I must admit that I was thrilled and amazed every time [Lance Armstrong] would win another [Tour de France]—despite having absolutely no interest in the sport of bicycle racing in any way, shape or form. For he was an American beating the rest of the world in a sporting event that they held in much higher esteem than the vast majority of us did.
I would also rankle every time another accusation against him for doping would surface. For I considered it to be just more sore grapes and a gross miscarriage of justice to force him to have to defend himself time and again when there was obviously no legitimate evidence to be found against him. After all, had he not been gone over with a very fine-toothed comb after every race?
Oh, but I was just as deceived as thousands (millions, actually) of others. For I had no idea just how much power he wielded in the cycling community, which has come to light with the release of the [evidence] against him.
Alas, I do not want to look like I am piling on, but I must also admit that what started out as mere disdain over his reluctance to refute claims the “he” had beaten [testicular cancer] grew to near hatred over the years. For it was made more and more clearly apparent to me that he really did want to believe that he had beaten cancer in the same way as he had won seven-straight Tours de France, which was through sheer force of will, with very little consideration being given all of the support he had received—including medical treatments (not to mention it actually being our Heavenly Father who had done everything he was wanting to take credit for).
No, he would not be inclined to make any of that abundantly clear. For why would anyone want to donate to the [Livestrong Foundation] when even its founder was of the opinion that the research it was supposed to be all about funding was probably a waste of resources?
Could it be that Lance was actually wanting to make clones of himself? Surely not! For there could only be one of him—right? Please forgive me, but I hope so.
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