Thursday, August 30, 2012

Phil Liggett...

Phil Liggett has been called "The Voice of Cycling" for what seems like an eternity. I concur for several reasons. First, his understated  enthusiasm blended perfectly with a sport that, unless you're a fan, is as exiting to watch on TV as a bloated politician's prostrate exam. Second, he was pretty much all we had. David Duffield, who was put out to pasture some years ago, was horrid in ways that have yet to manifest themselves in any other profession. Now we have David Harmon and Sean Kelly on Eurosport, who though not prone to going off on tangents unrelated to the action they're commentating on that made Duffield a legend, they still suck. Thankfully some of us who speak Spanish have the cats over on the channel from Spain, who are not only enthusiastic and knowledgeable, they don't grate the ears like these two.

Liggett is the man I identify most with professional cycling. His work with the World Cycling Productions company brought these obscure European races right to the doorsteps of cycling fans in the Western Hemisphere, and for that we must be eternally grateful. They started out with VHS tapes, some of which I still have because many of those earleir races weren't transferred to DVD. I collected them all, and Liggett commentated on every single one, eventually joined by the insufferable Paul Sherwen. One could deal with Sherwen's inanity knowing Phil was holding it down for the most part, despite the fact that he mispronounced names and got dates wrong all the time. Liggett showed admiration and respect to riders who did well without the obsequiousness that made it impossible to listen to him during the Armstrong years. After 1999, I decided enough was enough and lost interest in the Tour, while my passion for watching other races waned considerably to the point where I hardly know who is out there racing.

Cycling became boring for other reasons-it became overly-regimented, with idiotic rules about time trial frames and bike weights that stunted the creativity of manufacturers of racing bikes. Through it all there was Phil, Paul and the too-stupid-to-live Bob Roll fighting over who would slobber all over Lance Armstrong's testicle the hardest. During this time the racing suffered immensely on all fronts. Bike design became more and more homogeneous to the point where all top-end frames are of one material (carbon), and are made in one of three factories in Asia utilizing the same three molds (small/medium, extra-medium, and too-big-for-an-extra-medium/too-small-for-a-large, a size many manufacturers don't even make).

Liggett with (left to right) Paul Sherwen and Bob Roll.

Liggett decided that, with age catching up to him, he might as well whore himself wholeheartedly while the going was good. The number of speaking engagements increased while the fees for said engagements went up. Because of his affiliation with Armstrong, he was more in demand than ever. Liggett even got to catch some of the Armstrong VIP vapors with free rides in the ol' private jet, which is now on sale along with his house in Austin, Texas. (I must admit the house is beautiful and tastefully appointed, but Armstrong, being the cornball that he is, wasn't the one who decorated it so he gets no style points).

There comes a point in a man's life where diginity and self-respect go flying out the window when a trunkload of cash is on offer. All one has to do is compromise one's dignity and become a groupie. I always thought the groupie mentality was the sole recourse of idiotic teenage girls. When I first watched clips of screaming bitches falling all over themselves whenever Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley or the Beatles appeared, I thought it was something in the psychological makeup of women that made them lose their minds over some jackass they'll never get close to in a million years. But apparently men suffer from this, too, and it is all the more egregious. It is such a violation of the "Man Code" that anyone found guilty of partaking should do a stint on Devil's Island if it ever re-opens.

The three Stooges of pro cycling, Phil, Paul and Bob, don't care. They take to their task with unmitigated glee, as if we should all be jealous that they get to suck Armstrong' cock on television and we don't. How utterly emasculating. But whores always come up cheap in the end. They are in direct opposition to those who garner friendships with unquestioned loyalty through years of mutual trust. They are paid to take it up the ass, and they let everyone know they love it.

But this time Liggett has gone too far. In his latest interview, he donned his tin hat and sat looking into the stars for an alien spaceship to drop Bigfoot onto his lap. He accused the USADA of paying people huge sums of money to testify they witnessed Armstrong taking PED's. First of all, the USADA is funded by the Federal Government and are operating on a tight budget as it is. Where in the world would they get money to pay people off? Ah,  but it gets worse. Here is but a snippet of his vomitorious bile-

“I met a chap who worked with Armstrong on Saturday in Boulder, Colorado. He told me that he has a visit two years ago….there were agents from a particular agency. They said ‘will you tell us that Lance Armstrong took EPO, and we can assure you that you will never want for money again?’ He told them in words I can’t put on radio what to do with that,” he claimed. “They said, ‘I think we are talking to the wrong man,’ and walked away.” 

He then went on to suggest that USADA’s witnesses, who are thought to include current and former riders and who testified under oath, may have deliberately lied.“I believe these ten witnesses, who have all admitted apparently to seeing Lance take drugs or selling drugs or passing them on, and they themselves taking drugs…the reason they are witnesses is that they have either been paid or they have been given a deal that they will never be touched as far as suspensions go,” he said. “As this case has gone on so long, the vast majority of them are already retired. It is a filthy business, lets put it that way.”

As for the USADA, here's what he has to say about them and their investigation-

“Why is USADA, which is a nefarious local drugs agency in the United States, so intent?” he said. 

A nefarious local drugs agency...check this motherfucker out. I guess he got Travis Tygart confused with "Fat Pat" McQuaid of the UCI. Here is the USADA's response-

Contacted by VeloNation about Liggett’s claims, USADA issued a response. “It is blatantly false information from someone who has never had the courtesy to contact USADA for truthful and accurate information,” said its spokesperson Annie Skinner.

What the fuck happened to this guy? Has he gone insane? Apparently so. His iconic voice will forever be ingrained in the hearts and minds of cycling-mad North Americans who remember the good ol' days of the
1980's-late 1990's, when professional cyclists were true characters. Now we are stuck with uber-specialists who save themselves for one specific race all season while all other races, beautiful in their own right, are relegated to either training sessions for the Tour de France or desperate attempts at snagging a contract for next season.

Very few races on the calendar are raced in their own right for the simple prestige of winning said race. This is sad. The only reason we are having such an amazing spectacle at this year's Vuelta a España is Alberto Contador was banned for the first six months of this year and has come back just in time to challenge for the overall. But that's life. Some things change, and not always for the better. Thankfully I have those races from back in the day to remind me when cycling was enjoyable to watch, and Phil Liggett's commentary was a big reason those races will never be tiresome to watch. Unfortunately for many of us, Liggett has decided to take a political stance on the biggest sporting fraud this side of the East German Olympic doping program in the 1970's, and he has never been so wrong in his life.

I can only assume he won't be reading Tyler Hamilton's book, whose release date has been moved up to September 5th of 2012, coinciding with Pat McQuaid's birthday. I'm sure it will make a nice gift for that corpulent, flatulent drunkard. But Liggett should get a copy also. I'm sure he'll appreciate the irony of reading all about his hero and how much he had to dope to win his beloved Tour de France.

Saturday, August 25, 2012


It's official. The USADA has announced Lance Armstrong will be stripped of all his Tour wins from 1999-2005 and is banned from racing for L-I-F-E. This is not only for his egregious doping, which evidence will soon prove was of epic proportions, but also for aiding and abetting, procuring, and trafficking. He wasn't just a doper-he was a supplier who cajoled and bullied his teammates into doing likewise.

He took the only road left to him-deciding not to go to arbitration and then denying the USADA the jurisdiction to sanction him. His lawyer Bill Herman made a statement saying if they dare strip him of his Tour titles, they will sue the USADA in Federal court. This is a convenient ruse that has his fanboys up in arms but fools no one. In a vain attempt to control the narrative, he has tried and failed to control the proceedings by filing a lawsuit challenging the jurisdiction of the USADA. Then he used Livestrong lobbyists to garner support in Congress to undermine the efforts of the USADA. He's tried EVERYTHING, but this time nothing worked. In the press conference where he made his announcement, he martyred himself so his base of idiot fanboys and apologists will never leave his side. Must be comforting knowing the only assholes who believe in him are just like him.

It's come time for him to pay the piper, and getting stripped of his Tour wins will be the least of his worries.

I'm not going to get into the bullshit about all the good he's done for cancer. This doesn't make him noble or particularly magnanimous, and it just so happens to not be true. From the very start, his cancer foundation has been about selling vaporware to annoying groupies who gleefully suck on the magic yellow cock with one testicle, selling plastic yellow wristbands so the lemmings can proudly and publicly proclaim their admission into the tribe without actually doing anything worthwhile for cancer research.

It reminds me of those obnoxious, entitled 20-somethings I met during an AIDS walk in New York City. I was asked why I don't walk for a good cause-I said curing AIDS isn't about finding a magical cure. It's about curbing irresponsible sexual behavior and stopping the enforced sexual enslavement and rape of poor women all over the world. Walking ain't going to do that. One of the responses I received was, "Yeah, but it's about awareness, duuuude...Besides, walking raises money for the cause..."

Awareness my ass. Knowing how non-profits and other charities spend their contributions, I don't really care to donate. Some of these charitable organizations have CEO's with six-figure incomes, all derived from donations. I'd rather walk, thank you very much. It's been chronicled how Armstrong uses his charity to direct traffic to his for-profit site so he can continue to market himself, and very little if any of the money raised by Livestrong goes into actual cancer research, where the real fight against cancer takes place. But that ain't gonna last too long once the world gets a load of just what he did to win all those Tour de France titles.

Part of the process going forward is the USADA has to hand over whatever evidence it collected to the UCI  so they can formally strip Armstrong of his victories. The UCI is in a bind because if they do, they run the risk of having someone like Armstrong spill the beans about the corrupt nature of their relationship, which includes but is not limited to making positive dope tests disappear. If they don't, the IOC will be up Pat McQuaid's ass like a proctologist and pro cycling will be removed as an event from the Olympics. The UCI cannot affords this because they derive a large portion of their funding from the IOC and the Olympic Games.

The stories are already being fed to the media, and the USADA will release a statement this coming Thursday that may include some of the malfeasances Armstrong was involved in that caused them to proceed with filing charges against him and his whole crew of degenerates. We are going to have corroboration of blood doping during his 2009 "Comeback 2.0" that was supposedly all about cancer awareness, the steroids and bags of blood stored in his home in Girona, Spain, and more of this-

To add perspective to this sorry tale of hubris and ego run amok, Travis Tygart, CEO of the USADA, had given Armstrong plenty of opportunity to salvage his reputation and keep most of his Tour titles. The deal was this-come clean about EVERYTHING and we will only strip you of your last two titles, thereby respecting the statute of limitations. But the SOL was superseded due to the massive extent of the cover-up, of which Armstrong played a major role.

The deal entailed Armstrong ratting out Hein Verbruggen and "Fat" Pat McQuaid, the previous and current heads of the UCI. He decided not to. Armstrong can still compete one day if he wants. The lifetime ban from competition of his beloved triathlons, where he mistakenly thought a second career as a perpetual, aging HgH-fueled yuppie jock awaited him, would be lifted if he just stopped fucking lying and told the truth.

The systematic corruption of the UCI is what is at the heart of the matter. Keep in mind what a cop from the Al Pacino film "The Panic in Needle Park" once said to a junkie he was trying to turn-"You rat up, you never rat down". Armstrong had to rat his superiors out, the ones he was in cahoots with at the highest levels, the ones that protected him and made positive doping tests disappear like magic. Here is a quote from Tygart explaining the options he laid out to Needle Boy Lance-

The agency would've reduced Armstrong's punishment "if he would have been truthful and willing to meet to help the sport move forward for the good," Tygart says. "Of course, this is still possible and we always remain open, because while the truth hurts, ultimately, from what we have seen in these types of cases, acknowledging the truth is the best way forward."-Travis Tygart, USADA

Paul Kimmage, the Irish sportswriter for the Sunday Times of London and author of the seminal, if somewhat dated, book on doping in the peloton called "Rough Ride", chimed in about the corruption and complicity of the UCI and how it played into the hands of Armstrong during his seven-year reign of terror at the Tour-

If Kimmage has one nagging regret about Armstrong's decision not to contest the USADA charges, it's that some of the evidence might not make it into the public domain and so may prove difficult to truly assess the level to which the UCI was complicit in the American's story. Nonetheless, he feels that the UCI's heavy-handed attempts to seize jurisdiction of the Armstrong case from USADA in the past month were a stark indictment of its' mindset over the past decade and beyond.

Even by their own miserable standards, the UCI have absolutely disgraced themselves this last month-they had that statement from McQuaid during the Tour saying they were going to leave it totally up to the USADA and then the very next day theyr'e sending off letters trying to wrest jurisdiction of the process," Kimmage says. "I mean, my God, come on! Come on!"

It seems as if George Hincapie, the closest thing to a brother Armstrong had on the road (which begs the question, "What type of asshole was George if he got along so well with someone no one liked?"), was the tipping point in terms of testimony given to the USADA. It's one thing to discredit cats like Floyd Landis and Tyler Hamilton, who are indeed liars and lied their asses off when they were caught doping. But it's quite another to attempt to discredit the one guy who rode with Armstrong throughout all seven Tours and is one of the most well-respected members of the pro peloton-

I leave the last word to the one and only Bernard Hinault, who retired at the age of 32 with plenty of miles still left in his legs and has never ridden a bike professionally since, just as he promised he would do. As an ubiquitous staff member of the Tour organization and prominent podium presenter, he was there to witness first-hand all seven Armstrong victories. In the inimitable style that earned him the nickname "Le Blaireau" ("The Badger" in English) he retorted when asked about this situation-"I don't give a fuck. It's not my problem. This should have been taken care of 10 or 15 years ago". Absolutely right.

Bernard Hinault, seen here not giving a flying fuck about Lance Armstrong...

While you're waiting for more sordid details to enter the public domain, let me remind you now is a good time to go to the World Cycling Productions site and shop for your favorite Lance Armstrong Tour DVDs. They are currently on sale. Pick them up before he disappears into irrelevance. Or wait until after Christmas when they'll probably be half the current sale price of $29.99 per video.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Tyler Hamilton's Book on Sale 9/18/2012...

Tyler Hamilton, the disgraced American cyclist who tested positive for PED's not once but twice during his career, has written a book about his life in the peloton. The second time he got busted for DHEA while with the US domestic Rock Racing team, he said he'd write a book one day about his days as a professional rider, and cryptically stated there was a definite "mafia" in cycling. No one knows what's in the book or what topics are touched upon in depth, but there are many who are expecting a tell-all that delves into the underbelly of the sport and the use of steroids and blood doping.

Hamilton has credibility issues galore. His record in this regard speaks for itself-lying about doping, soliciting funds from the public for a ridiculous defense, and never coming clean about the doping issues revolving around the 2004 Olympics road race and that years' Vuelta a España a few weeks later. He was caught for blood doping because he transfused someone elses' blood, the same thing that Alexander Vinokourov was busted for.

This means the doctor who was overseeing the transfusion messed up. Who was the doctor? How was the blood stored that they got the bags mixed up? These are the details I want to see addressed. I've said this in a previous post, but the depression Hamilton says he suffers from HAS to be a direct consequence of what we know to be some seriously prodigious drug use. The PED calendar from the year Tyler won Leige-Bastogne-Liege and the Tour of Romandie from Dr. Fuentes of Spain tells a story that needs elucidation. And why payments to this doctor were made by Tyler's wife using her maiden name.

Tyler with then-wife Haven Hamilton-

Ekimov, Hamilton and Bobby Julich at the 2004 Olympic road race...

Lots of questions need answering, and Hamilton's co-writer Dan Coyle, author of "Lance Armstrong's War", was given unprecedented access to Tyler Hamilton, gathering 200 hours worth of interviews with the subject. There has been plenty of self-righteous indignation revolving around Hamilton and his intentions, basically the same bullshit we've been hearing ever since Tyler decided to go on the investigative TV program "60 Minutes" to tell America their hero, Lance Armstrong, was a con artist and a fraud. No need to rehash that bullshit here, because this will not become a vehicle for idiotic trolls and fanboys to denigrate a rider who's already been through enough. He's paid a heavy price to make his sporting dreams come true, and now that everything has been taken from him, it's time to let the man speak on his own terms.

Lance Armstrong's reaction when he found out Hamilton wrote a book detailing drug use in the pro peloton-

Lance Armstrong isn't the only one who gets to set the narrative on what went on in cycling during the years he dominated the peloton, and it's been that way for far too long. His story, if there is any justice in this world, will follow right behind Hamilton's. And as the release of the book falls on Armstrong's birthday, this tells me that Tyler has the type of sense of humor we appreciate here on "Busting Chops"*.

*The release date for the book has been moved up to September 5th, 2012. I guess Tyler Hamilton's publishers were either threatened with a lawsuit by Armstrong or they are looking to take advantage of the anti-Armstrong zeitgeist that is swarming around us cycling fans right about now. Either way, it's always good to be able to read it sooner rather than later. 

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Ocho Stink-o...

Chad Johnson, the 34-year old NFL wide receiver who nicknamed himself "Ocho Cinco" a few years ago , has managed to screw his life up about as completely as one can in the span of only a couple of days. First, he head-butts his "wife" (I'll get to her in a minute) during a domestic squabble over a receipt for a box of condoms that apparently were not meant for her, gets arrested for misdemeanor domestic violence, loses his contract for a reality show, gets cut by the only NFL team willing to take a chance on an aging veteran with diminishing skills, and will now see his wife in divorce court after she filed for separation 41 days after they married. That is longer than Noah had his ark sailing across the clear blue seas by one day, and he had a lot more animals to take care of than Johnson, who couldn't keep this heifer in line without losing his temper.

We are going to break down each incident and in the end you be the judge.

1) Chad Johnson gets into a fight with his hoochie reality-star tramp of a wife over a receipt for a box of condoms. If anyone is familiar with this woman, you'll say the same thing I said-"Just what the world needs-another Puerto Rican tramp from the Bronx who's on TV getting rewarded to exhibit her psychotic ghetto tendencies". Yet here she is, leading the conga line to easy money by emasculating yet another prominent sports figure. She's a veteran at this, having been at Antoine Walker's side when times were good and promptly leaving him when he went broke. It was an embarrassment of epic proportions having this trollop as a participant in the Puerto Rican Day Parade. Why not have her on a float alongside Vanessa del Rio so young impressionable Puerto Rican girls can see how to make it big in life with dignity and class?

Look what I got for being a slut? My very own shoe store!!!

2) The subsequent arrest marks the second time Johnson has had a run-in with the law over domestic violence. The first was in college and he married the girl he allegedly beat down. He has managed to maintain his focus during his pro football career, only being a minor nuisance with typical wide receiver displays of arrogance and diva-like behavior. But like Herman Edwards of ESPN stated, teams will look at Johnson and make an assessment whether the off-the-field drama is worth the production. It isn't. Johnson had his worst year last year with the New England Patriots, running around the field like a wounded jackrabbit, while not knowing any of the plays and illustrating that not even a quarterback like Tom Brady can make a receiver look good if said receiver is incompetent and not focused.

3) Johnson and his wife lost their reality show soon after this incident, and I cannot say I'm surprised. If there is no marriage, why would anyone want to see two losers fighting over the dust of whatever finances he has left? Lozada's been here before, having been entangled with one of the most egregious cautionary tales of financial malfeasance this side of Mike Tyson. She was engaged to Boston Celtics' forward Antoine Walker, who at the age of 36 is broke after going through a reported $110 million dollars in salary via bad investments, supporting loser friends, useless family members and whores like Evelyn Lozada.

The couple in more dignified times...

...and again as trashy B-List celebu-whores. 

Ah, but check out what this bitch does...when Walker was filing for bankruptcy, she sells the engagement ring he bought her to open up a shoe store in Miami instead of giving the ring back so he could raise some badly needed cash. What type of repugnant skank does this? The type that inhabits the world of reality television. This is one of the few times I am hoping Johnson gets taken to the cleaners in the divorce settlement. Maybe morons like him will finally learn their lesson on how to find quality women to share their lives with.

Evelyn Lozada is not marriage material. She is the type you take to the hotel room for a strip tease before she gives lap dances and blowjobs to all your boys. When you're done filming her taking it in the ass, toss her into the swimming pool from the balcony, however many floors up you may be. That's about what she's worth. And if she gets feisty, bury her alive, bound and gagged, in a shallow grave "pa' que no joda". Believe me, no one will care enough to file a missing person's report.

Evelyn Lozada walking down the aisle dressed in white, despite a lifetime spent handling more cocks than a henhouse...

4) Johnson married a whore who makes her living as a vulture, jumping from one emotionally unstable athlete to another, taking whatever she possibly can and then jumping ship. When she decided to bail out on Johnson after only 41 days, a marriage that was as fictional as the Kardashian/Humphries fiasco, that pretty much sums up the plotline for the abandoned television project. I'm shocked she's gotten this far without ever  getting head-butted in a previous relationship. She's so royally despicable, if I were Chad Johnson I would have torn her forehead open with my teeth like George "The Animal" Steele ripping through a turnbuckle.

Lozada as a teenage "cuero del diablo", happily mugging for the camera. Not exactly a natural beauty unless you're into farm animals-

5) And last but certainly not least, Johnson is unemployed and unemployable at the age of 34. Sure, he may have something left in the tank. But in the NFL skill position players can be replaced with relative ease. There are conferences in Division-I college football that recruit speed up and down their lineups, where a 4.3 forty yard dash will barely get you through the door. So why does any NFL team need an asshole like Chad Johnson? Let's not forget what he said during a press conference during his short stint with Miami, that when his playing days are over he's going into porn and his wife would have no say-so in the matter because he's the one bringing home the bread.

Good-bye, Chad. And remember, there's always waiting to sign you to an exclusive contract if no one in the NFL is interested in your services. Or give TT Boy a call over at Evasive Angles. He always has an opening for another porn stud due to the fact that he has an actor test positive for HIV almost every other week.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Doping Positive at the Gran Fondo New York...

Ladies and gentlemen, we have now seen everything in this ridiculous sport of ours. An aging yuppie caught doping with EPO for a race whose main purpose, when it officially entered the lexicon of cycling culture, was supposed to be for fun and comradery. For those who don't know, Gran Fondos began in Europe and took in epic stages of the Tours of Italy and France. Many European countries have races for amateurs over professional course routes (like the Spring Classics), but they are amended for the purpose of non-competitive amateurs and enthusiasts. In other words, you don't necessarily need to be like Frank Vandenbrouke and train over the Col de la Redoute in the big chainring to be able to climb it with your mates.

These Gran Fondos are big business, and have taken hold here across the pond with the usual mix of obnoxious hyper-competitiveness and extremely high entrance fees. I know closing a portion of the George Washington Bridge costs money, but there are more economic ways to hold such events where doing something as bombastic as that is not a necessity. In Europe, bike companies like Pinarello sponsor these events, and there are categories for riders of all ages and abilities.

Problem is, prize money and other enticements became part of the mix. You had unrepentant serial dopers like disgraced ex-pro Raimundas Rumsas making a living doing these rides, being sponsored as individual riders by companies looking for the type of publicity success in such an event can garner. Suddenly, the comraderie and the opportunity to meet up with like-minded individuals from all over the world to ride portions of these great races was replaced with cutthroat competition.

David Anthony in repose, seemingly without a care in the world-

As an example of how wacked-out these races have become, the prizes on offer at this particular Gran Fondo were worth a total of $100,000 US dollars, with first prize being an $8,000 Pinarello carbon frame. For the sake of comparison, third place at the prestigious Fleche Wallone race in Belgium pulls in a mere $4,000 bucks. The race spent a total of $17,000 on it's anti-doping efforts just to catch two assholes who race in the Master's division. David Anthony was one of these assholes.

Much has been made of the internet confession on by this latest idiota, one David Anthony, who tested positive for EPO at the Gran Fondo New York, which took place on May 20th of this year. We have been subjected to the spectacle of his existential angst, how the more he doped and won, the less he found meaning in his victories. Pu-leaze. One thing about pricks like him is that cheating comes as naturally as breathing, so no sympathy for whatever was eating at his hollow soul. What should be illuminating is the extent of his obsession.

Anthony in action at the Harlem Criterium-

Anthony ran the gamut of your typical hyper-competitive middle-aged douchebag who takes up cycling as a hobby but quickly morphed into an unhealthy obsession-heart rate monitior, power meter, carbon frame, carbon aero wheels, and coach. In addition to all that  he purchased a hypoxic altitude tent that simulates oxygen at whatever-thousand feet it takes to increase hematocrit levels and hence decrease brain cells. He even went so far as to pay for time in a fucking wind tunnel to hone his position on the bike, and he STILL SUCKED!!!. All of this costs thousands of dollars. THOUSANDS. And that's without the drugs. He started as a Cat 5 and couldn't get enough, so he started doping when things got really tough for him as a CAT 3, which should have been the ceiling of his natural progression as a cyclist. But he wasn't satisfied with that, so he turned to doping.

He was caught because he was stupid. Forget about the fact that races like this now have doping controls, which is ridiculous enough. But the fact that this dumb-ass didn't monitor his program carefully enough to evade getting caught at a Gran Fondo speaks volumes. No one who claims to be so smart can be so stupid. Maybe he was looking to get caught. Maybe this was his way of crying out for help...

Somehow I don't think so.

He is currently recovering from  a compound fracture of his femur from an accident while out on the road, and supposedly this time off has given him pause to reassess his goals and how he was living his life. He has received a two-year ban from competition and maybe he'll use this time to get his head straight, but I doubt it. I feel bad that he suffered such an injury, but I don't feel bad about his suspension. This is the type of crap cyclists like him pull every single day. I've met them-self-righteous, vain, and always willing to regale anyone within listening distance with tales of how "hard" they work. They always leave out the part about the performance-enhancing drugs, because they have managed to convince themselves that the drugs only aid them in bringing out their natural talents to the fore, when the reality is there was never any real talent there to begin with.

Anthony stated that as a CAT 3 racer, he was getting shelled out the back despite his best efforts to improve naturally. That's because at age forty-two there is no natural progression. Amateur cycling is the only sport where nonsensical, physiological impossible feats are given serious credence by those who partake. This is because aggressive, Type-A personalities like Anthony can't fathom not being top dog at anything they do. They believe whatever success they've achieved in their work-related lives automatically translates over to athletics if they just work hard enough. That hard work includes cheating, but don't tell them that. If PED's don't register on their power meters as watts per kilogram, then they're not trying.

Good riddance, pal. Here's to hoping you'll manage to re-calibrate your priorities during your forced vacation from competitive cycling. There's more to life than winning at Battenkill. And if you have to dope to accomplish this goal, then it's not really an accomplishment, even if you're racing against other doped racers.