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Cancer: The Pail
Eight years ago Lance Armstrong found out
that testicular cancer had spread to his lungs and
his brain. He was given less than a 40 percent
chance to survive. And that's the day when the
old Lance became the new Lance. Lance
Armstrong created his own monster out of his
humiliation, his fears and his pain, as well as a
heart almost a third larger than average, a resting
pulse of 32 beats a minute that can accelerate
beyond 200, and lungs that can consume record
amounts of oxygen. From such materials he cre
ated the greatest athlete of our time.
Let's demystify here: Lance gets too much
credit for “beating" cancer. Medical science did
that. He beat something considerably tougher, the
brutal treatment for his cancer and the tendency
to become a victim who'll take the easy pass. He
became a survivor and more - he built on that
pain, too. Suddenly, riding 2100 miles on a
bicycle didn't seem so hard anymore.
In 1999, when he won the Tour de France
(probably the most demanding major sports event
in the world), his victory was described as one of
the greatest comebacks in sports history. But it
was far more than that, because he had never won
it before. He was not "coming back" to where he
had once been; at 25, he was a world-class rider
but had simply never fulfilled his potential. He
was said to be uncoachable, lacking in discipline.
He was brash and raced disrespectfully. His char
acter was in question; he failed to finish most of
the Tours de France he'd entered. He needed
cancer to find out just how tough he really was:
the best ever.
Unfortunately, the phrase "best ever"
threatens to detach him from his central
humanity; the trouble with becoming a sports
immortal is that it puts him at a remove. That's
the last thing Armstrong wants, because to him,
his most essential quality is his most ordinary
one. What's permanently important about
Armstrong is what binds him to the rest of us: He
has suffered. He has been sick, and wounded, and
tired with cancer.
Steroids find Such
Greg LeMond is a respected figure in the world
of cycling, and he says that Lance is on steroids.
Maybe he's just jealous because he only won the
Tour three times. All I know is that the French
(press) believe LeMond's account. Americans
don't. We believe Lance, who denies ever taking
performance-enhancing drugs. This debate raises
an interesting question concerning racism in
sports (and race is always issue, even when it's
not). These days, most people have concluded
(logically) that Barry Bonds and Marion Jones
(and every other American athlete) are taking
steruids. Why don't we jump to that conclusion
with Lance even though all the signs indicate he
is a doper?
Well, a lot has to do with the fact that he
had cancer. We can't believe Lance would know
ingly pump that kind of poison into his body
after the suffering he went through when he was
sick. But just imagine if the tables were turned
and Barry Bonds was a cancer survivor and Lance
Armstrong was a dominant, but prickly and
healthy, black athlete. Right now Lance is the
third most famous athlete in America and makes
more money in endorsements ($20 million) than
every other athlete besides Tiger Woods and
Michael Jordan. Would he really be embraced like
this if he were black and had never had cancer?
Remember that we are talking about a cyclist
here, a sport in which less than one percent of
Americans participate or even watch. While it's
tough to distinguish between racism and com
passion (kind of like Bush's policies, huh?), I
would guess that if Lance were a black cyclist he
wouldn't be making more money (i.e., be more
popular) than Shaq. But that's all pure specula
tion, based loosely on my experiences in life and
500 years worth of history.
However hard the urge is to simplify him for
mass consumption, other issues that make this
story so rich and interesting can't be ignored. One
is that Lance is an American winning the Tour de
France, the nation's premier event That's probably
the equivalent of pissing on the French flag, or at
least in their onion soup. The French are noto
rious for loving second place (those tragic losers),
but that is compounded even more when the dom
inant champion is an American. Lance has had to
deal with everything from death threats to con
stant heckling to being drenched with urine
during his six-year quest. What's even more
amazing is that much of the time he has been at
odds with the French press. Lance refuses to
acknowledge them and, in return, they publish
editorials accusing him of being like another
fellow Texan, George W. Bush: brutish, arrogant,
unintelligent and a doper. He even had a
reporter try to break into his hotel room
earlier this year to "prove" that Lance was
taking steroids. The French have a lot of
love for Lance, but there is also a lot of
hating going on. What's dangerous (for his
critics, at least) is the way Lance reacts to all the
drama that surrounds him.
"All that stuff motivates me even more," he
says. Lance has learned to use the distractions to
his advantage, and that's what makes this story
even more amazing and inspiring. Just as he did
with cancer, he learned that something good
could always come from something bad. Lance
remembers every bit of criticism and slander and
uses it as a tool to help him dominate his compe
tition.
lance Illas Here
It wasn't that long ago that Lance Armstrong
was in Athens. I remember waking up early on
April 24 to see him race a leg of the Tour of
Georgia. I got real close to him; close enough to
see that he wasn't an impressive athletic figure
in stature (only about 5'8"). But what I did see
that impressed me was his face. It's the same
face I saw during the mountain stages of the
Tour de France, a look that oozed intense deter
mination and concentration, a look of fearless
ness. At times during the Tour, I got the feeling
that Lance was toying with the other cyclists,
sometimes allowing them to win a stage and
other times denying them the chance, all based
upon his whims.
It will be interesting now to see whether
Armstrong remains motivated. He's spent so much
of his life in embattled striving, whether in
fighting illness, or competing in the grueling Tour.
For years, Armstrong has carefully weighed every
morsel of pasta he put in his mouth, and denied
himself basic comforts in pursuit of Tour titles. He
has spent months away from his family, lived an
almost monkish life. He has elevated the race with
cutting-edge training methods and technology,
turning it into an almost scientific undertaking.
He has probably made the race look too easy. Few
people, perhaps no one, can understand the toll
the race has taken on him. The thinness of his
face and the jutting of his cheekbones only sug
gest it.
Lance says he has mastered the Tour de France
and will probably skip it next year. Now that he
has won six in a row he says he wants to "round
out his resume" and concentrate on winning some
other cycling competitions. I think he just wants
to let someone else win the Tour de France. Either
that or Sheryl Crow already has him whipped. If
Lance doesn't participate in the Tour next year, I
doubt I'll watch any of it. He is one of the most
compelling figures I have ever seen in sports; no
one will be able to fill his shoes. And if sports is
about striving for excellence, about having a sin
gular focus and a relentless will to win, Lance
Armstrong can stand alongside anyone who has
hit a ball, run a race or nailed a jumper. Perhaps
local artist Kate Zimmerman sums it up best:
"Because of Lance, yellow is the new black."
Daniel S. Whitman
Daniel S. Whitman is a performance artist and
freelance journalist whose most recent Flagpole
piece recounted standing in line at the Reagan wake.
He can be contacted at dwhitman@yahoo.com.
He has suffered. He has been sick, and
wounded, and tired with cancer.
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