The Back Alley Archives

Lance Armstrong plans to admit to doping throughout his career during an upcoming interview with Oprah Winfrey, USA Today reported late Friday.

The interview, scheduled to be taped Monday and broadcast Thursday night on the Oprah Winfrey Network, will be conducted at Armstrong's home in Austin.

Citing an anonymous source, USA Today reported that the disgraced cyclist plans to admit to using performance-enhancing drugs but likely will not get into details of the allegations outlined in a 2012 report by the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency that led to Armstrong being stripped of his seven Tour de France titles and banned for life from the sport.

We are reaching a point where stormy anger over a set of allegations is so utterly standard that nobody hears it, and that raises the question: What are you supposed to do if you're the guy who's accused of using performance-enhancing drugs and you actually didn't? Or the guy who's accused of having sex with an intern and you actually didn't? You can stand up and object — I object, I really object, I very, very much object — but the more you object, the more you sound just like ... Lance Armstrong.

It's not just the offense that's offensive, and it's not even just the lying about the offense. It's the co-opting of the language of innocence. It's one thing to do something you shouldn't do; it's another thing to ape the gestures and the language and the rage that people feel when something really isn't true. To lie straightforwardly is just dishonest; to thunder about your innocence when you are guilty is to exploit your audience's darkest fears of being wrongly accused. It is to position yourself as the victim and to whisper to everyone listening that this could also happen to them, that you were just sitting here, minding your own business, busting your ass six hours a day, and this happened. The fear of people bearing false witness is so elemental that not doing it is a commandment. Harnessing it to make fools out of people makes them angry.


Winfrey probably asked a lot of questions when they taped yesterday about what precisely Armstrong did and didn't do — when, how much, how often, for how long. I honestly feel like I'd learn more from a good grilling about the denials. Because there's an argument that doping is victimless in sports where it's pervasive enough, but making it harder to believe anyone who denies anything has a perverse ability to harm innocent people exclusively.

When I sat down to watch Oprah Winfrey's interview of Lance Armstrong, I was looking to hear Armstrong say one thing.


He said it - and frankly he didn't waste much time getting to it.


I expected to hear Armstrong deny he took banned substances within the past five years, and specifically when he unretired in 2009 for two years. Armstrong made that denial, and for his legal team, this was probably one of the most important parts of the interview.


Here's the reason. The time limit to criminally prosecute someone for possession and distribution of steroids and banned substances (which is unlawful) is five years. So that means that Armstrong could admit to using banned substances back in 1999 and the early 2000s since he's comfortably outside the statute of limitations.

However, since the five-year limitation period has not expired in connection with his alleged drug use in 2009 and 2010, he could not admit to that. Effectively, Armstrong could admit to drug use, but he had to be careful associating it with a recent timeframe.


So, when Oprah asked him if he had used performance enhancing drugs in 2009 and 2010, he adamantly denied it, saying it was "not true" and that the last time, "I crossed the line…was 2005". This is despite USADA, the U.S. federal anti-doping agency, finding that it was not only likely that Armstrong used banned substances in 2009-10, but highly probable. In the view of USADA, Armstrong's test results provided a "compelling argument consistent with blood doping".


Overall, while Armstrong is not immune from criminal prosecution, his Oprah interview did not make things appreciably worse for him.


That's on the criminal side. However, on the civil side (suing for money), the interview hurt Armstrong because he incriminated himself. He admitted to using banned substances, bullying people and filing unsubstantiated lawsuits. In fact, when Oprah asked Armstrong if he had sued Emma O'Reilly, a masseuse for his cycling team who revealed in a book that Armstrong doped, his response was that he couldn't remember.


"To be honest, Oprah, we sued so many people I don't even," Armstrong said, then paused, "I'm sure we did."


His admission that he doped could well invite more civil lawsuits, while also encouraging current litigants to stay the course with their lawsuits against Armstrong.


SCA Promotions, a Dallas-based insurance company, paid Armstrong about $7.5 million in bonuses for his Tour de France wins in 2002, 2003 and 2004. SCA wants that money back on the basis that Armstrong breached his contract, which provided he could not dope. After watching the Oprah interview, SC may now have the incentive it needs to sue Armstrong.


In another case, the Sunday Times is looking to recover about $1.5 million it paid Armstrong to settle a defamation suit. The paper paid Armstrong that amount in 2006 to settle a case after it reprinted claims from a book that he took performance enhancing drugs. The interview only helps the case of the Sunday Times.


In yet another case, Floyd Landis is suing Armstrong and team managers for defrauding the U.S. government. Landis is alleging that they knowingly misled the government about taking performance enhancing drugs with a view to securing sponsorship from the U.S. Postal Service. On the representation that the team was clean, the U.S. Postal Service paid it $30.6 million between 2001 and 2004. If Armstrong and others lose this lawsuit, they could be ordered to pay back triple the amount paid under the contract, or about $100 million.


For Armstrong, this is all a bit of a legal minefield. He's unlikely to get any relief in the near future, and there is a possibility that he could find himself a lot lighter in the pocket book.

Of course, maybe we ought to rethink the very notion of integrity when it comes to drugs and sports. Performance enhancers of one form or another have been around forever, but not until the rise of anabolic steroids was there a doping crisis in sports.

There are many drugs doctors are legally permitted to administer to Tour de France riders. Why are some approved and others not? Why does cortisone—which alleviates pain and enhances performance—represent an acceptable level of pharmaceutical aid, but not, say, stanozolol? Then there's this absurd provision: Under the UCI's rules, cyclists are allowed to take hormone supplements if their health is in danger. In other words, PEDs are fine if a doctor says they're necessary.


Doping isn't a moral problem. It is a social, political and economic problem "misrepresented," in Hoberman's words, "as a function of the moral degeneracy of individual athletes."


Doping is also inevitable. As long as athletes can earn more money and glory by outperforming their competitors, we will never eliminate PEDs from the world of sports. Which leads us to a universal truth about drug use, one that applies equally to elite athletes and homeless junkies: There's no point in vilifying the user without also asking why he became one.


As it is, Lance Armstrong is just another reminder that we're failing in the War on PEDs in much the same way that we failed in the War on Drugs. After ignoring the widespread use of PEDs for years—in cycling's case, for decades—we started an expensive, no-holds-barred crusade for their prohibition, shaming users as moral degenerates and criminals.


Instead, let's pause to consider—if only for as long as Oprah Winfrey's two-night interview with Armstrong—the underlying reasons that steroids are so common in sports: Because we value winning above all else, and pay winners accordingly. Because we expect to see transcendent athletic performances with casual frequency. Because of the unrealistic physical demands of endurance sports. Because we have embraced performance-enhancing pharmaceuticals in virtually every other realm (the bedroom, the classroom, the battlefield, and so on).


The world's most famous doper is finally on record and presumably ready to cooperate with authorities. Let the outrage end—and the sensible conversation begin.