— Christian Prudhomme, Tour de France director.
And so Floyd Landis [1] stands before us, accused and ready to appeal the charges that he used testosterone to win the Tour de France [1]. Most likely, he'll be stripped of his title and forced pass his soiled yellow jersey to the next best cyclist, Oscar Pereiro [2]. As Pereiro put it: "It's a pity we didn't know about the positive [result] earlier."
A pity it is. The cyclists I know seem to fall into groups when we talk about Landis. One camp — they ride mostly for fun — embraced Floyd early on. They liked the quirky details about him [3]: his bad hip, and Mennonite roots, the dramatic setback, the spectacular comeback, and finally, his victory. They're crushed by the news.
The other group — they ride mostly to suffer — is a cynical and hardened bunch (I blame it on too many mountain climbs.) They're less impressed by Landis, and convinced that nearly every cyclist in the Tour [4] relied on chemicals throughout the race. Doping is unavoidable, [5] they insist. It's a reality of the sport and has been for a long time. They're numbed to the news.
The scandal has prompted much panic and hand wringing amonst cycling officials. The World Anti-Doping Agency [6] and International Cycling Union [7] are begging cyclists to quit doping and clean up. If they don't, they say, audiences will grow cynical and tune out. Sponsors will walk away. Cycling [7] will lose all credibility. The sport will die.
Really? Are doping scandals — rampant and prominent as they may be — as dramatic as that? Are they enough to drive away fans for good?
Personally, this (and other recent scandals [8]) aren't chasing me off. I don't support dopes who dope, but I'm not willing to give up on cycling either.
Apparently, however, some cycling officials are so worried that they're advocating a drastic and ridiculous step: To temporarily shut down the sport [9] so that it won't die. No kidding.
If it is shut down, cycling won't die. It'll be murdered.