ESPN released their two-part, three-and-a-half-hour Lance Armstrong documentary, Lance, in 2020, but I just got around to watching it on Netflix. Maybe it just arrived there. I’ve consumed so much media about Armstrong at this point, I’m not sure why I bothered watching it, but it was good, and it got me thinking about how my views on the guy have evolved over time, which is only partially related to how I feel about the doping era (which we are still quite probably in) more generally.
The Armstrong story, taken in whole, is about a tidal wave of Type-A charisma wed to a world class cardio-vascular engine crashing into the morally opaque world of professional cycling. Essentially and maybe unwittingly, Armstrong slipped on the Ring of Gyges, and a predictable story ensued, moral rot run riot, hubris, a fatal flaw that brought him back into the spotlight when he might have gotten away with it, if he’d just stayed home and shut the fudge up.
I watched this doc, and thought, “It had to happen this way,” and even, “I’m glad it happened this way.” Armstrong was the unintentional wrecking ball pro cycling needed. He was, despite his tarnished name, rescinded trophies, and pariah status, a giant of the sport.
If you doubt for a moment Armstrong’s overwhelming charisma, then just ask yourself why you even bothered to read this piece about a rider who hasn’t been relevant to the outcome of a race in well over a decade. Saying he’s charismatic does not mean he’s a good person. It means that he’s compelling.
If you doubt his raw talent, then just listen to the riders who competed with him, both before he began doping and after. The story here isn’t that Armstrong wouldn’t have been an elite athlete without dope, it’s that he charted a maximalist course through a compromised sport. In the end, he was exactly the villain cycling needed, a pariah to cast aside with the curse of oxygen-vector doping.
If you are looking for a story with incredible shades of gray throughout, it’s this one. A beacon of hope for millions affected by cancer, and a liar. A driver of the road bike boom that carried the industry for a decade or more, and the asshole who put Lemond Bicycles out of business out of spite. A person who gave massively of himself, and a person who abused those most loyal to him. A man driving history, and a victim of it.
In this narrative everything is relative, and that makes parsing it all difficult, and that’s a good thing.
There are dopers still in cycling, riders who raced alongside Armstrong who are gainfully employed in the sport, respected even. When we say Armstrong was the worst, we mean he was the most successful. Many of his cohort have been forgiven despite very little in the way of contrition. Lance remains unforgiven, despite a million apologies.
Make no mistake, I’m not here to fight his corner. I’m just saying everything that seemed so clear in the moment is all of a haze now. We are an imperfect species, and maybe Armstrong is resented because he is and was the most imperfect.
It’s something to marvel at, really. Something to try, but likely fail, to understand.
What a let-down that whole era was for me. Let’s not forget that utterly tragic figure, Marco Pantani.
This post sent me down quite a rabbit hole. I watched the 30 for 30 episodes plus the “behind the scenes” with Julich, Hincapie, and Hamilton in a round table discussion about all of the topics. I watched highlights of key stages from 1999 and 2000 tours. I was reminded very quickly why I followed Armstrong so closely during those years. He was “aw-shucks, I’m just a guy from Texas” but he was a destroyer ripping he way through everything. The commentary on the stage highlights was interesting to hear knowing what unfolded over the next 24 years. Armstrong still seems to come off as “I was in a bad place at the wrong time and I just did what I did and I’m not really sorry for any of it”. I can understand why he has that attitude, but, its hard for me to agree with him. Not everyone would have done what he did. It was all still a choice.
I would recommend watching all of these videos. I found Julich’s comments to be the most interesting. He didn’t ride on USPS but rode with Lance as juniors and on Motorola in the early pro year or two and then competed against them. Some Julich comments that stood out to me: “I planned my races to avoid the events where Lance was because I had no chance.” “I can accept the results because even without the drugs, Armstrong was the strongest rider I’ve ever seen.”
I’m still conflicted and mixed up about the what happened from 1993 – 2014 in pro road racing. The story remains compelling to me and probably always will be. Who knows, I might go back and re-read Its Not About the Bike.