From the bicycling magazine website.
A Tale Of Two Men
A tornado of bitter drug allegations has sandblasted Lance Armstrong as he preps for the Tour and announces a new sponsor. The trail to the truth is a twisty one full of tangents--only one man can reveal the true story.
By Joe Lindsey, Contributing Writer
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity."
-Opening lines to "A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens
By most accounts, Lance Armstrong is not the most literary of bike racers, although he does have a proclivity to read much of what is written about him. But after Tuesday he might have a special affinity for Dickens' description of life during the French Revolution.
In a surreal case of split identities, two Lance Armstrongs appeared Tuesday at a press conference in the suburbs of Washington, D.C.:
Lance Armstrong No. 1 was there to announce that Discovery Communications would in 2005 assume sponsorship of what is now the United States Postal Service cycling team (presented by Berry Floor, of course).
Lance Armstrong No. 2 was there for an entirely different and much less savory reason: to face, head-on, questions regarding the release of a book which again dogs him with allegations of drug use.
The book, "LA Confidential: Les Secrets de Lance Armstrong," published initially in France, is the latest salvo from Armstrong's personal Javert, lead sportswriter of the London Times, David Walsh (and co-written with former l'Equipe writer Pierre Ballester).
In it, Walsh, a three-time British Sportswriter of the Year, alleges that, among other acts, Armstrong fixed the 1993 Triple Crown (his $1 million sweep of the then-CoreStates, nee First Union, nee Wachovia,
series) and that he used banned substances, including during his Tour de France wins. Walsh admits that he has no clear proof, but that the information is available and the reader can decide for himself.
Armstrong has seen allegations before, but this is no French TV crew rooting through dumpsters; the principal source is none other than Emma O'Reilly, a former head soigneur for Postal who left the team and the sport after the 2000 season. Another source is Stephen Swart, who rode with Armstrong on Motorola. A 10-page excerpt ran this week in the French magazine l'Express and the London Times ran a story on Monday with quotes from the book.
At the press conference, Armstrong fought to keep the discussion centered on the good reason he was there--a three-year deal with Discovery that cements probably $9 million a year for Armstrong and the team owner, Tailwind Sports. But it was clear on Tuesday, Armstrong is not in control.
After a chummy round of mutual admiration between Armstrong and Discovery executives, Armstrong was treated to a different form of discovery by the press. First question, from USA Today's Sal Ruibal:
"Lance, today can you assure your millions of fans around the world that you have never used illegal performance-enhancing drugs or techniques at any time during your cycling career?" Ruibal asked after congratulating Armstrong on the new deal. After a pause, Armstrong responded:
"I can absolutely confirm that we don't use doping products (at Postal)," he began. "I can also remind everyone here and remind everyone listening this is not the first time it's happened. It's not the first time I've lived through this. We heard it in 1999, heard it in 2001, again in 2003. It happens all the time." He paused briefly, then continued in a stronger tone.
"Every time we've chosen to sit back and let it pass, but we've sort of reached the point where we really can't tolerate it anymore. And we're sick and tired of these allegations and we're going to do everything we can to fight them. They're absolutely untrue. We've filed action in England. We've filed action in France, against everybody involved.
Enough is enough."
Armstrong is correct in that he's never before filed suit against those who've alleged he's not clean, but historically he's been as assiduous as any politician about polishing his image and flexing legal muscle to protect it. In 1999 he went after Cannondale for running a congratulatory ad on his first Tour win. He also took to task Postal's team clothing sponsor, Pearl Izumi, for a similar ad, on the grounds that Pearl, unlike Nike, Giro and Oakley, to name three of the team's other equipment sponsors, didn't have a separate endorsement contract with him to use his likeness in promotions even though he rode in Pearl clothing all season. Both actions were quickly and quietly settled, but the cold nature of Armstrong's actions left a sour taste in the mouths of the companies involved and the generally congenial bike industry.
And journalists have traditionally been wary about running unflattering stories about Armstrong, in part because of the threat of legal action (Walsh was sent a letter a week ago threatening a suit if the book contained allegations of doping) and in part because Armstrong is a busy cottage industry for sportswriters (such as myself) and access can be key.
In a story last year in Outside magazine, contributor Eric Hagerman wrote candidly about the phenomenon of reporters penning hagiographical stories in exchange for access. "Most journalists who cover the Tour are loath to ask about doping, either because they don't want to taint their love of the sport or because they're simply afraid of getting frozen out by the Armstrong camp," Hagerman wrote. "Such reporters are sometimes referred to as FWTs--fans with typewriters."
Walsh, certainly no FWT, has been Armstrong's most dogged pursuer.
Although he wrote flatteringly of Armstrong in his 1993 book "Inside the Tour de France," Walsh no longer looks at Armstrong in such a light. In 2001, Walsh disclosed that Armstrong consulted with Michele Ferrari, a controversial Italian sports doctor who is again on trial for sporting fraud (previous trials have resulted in acquittal).
To make matters worse, while Armstrong maintains Walsh is pursuing a personal vendetta against him (which the Times disputes), he has a disconcerting habit of turning up credible, named sources. The latest is O'Reilly; other sources for "LA Confidential" included former Motorola pro Stephen Swart and Kathy LeMond, wife to three-time Tour champion Greg LeMond. (The Times of London reported Monday that Greg could not be interviewed for the book because of contractual obligations; Trek, Armstrong and Postal's bike sponsor, owns LeMond's bike company too. Kathy is not bound by such agreements.)
Swart, according to the story in the London Times, admits in the book to using EPO in 1995 while on Motorola, and says that the pressure to do so came from the need to produce results for the sponsor. Kathy LeMond recounts notes she took from a phone conversation between Armstrong and Greg after Walsh outed the relationship with Ferrari; in it, Greg and Lance have what the Times called a "heated discussion" about EPO, including questions about who was taking it, and why. For his 2001 story, Walsh cited evidence from Italian police investigating Ferrari (including Ferrari's logs of Armstrong's visits) and quoted a former Postal team doctor, Prentice Steffen, as saying his departure from the team was precipitated by a refusal "to do all that could be done" to help Postal racers get better results. Steffen left the team in 1997, a year before Armstrong signed on.
Walsh has a habit of turning Armstrong's life upside down at inopportune moments: the Ferrari accusation came on the eve of the 2001 Tour; Armstrong spent much of the race answering questions about the association and glared at Walsh when the writer asked questions at press conferences.
Armstrong's only benefit in such instances is that he thrives on negative motivation. Since his earliest competition, his attitude has been him against the world, and he cultivates a sense of righteous anger as fuel for his performances; Walsh may have just delivered Lance a sixth Tour title with his latest salvo.
"...it does add up to a little bit of stress, but I gotta tell you, when I go home, I'm not thinking about this," Armstrong said Tuesday. "I'm thinking about winning the Tour. I'm thinking about starting [in Liege on July 3] and I'm thinking...as I said earlier I don't ever think about winning number six but I guess I will think a little bit about six."
But it's clear he is thinking about the book, and for more than just motivational purposes. Asked about O'Reilly's accusations, Armstrong first struck a conciliatory tone. "In fact we actually had a very good working relationship. I know that Emma left the team for other reasons.
Even as evil as this thing has come out to be, it's not gonna be my style to attack her."
He then proceeded to do just that, albeit subtly. "I know there were a lot of issues within the team, within the management, within the other riders that were inappropriate. She was let go, but to be quite honest I always had a good relationship with her," he finished.
In a short profile of O'Reilly that longtime cycling correspondent Samuel Abt wrote in 1999 for the International Herald Tribune, then-Postal manager Mark Gorski called O'Reilly the "heart and soul of the team." O'Reilly told Abt that the other soigneurs had actively supported her presence despite the stigma against women soigneurs in European cycling, a stigma that Gorksi termed "inappropriate."
And while he said he wouldn't attack O'Reilly, when I asked Armstrong at Tuesday's press conference whether she was named in the suit, he responded that for now "...we're talking about authors and publishers and papers and magazines that have excerpted the stuff," and added an ominous warning: "But we won't discriminate," he finished.
Armstrong is not a forgiving person when he perceives he's been slighted. "The world is black-and-white to him," John Korioth, a friend, told Hagerman for the Outside article last year. Korioth would know, having been both in and out of Armstrong's good graces (he's currently back in). Other one-time "outs" are Kevin Livingston, who got the cold shoulder when he left to ride for Jan Ullrich at Telekom (which Armstrong viewed as a personal betrayal), and even longtime agent and friend Bill Stapleton, who was told in 1998 to get Lance signed to a team pronto or lose his sole client.
Stories of uncommon kindness also abound--primarily involving cancer sufferers and those business associates who did stick with Armstrong through his fight with cancer, when it was not clear if he'd even survive, let alone race again. That kind of loyalty, that kind of shared suffering, produces fast bonds that do not break. But the troubling relationships are those that have broken.
O'Reilly has been out of the sport since 2000 and, more than likely, does not have the resources to stage a long defense if she's named in a suit; what does she have to gain from accusing Armstrong? What does Swart? Walsh's motives are up for free debate; his sources too, but a bit less so since they don't have book sales to consider. Do they speak out of a sense of being wronged? Do they speak to speed up what they see as justice delayed? In any event, Armstrong could find himself in more trouble than he'd ever imagined.
In a seemingly unrelated story, the Associated Press reported earlier this week on a memo leaked from the legal office of the United States Anti-Doping Agency. Credited by the AP to USADA's director of legal affairs, Tyson Tygart, the memo outlined a plan to lower the agency's standard of proof in drug investigations.
Most of the stories reporting this concentrated on the effect this would have on USADA's ongoing investigation into Marion Jones and other figures in the BALCO case, because the new rules would govern any drug case begun after this past March 1 and seem tailor-made to produce a sanction against Jones and her boyfriend, 100-meter world record holder Tim Montgomery. But any subsequent investigation into Armstrong would also use the lower standard of proof, which allows more circumstantial evidence.
Previously, only a positive drug test or admission of drug use was considered admissible evidence; the use had to be proved "beyond a reasonable doubt." But Tygart's memo held that in arbitration cases the standard of proof is lower because "formal rules of evidence do not apply to arbitration." That allows the introduction of evidence previously called hearsay, such as someone alleging to have supplied an athlete with drugs, even if no positive test or admission of use was obtained from the athlete.
And instead of requiring certainty of doping beyond a reasonable doubt, a sanction can be supported with the "comfortable satisfaction" of the panel, a piece of language straight out of the World Anti-Doping Association code, to which the U.S. Olympic Committee and USADA adhere.
That standard, incidentally, is common in professional misconduct cases in the legal and medical arenas.
In other words, Walsh and Ballester's new book relies on precisely the kind of information that is now likely allowed in drug investigations.
So which of the two Lance Armstrongs at Tuesday's press conference is the real one? Is it the man who slyly slurred a former soigneur by alluding to inappropriate things within the team that led to her dismissal; who freezes out former friends who he thinks are disloyal or no longer pulling their weight; who threatens sponsors with legal action for attempting to congratulate him? Or is it the happy Armstrong announcing his new deal, the Armstrong who spends valuable time befriending terminal cancer patients, who tirelessly stumps for his foundation and who, say 80-plus percent of MSNBC.com readers, by recent poll, is and always has been entirely clean?
If Armstrong loses the Tour this year, it will be due to karma. Not the mystical kind of force that wings its way around the world, waiting to deck those who've been bad for various indistinct sins, but the kind that is a direct result of one's actions, actions that turn former friends and associates against a person, the ugly kind of ruthless focus on winning that is heedless of the human toll it exacts. And if he loses, we may see that the real Lance Armstrong is not the one we've been watching for six years. The question, then, for Lance is simple:
Who are you?
