In a nutshell, Lance Armstrong is lite beer. I am the unfortunate recipient of a new subscription to GQ, and oddly, the one thing that struck me most in the latest issue was seeing his Lance-ness (how white is that?) in an ad for Michelob “Ultra.” With all the hateful creeps still trying to take Lance’s glory away, big beer is still willing to use Lance in an ad, showing him leading a couple of geeks on mountain bikes, both of whom are actually riding their brakes (Lance does not do this, since he actually knows how to ride a bike, and nobody has ever needed to use their brakes behind him. Assholes.). Let’s not discuss reality here, but hey, kudos to big beer for being willing to make use of a mythical figure…
Is there a point here? Maybe it’s that someone in big beer is rooted enough in reality to decide that cycling’s anti-doping fiends are just nuts, and that their arguments and testing are pointless. Drugs are there, just like in pretty much every other pro sport, and they will never go away. Big beer understands that Lance is just an awesome bike rider, regardless of his overall douchbagginess. That said, if you beat the shit out of everyone in your field, including cancer, you’ve got a right to be the hugest douchebag you can be. Nobody can deny that Lance earned his winnings by being the best; he did what everyone else did, just better, and with a bit better luck in the genetics department (aside from that missing nut).
To explain my first line here, lite beer is a joke–it still makes you fat. Unfortunately, you can’t get a buzz on lite beer, so what the fuck is the point? Are you afraid of a buzz? If you wanted to be a competitive bodybuilder, would you try to do it without drugs? Nobody would ever know your name, or recognize your image, unless skinny guys who lift weights suddenly become the thing. Without EPO, blood doping, speed, B12, caffeine, and all kinds of other weird shit most of us have never heard of, you just don’t have pro cycling–that’s just the way it is. The point here is myth; babies are not made with divine intervention; like good dates, fucking is required to make them. Pro sports + drugs = competition (and the spectacle of unreasonable human performance); fans kind of require this.
Once, in the 1990s, they tested for steroids in the NFL. Did anyone care or listen? Gosh, let’s not step on the toes of hero-worship and label adoration. Lite beer: Keep believing.