A week ago, Lance Armstrong trounced the competition yet again for his record sixth championship in the Tour de France, the premier event in cycling. Battling against cancer and critics, some say Armstrong has brought himself into the ranks of the greatest athletes ever. But many say he just rides a bicycle. Tim Heaney examines Armstrong’s place in the athletic world.
With the Democratic National Convention sweeping through Beantown last week, a renewed fervor of patriotism has captured the more liberal half of the country, promising a trend toward a united America. Presidential candidate John Kerry Vice repeated their message again, and again, and again: help is on the way.
But as politicians rhetorically swing for John Kerry and John Edwards for the White House, they do not realize that there may be a more fitting candidate for Washington? Have they ignored the one figure that, at this moment, captures what America truly stands for? John Kerry, as heroic as he may have been, has another idol to compete with for the hearts of Americans.
So, why not Lance Armstrong for president?
While Kerry promised to restore “credibility” for a “stronger America,” Lance Armstrong has reinstated just that to the image of the athlete. The lone star cyclist from the Lone Star State personifies a more American ideal than any jaw-jacking bureaucratic figurehead can offer. With his record sixth (and sixth straight) Tour de France win, Armstrong proved his determination is unmatched, his will, unbreakable, his legend, undeniable.
Lance shined through again as the humble, focused athlete that has garnered love and support from the likes of Sheryl Crow, to yours truly. People in all walks of life, regardless of their interest in cycling, truly admire him for his courage. But does the Tour de Lance qualify as a true athletic arena for competition to the likes of the Greatest, the Great One, and the Air Man?
Not too long ago, I flat-out declared that Michael Jordan, Muhammad Ali, and Wayne Gretzky were bar-none the top three athletes of all-time. At the same time, I heard very little of Lance Armstrong, American cyclist. My radar didn’t expand that far in the sports world. When I used to conjure images of great athletic feats in my head, I pictured a reverse lay-up against the Lakers in the 1991 NBA Finals, I pictured a record-breaking top-shelf goal, and I pictured a freak of nature standing over his fallen opponent in the center of the ring. I didn’t have an image of pedaling as an athletic peak.
But then I became aware of the turning point in his life. I learned of how he beat a more serious opponent – testicular cancer. Lance-o-Mania was born when he crossed the finish line ahead of the pack in 1999 down the Champs Elysses.
''I hope it sends out a fantastic message,'' he said after his first Tour victory. ''We can return to what we were before - and even better.''
I then saw him as Lance Armstrong, role model.
With an entire country behind him, and against him, his victory Sunday was a culmination of his rise in the athletic world. That’s right, the athletic world. He’s an athlete, no bones about it. I don’t know many people who can last 3395 km (that’s 2109.653 miles for those outside the loop) over three weeks with only two days off from racing. Besides the obvious physical pain and fatigue, maintaining a pace in such a long event provides such mental anguish that any normal human being would crumble at the drop of a dime.
Thus, I remain amazed when people don’t consider Lance an athlete. Calling Lance a non-athlete is like saying poker is a sport. I don’t care how intense poker may be; Chris Moneymaker may be great at a table, but let’s see him bike across France, or try to bluff an unforgiving mountain trail.
The truth is that people were waiting for a story like Armstrong’s to come along. The god-like image of athletes has dwindled the past decade. The epitome an active historic figure in the four major sports is Barry Bonds, a boastful loudmouth swirling in controversy over steroids.
And like all dominant athletes in today’s world, Lance has had his own bouts with the ‘s’ word. These last six years have brought hatred and constant allegations of doping from Europeans. Even former American cyclist Greg LeMond has brought illegal substances into the picture, claiming that Lance mentioned steroids to him on several occasions.
The opinion on Bonds is well known and heavily debated; the majority believes he is on steroids, and even his fans still hold his achievements in a cloud of uncertainty. With Lance, the possibility of him doping would be the public’s worst fear, because of his uplifting story. He has passed over 20 drug tests. And like Barry Bonds, those who accuse must have evidence. With Lance, they don’t.
Like Bonds, Armstrong’s place in the upper echelon of athletes is unique. The paradox here is unmatched; Lance is currently the country’s most popular athlete, in one of the nation’s least popular “sports”. This fact may be hard for some to swallow. There’s no Jordan, no Ali, no Gretzky. At first glance, Lance doesn’t fit into that category.
But whether or not people realize it, Armstrong has already made his place in that crowd. He has conquered literally every mountain in his path these past six years (one of those only being death). The fact that he may “only ride a bike” cannot deny his physical dominance. He is the next iron man, the next icon.
At this moment, Armstrong is without a doubt the most uplifting athlete. His yellow “Live Strong” bracelets have become synonymous in the sports world with the American flag that he races under. Armstrong instills in people around the world the ability to persevere under pressure, and to look fear and resistance in the eye, and to ride right over it.
Stage 15 of his record-breaking win exemplified his strategy for all of his races, whether against Ullrich or cancer: keep focus, remain patient, and make a move when everyone thinks you can’t. Trailing in the overall lead heading into that Stage 15, everyone was waiting for Lance to break through. It seemed that people were just assuming he would take a dominating lead; they just didn’t know when.
In a dead heat with Jan Ullrich and Ivan Basso (riders X and Y for all we care), he sat back temporarily, let his competitors lose their patience, then jumped out and took the lead. You know the rest of the story.
“They don’t call it the ‘Race of Truth’ for nothing,” Lance said after that display.
Vote Lance 2004. Imagine the ‘Strong’ America that would produce.
Tim Heaney is an undergraduate student at Boston University majoring in Print Journalism. In his limited free time he is a staff writer for BU's independent student newspaper The Daily Free Press.
