In 1989 I first discovered Nirvana, and they were a band that made an impression on me for reasons like this.
Then again, I was also a huge fan of Fudge Tunnel, so that shows you where my head was at.
I’m sure Captain Dave will be through here at some point with his perspective on the currant drama within the Lance camp, but I had to take the opportunity to post the following comment made by one Berne Shaw at the conclusion of this recent VeloNews piece.
“As an older pro rider at the time I watched the best athlete I had ever seen in any sport ride past us when he was yet an intermediate amateur. He had a VO2 max of 93, higher than olympic cross country skiers and marathoners.
He was honest, bright, and generous. He became a real family man, a good husband. He was Greg LeMond.
He was almost fatally shot and recovered. He went on to two more TDF wins and a World Championship all against others who doped.
HE DID NOT DOPE! I knew him. He with his VO2 max of 93 and advanced training and dedication had bad days, trouble attaining peak fitness. He began to over train to keep up with the peloton. He panicked. He thought there was something wrong with him. It took him a while to realize the whole peloton was doping.
The speeds of stages, the climbers, the domestiques going faster than him.
Did he dope to equalize himself? Answer NO a resounding NO.
He dared to speak out even though it would cost him his career, his contract with Trek, his reputation. He knew Lance and others would trash him.
Many many many here and else where called him jealous, sour grapes, a baby. They accused him here of being a doper too. A has been. They extolled Lance.
Lance sold poison Kool Aid folks. Sugary colorful hero cancer survivor wonderboy Kool Aid.
I watched the young Lance after races. He was a sick womanizer. Callous. Superficial. Party man. User.
Everyone knew back then he was not mr. nice guy.
Like many vain glorious macho types he was good at being charismatic and since he totally rationalized his own crap behavior he was incredibly good at fooling himself and looking genuine and honest. Never true. Never.
There are two kinds of dopers. The small guys who have some moral fiber who get caught up in things. Like Andreaui, Hincapie, Hamilton. They are wrong but their motives and methods are minor. They are decent people who have made wrong choices. They can atone and do great things in their lives if they come clean.
And there are the big ones. They do the real destruction to people and the sport. They are empty and disconnected to anything moral. They give convincing apologies after being brought down but they should never be trusted again. They are the ones we must learn to never trust.
Lance is one of those individuals. I have been played a fool in my life, so like any of you here who were fooled, I am no better.
But I did see through Lance. I am so so glad for LeMond and all the other true heros who stayed the course, had the integrity and courage to speak out. Thank you Greg. And thank you to all here and elsewhere who would be silenced.”
Fuckin’ a Berne. Fuckin’ a.
Granted, it’s more of a sack, and though it’s not a tight as Bears, at least it’s not as shriveled and dangly as Sov’s
El Gato Fritz just sent us a clip of our destiny;
“The Evil Cycling team was taking video applications for Team Chef!
EGF”
Welcome aboard strangely hot drunk chick. We’re pleased to have you.
I may disagree with things he may have done, but you know, I’ve never met the guy and I only call ‘em like I’ve see ‘em once I’ve actually had the opportunity to ‘see them’ with my own two eyes.
That said, unless you were living in your own cave, last night you learned that Osama Bin Laden was finally killed by allied forces in Pakistan.
While perusing the Twitters after the news broke, I saw that Armstrong posted this;
This isn’t a fucking sporting event, Mr. Armstrong, nor is this an event worthy of National pride. I am an American citizen, and though I harbor no love for Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, or any of the acts they have carried out, I have no interest in anyone chanting my country’s name in celebration of another person dying, Public Enemy Number One, or not.
Are you irrational enough to assume that his death will bring about any change, other than instant martyrdom and ten more people filling his shoes?
Besides that, might I remind you of this;
10 years, 2 wars, 919,967 deaths, untold numbers injured, and $1,188,263,000,000 later, America’s forces manage to kill one person.
As insufferable as they are, and if you feel you must, keep your patriotic chants for when scientists, teachers, scholars, politicians, or even athletes do something great in the name of this country.
Otherwise, I side with Captain Dave when I plainly say ‘fuck off’.
