landis’ allegations, if ever proven to a reasonable degree, injure such progression deeply, and the effects on cycling in America could be devastating.
