Positively False

So two things. Next week, there’s a big bike race that’s going to start in London and then work its way through France and, from what I hear, it’s one hell of a race. I haven’t had cable TV in years although over the past ten minutes, I’ve been giving serious thought to calling my local cable company just so I can catch the race on TV (and some internet access at home would be nice too). Sadly, though, as hard as it is to believe, I don’t think my local cable company carries the Versus network, which has the broadcast rights to the Tour. Is that a f*cking tragedy or what?

Second, I just finished reading Positively False: The Real Story of How I Won the Tour de France by Floyd Landis and the first thing I’ll say is that while Floyd was certainly not put on this earth to be a writer (and I’m almost willing to say the same about Loren Mooney, the editor who helped Floyd write his memoir), it was well worth the $13.51 I paid.

(Before laying out $24.95 for the hardcover at the Barnes & Noble on 17th Street near Union Square, I walked a few blocks south to The Strand on the corner of Broadway and 12th Street and found a few copies in the ½ price Review section. For those of you who may actually visit the store, the Review section is in the basement and sorted by author’s last names.)

The book is 306 pages long and the first 180 take the reader all the way from Floyd’s childhood through his win in the 2006 Tour de France. And those pages are relatively interesting. They give a lot of insight into how Floyd built his way up from junior mountain biker, his first experience with racing overseas, and finally getting into road racing. He talks about his time on the US Postal team as well as how he left the team and how he and Lance had a yelling match out on the road in 2005 when Floyd was riding his first Tour for Phonak. Those first 180 pages are relatively absorbing, yet while reading Floyd’s words, you get the sense that either (a) Floyd doesn’t want his audience too close, meaning despite the background and insight into his life, the book never seems to take a deep dive at any particular point, which is somewhat disappointing, or (b) there really just isn’t that much more of a story to tell, that Floyd’s laid everything on the table and it’s sort of like a yard sale in that despite looking it all over, there really isn’t much to get you interested.

Then, it happens on page 181 that Floyd’s still in Europe celebrating his win by taking part is some one-day races that are customary for the yellow jersey when Phonak’s team manager calls to say that there’s been a positive result from one of the stage’s urine samples and that while no one’s actually said his name, there isn’t much doubt that the positive belongs to Floyd.

I think everybody knows what happens after this. WADA, the World Anti-Doping Association, says, “Floyd used testosterone to win stage 17.” Floyd then said (as most accused cyclists do), “I’ve never doped in my life.” After reading his book, I say, “Floyd’s laid out a fairly meticulous case to prove he may have not actually doped. Actually, let me reword that. According to Floyd, the French lab that produced the positive result completely f*cked up.”

After reading his book, yeah, the lab did f*ck up--big time. According to testing standards, WADA-accredited labs in both the US and Australia, if having performed the test themselves, would not have labeled Floyd’s results as positive. Actually, the list of screw-ups, not to mention just how unfair the USADA (United States Anti-Doping Association) acts when handling these cases is sort of mind-blowing. Floyd makes a great point when he highlights the fact that the USADA is a government-funded organization and when they both try and win high-level celebrity cases such as Floyd’s, they receive a ton of press which then ensures continued government funding, but here’s the thing. As the USADA was working on prosecuting Floyd, they decided to not prosecute two other athletes from sports outside cycling who had tested positive according to the lab at UCLA. Why? The USADA has a limited treasure chest and they needed all the money they could get their hands on to deal with Floyd’s case considering he chose to fight, so rather than prosecute two athletes who had no doubt doped (this coming from a former head of the UCLA lab who decided to work with Floyd), they decided to stick with their guns on Floyd despite the fact that the details around his test results were sketchy to begin with.

While that’s all well and good, Floyd defines a ton of other examples of how unjustly the anti-doping system treats athletes, but that’s for you to read for yourself. Thing is, reaching the end of the book, I’m not exactly convinced Floyd didn’t dope.

Sure, Floyd convinced me of how much of a disaster the USADA and WADA actually are and just how incompetent that lab is over there in France (that should be obvious even without reading the book . . . I mean, we’re talking about the French here--they spend most of their days debating the differences between brie and camembert . . . just kidding, Olivier) and how the entire process needs to change, but the question is, did he or did he not enhance his performance against the rules?

Of course he did. Let’s get real. The 2006 Tour started without the top five finishers from the 2005 Tour because they had all been implicated via Operacion Puerto (with the exception of Lance Armstrong) and sent home by their teams. This is an endurance sport we’re talking about, a very severe test of endurance with a hell of a lot of money on the line in terms of sponsorships and endorsements. To me, the question shouldn’t be, “Did Floyd dope?” but rather, “How can you win such an event without doping?”

I realize I say all this as an outsider, as someone who only knows what he reads, but this think of it like this. Have you ever heard of a former NASCAR mechanic writing a tell-all book around how much NASCAR race drivers are doping? My point is, if it doesn’t happen, there’s no story to tell, yet according to Floyd, doping in the pro European peloton is nowhere near as prevalent as some authorities would have us believe. If that’s true, why have there been so many interviews, articles, and books published by industry insiders? What do riders like Manzano and others have to lose other than their careers and their livelihoods when they speak out about rampant doping in the sport?

Overall, Positively False is a good read. If you’re into cycling (and I’m assuming you are if you’re even reading this page), it’s well worth the money.