The Side Line
We get it, Lance Armstrong. We know you’re the greatest cyclist of all time.
We know you battled cancer and won, and came back to win seven consecutive Tours de France.
We have watched you bring cancer to the forefront of America’s psyche, and create an unfortunate trend of rubber bracelets along with it.
We cheered for each win, and supported you through a doping scandal.
Then you retired, supposedly for good. There was marriage and divorce drama with a certain singer, and we tossed you to the Hollywood crowd.
So it was; you would fade in time and we would remember you as a superhero among mortals.
So what’s this, Lance? A comeback? Really? Dude, you have nothing left to prove.
Like Michael Jordan before you and now Brett Favre, even the greatest should accept when the time is right to step away from his passion.
It is a joy as a sports fan to watch the greats perform at their highest level. Conversely, it is painful to see Michael Jordan hobble around on 40-year-old legs and brick shots he would have drained ten years earlier.
The same goes for you, Lance. You don’t realize that you will make a carnival show out of the world’s greatest bicycle race? Let the younger, talented riders have their moments to shine.
Biking for cancer awareness is a noble cause, sure. So find your local philanthropy and bike all you want.
Just please don’t compete in the Tour de France ever again. You will only end up like Mike, and not the one we all wanted to be.
Now don’t misinterpret this as Lance-bashing, because I was and somewhat still am a Lance Armstrong fan. I just get irritated with athletes who think they are bigger than the sport, even though in this case you are probably right.
Cycling without Lance Armstrong is like pop without Michael Jackson. But guess what? Pop music moved on, evolved into something else.
So too, should go the saga of Lance Armstrong. Leave the sport alone, Lance. You’ve done more than enough.