Perhaps it is appropriate that I too weigh in on the Lance Armstrong story. After all, I used to be an avid cyclist. OK, tricyclist. But cut me some slack; I was only 2 at the time.
In any event, my long and storied history with cycling has me taking Armstrong’s admission as a personal affront. He revealed that he took performance enhancing drugs while competing. But only when riding uphill, I imagine (I mean, why would he need it for riding downhill?). Still, this is unforgivable. And now he has the audacity to say that he wants to devote the rest of his life to exposing others who have done the same?
Why, that’s like when the Romans admitted they crucified Jesus and then declared war on Japan. Or something. History is hard.
I admit, however, that I used to look up to Lance Armstrong. A cancer survivor who spent countless hours single-handedly manufacturing about a billion, yellow rubber bracelets. And yet, somehow, he found time to write a couple of books. I spent weeks reading them. Now I will have spend twice as long trying to unread them.
That is time I will never get back, Lance Armstrong!
And what will become of the disgraced, former Tour de France winner? Well, first he will be forced to return all of his championship jerseys. I do hope he washed them, though. Because otherwise, he can just keep them.
Then, he will be barred from participating in any and all competitive sports. Cycling, running, spelling bees, jacks…none of it. He MIGHT be able to participate in paper-folded-in-a-triangle tabletop football. But just not on the professional level.
And lastly, Lance likely will be sentenced to some form of community service. Like feeding the poor or babysitting Snooki’s kid. Or perhaps obtaining Human Growth Hormones (HGH) for underprivileged kids in inner-city high schools who cannot afford them.
But it doesn’t matter which of those worthwhile endeavors Lance undertakes. Because to me, he will forever be known as the Jose Canseco of cycling, although sadly, without the unintentionally hilarious Twitter feed.