appConfigEntityId

bodyType

customContents

entityId

entityUuid

articlePageQuery

filter

article

articleBaseAdvertisingInfoArticle

articleListArticle

articleSeoArticle

hooksArticleAcknowledgementGateOverlayArticle

hooksTrackPageViewArticle

hooksContentInterestArticle

articleLinkingDataContent

hooksAmpRedirectArticle

articleSchemaContent

hooksArticlePageAdvertisementConfigArticle

liveArticle

appConfig

advertZone

sentiment

contentLock

topics

types

sections

paywallTypes

createdDate

publishedDate

sponsorType

urlAlias

moreOnThisArticles

sectionsV2

commentCount

authorLocations

authors

corrections

displaySlideShow

multimediaEmbed

printHeadline

seriesContainer

articleSpeeches

socialHeadline

headline

images

flag

firstTopic

glossary

flattenTypeIds

image

relatedLinks

relatedNewsletters

__typename

sponsor

pdfFiles

seriesReverseOrder

series

disableOffPlatformContent

published

updatedDate

summary

subHeadline

body

keywords

readingTime

customTimezone

liveContents

json

Tim Noonan

It's not that I didn't want to believe Floyd Landis, it's that I never really thought I had to.

The most unlikely of Tour de France champions makes a most unlikely comeback and how could you not be moved by this heartening tale? In hindsight, I guess my first reaction should have been, well hang on, wait until we see the B sample.

Landis  yesterday lost  his Tour de France crown in what should have been a spectacular doping case but is becoming more and more routine by the day.

I mean, I'm not sure if you noticed, but over 50 other cyclists, including the second and third-placed finishers  from last year's Tour de France, were implicated in a wide ranging doping probe in Spain on the eve of this year's race, forcing massive withdrawals.

And the co-holder of the 100 metres world record, Olympic champion Justin Gatlin, has also tested positive for drugs. Landis says he was naturally producing high levels of testosterone, while Gatlin's people say a vindictive masseur applied steroids  in a cream form.

Whatever. I don't know the truth and neither do you.

And I promise to have an open mind. Seriously. But I also promise to think the worst when it comes to sports these days because I am entitled to.

We should be allowed to think that every rider in the Tour de France is using some sort of performance enhancer, just as we should be able to think that every track star who sets a record is doping in one form or another.

And we should also be able to do it with impunity and with no need for apology.

You should be able to believe what you want to believe and in this case you would be warranted.

Where there's smoke there's fire and right now there is a massive mushroom cloud of smoke hovering over the world of sports. For me, the Landis case is really the end of the innocence.

Regardless of the fact that I am cloaked in cynicism, I still naturally believed no one could be so stupid that they would dope up in the middle of the Tour when the race was already under a heavy cloud of suspicion.

Now that it has been established that Landis had an illegal boost to help him conquer the gruelling stage 17 of the 20-stage race, he must have contemplated the risk versus the reward. It's not the first time he was faced with such a dilemma.

This is a guy who grew up in a devout Mennonite family in a place called Farmersville, Pennsylvania.

Forbidden by his family to take part in cycling, he waited until the dark of evening and would ride while the family slept. If he got caught, so be it. Risk versus reward, he loved to ride.

Perhaps the same thought pattern was going through his mind after a couple of lacklustre stages left him trailing in the Tour. If I get caught, I get caught. I want to win this race.

We don't really spend much time studying the psychology of sports dopers, do we? Of course not, there's no time for that when we are too busy with our pious indignation.

In the end though, it's not about Landis. It's about me, it's about you. It's about us.

For so many of us getting on in years, sports are an important anchor to our past, to what seemed like simpler and happier times.

For someone to poison the games that defined your youth seems like sacrilege.

That's why the US government has spent millions of dollars and countless resources to prove that Barry Bonds' passing baseball deity Babe Ruth on the all-time home-run list was more pharmaceutical than athletic.

It's become a crusade and if agenda-driven politicians are your idea of protectors of the game, that's fine.

I think it's a pathetic spectacle of hypocrisy from every angle.

I reserve the right to think the worst and there are no amounts of denials from athletes nor crusades from officials that can change my mind.

If you want to believe that a 43-year-old Roger Clemens is pitching better and throwing harder than he was 10 years ago because of his hellacious work ethic, while a 40-year-old Barry Bonds is hitting more home runs than he did at the age of 30 because of performance enhancing drugs, go ahead. I don't, but you can.

That doesn't mean I won't watch a baseball game or the Tour de France.

I will. I just won't believe the feats I witness are because of natural hard work.

It's the reality I choose when indulging in the multi-billion-dollar world of sport these days.

For athletes, if you take the money, you take the suspicion as well.

And even though he has shaped my attitude, we can't blame it all on Floyd Landis.



Suspicion goes hand in hand with the glory for athletes