to dope, or not to dope
I like surly Bradley Wiggins and always have. Cav I can do without. That’s why I, along with over a million others, waited with baited breath and child-like anticipation on the course of the Olympics’ road race the other day as, even if the Manx Missile (Scouse Scally more like) had triumphed, it would have been Bradley who’d put him there and he deserved both my respect, adulation and attendance.
Having said that I do have to admit that I choked on my croque-monsieur the other year when Sky supremo, David Brailsford, proudly announced that he was going to win Le Tour in five years. As Le Monde scoffed at the time “Don’t these Brits know it’s not exactly easy? You don’t win the Tour with a trip to Halfords, a few Brussels sprouts and a chorus of Rule, Britannia!” I’d read a lot about the race by this time, appreciated a little of its history and also knew that this wasn’t going to be happening any time soon, if at all. Ever. So much do I know!
The litany of Tour dopers and cheats is well documented and continues to this day but Wiggins rides clean and remains untainted. Back in the day he was in a very small minority of clean riders; now he is within the majority. I particularly love one anecdotal story of how, when the Confidis scandal erupted and the whole team was banned, he quietly threw all his team kit in a dustbin at Pau airport and swore he’d never race in it ever again. And he didn’t.
Undoubtedly there’s a different perception of doping over Le Manche, where it is virtually considered necessary and where a rider like Richard Virenque can dope, be caught, be banned and still be regarded as somewhere between national hero and treasure. Britain is a country where doping is not morally acceptable and there’s a majority of us that don’t think you should be riding in the GB Team, Mr Miller. With Bradley the doping issue is personal. He blames the cheats for keeping the clean riders out of contract and limiting their prospects, for cynically stealing their spoils of the sport for years.
When quizzed Bradley often refers to what he would lose if he doped and the answer is always close to my heart: his reputation, livelihood, marriage, his family and his home. He touching states that he’d have to take his kids to school gates in the small Lancashire village where he now lives, knowing that everyone would know he’d cheated. And he couldn’t do that, he could not live with that knowledge. And here’s the best quote: “If I felt I had to take drugs to win, I would stop tomorrow, go and ride club 10-mile time trials, ride to the cafe on Sundays and stack shelves in Tesco.” Now you just can’t imagine that coming out of dear Lance’s mouth can you? Bradley, you’re the business.
