In defence of cycling

As a keen cyclist and fan of professional cycling, I’m fed up. With doping scandals in my sport? Absolutely not. Rather, I’m fed up with people judging the sport, and ignorantly labelling all cyclists ‘a bunch of dopers’.

The recent Tour de France was, like the previous edition, hit by a number of front-page doping scandals. Last year, the big pre-race favourites Ivan Basso and Jan Ullrich were among a number of cyclists prohibited from starting the race because of their implication in the blood-doping affair dubbed Operation Puerto. And just days after the 2006 Tour finished, winner Floyd Landis was found to have taken testosterone during his race-winning breakaway to Morzine. This year’s casualties were pre-race favourite Alexander Vinokourov (homologous blood transfusion), Spanish climber Iban Mayo (EPO, a blood-boosting hormone), Cristian Moreni (testosterone), and, most spectacularly, race leader Michael Rasmussen. Wearing the yellow jersey – and virtually assured of the overall win – Rasmussen was ejected from the race by his own team with just four days remaining, despite never actually being found guilty of doping. The emaciated Danish climber, whose unsympathetic personality did not help his cause, was the victim of enormous media and public pressure following the revelation that he had missed four separate random drug tests prior to the race.

So, how can I defend a sport that is apparently rife with doping? For me, ‘apparently’ is the key word in this question. Firstly, the media loves a scandal. Even within its continental European homeland, cycling gets only limited mainstream press coverage outside the month of July. In countries with little professional cycling heritage, such as the UK, even the Tour de France rarely gets more than a few paragraphs in the daily newspapers. However, a doping scandal is considered eminently newsworthy – and Rasmussen’s forced exit from the Tour was consequently splashed across front pages all over the world. My first point is hardly revelatory: quite simply, the media distorts our perception. Suffice it to say that the majority of clean riders don’t get much of a mention in the mainstream press.

Secondly, and most importantly, I believe that cycling is no worse affected by doping than many other sports. Cycling is quite simply the only sport that is so committed to fighting doping that it is willing to put its own image and reputation on the line. If you search hard enough, you will find cheats. Given the financial implications of doping scandals (reduced TV broadcast rights, difficulty attracting sponsors), cycling’s authorities are brave men indeed. How many other sports would rather look the other way for fear of upsetting the status quo – and their balance sheets? At the 2006 football World Cup, FIFA did not perform a single blood test, opting for the less reliable urine-only tests. In cycling, blood tests have been a standard part of the anti-doping artillery since 1997. The UCI (Union Cycliste Internationale) was the first international federation to introduce EPO testing (in April 2001), and there is now talk of implementing DNA tests.

For me, the recent doping ‘scandals’ in the sport are extremely positive: they prove that the cheats are being caught, and serve as a warning to other potential (and actual) dopers. Of course, I’m not naïve enough to believe that there are no more cheats in the peloton today – but at least we’re finally making some progress. Tour de France organisers ASO are whole-heartedly committed to the fight against doping (which is perhaps why the Tour seems to expose more cheats than other races). In the last couple of years, ASO has adopted a policy of refusing entry to riders whose reputations are sullied by links to drug scandals. The Rasmussen affair, says ASO, was a result of the UCI not keeping it fully informed. Had Tour de France officials known about the Dane’s record of no-shows for drug tests, they would never have allowed him to line up in London (where the 2007 edition started).

Headed by Patrice Clerc and new Tour de France boss Christian Prudhomme, ASO has made clear its determination to reinforce this policy of hand-picking participants and teams – even if this results in a greatly reduced field for the 2008 edition. Prudhomme quite rightly rejects the theory that riders take drugs because the race is too hard. Since the 1990s, the daily stages have been greatly reduced in length, yet riders are still doping. As Prudhomme points out, riders do not dope because the route is difficult; they dope to go faster than the others. They dope for money, for glory, or to keep their jobs. Every year, thousands of amateurs, whose natural ability and dedication to training is significantly less than that of the pros, complete stages of the Tour de France – and a handful ride the whole route. If they can succeed without doping, then the professionals should have no trouble. The chief consequence of ridding the sport of doping would be a dip in the average race speed: something that is of little consequence to cycling fans.

I also reject the argument that doping should be legalized. Even if such a policy would assure a level playing field, it essentially advocates the use of substances that have been proved to carry health risks. Overuse of EPO, for example, can thicken the blood to such an extent that it clots inside the body during sleep. Legalizing doping is contrary to the basic principle that sport is a healthy pursuit. For youngsters coming into the sport, such a policy is hardly a model to aspire to.

In order to succeed, anti-doping campaigners must bring about a change in mentality. Particularly among the older generation of cyclists, doping is part and parcel of the sport. Such riders reason that they are not cheating, merely ‘looking after themselves’ – and keeping up with the others. Certainly, doping has always existed in cycling and competitive sport generally (and probably, to some extent, it always will). Yet, there is a clearly perceptible change in attitudes towards drug-taking within the cycling fraternity. When, in 1998, the ‘Festina’ doping affair erupted on the Tour de France, riders protested over their treatment at the hands of the police and anti-doping authorities. This year, doping scandals provoked a similar protest (admittedly on a smaller scale), but this time riders were protesting against the dopers themselves. Whereas before, no-one dared to talk openly about doping, many riders today are eager to communicate their disgust at and disdain for drug-takers in the peloton.

With the backing of the (majority of) riders, the sporting authorities have also reinforced punishments for proven cheats. As recently as the 1980s, riders found guilty of doping were given a slap on the wrist and, at worst, a small fine and a few minutes penalty on the general classification. Today, a rider found guilty of doping is automatically handed a two-year ban, and is not allowed to return to a top-flight team (those that ride the biggest races) for four years.

The most encouraging sign of the anti-dopers’ progress is the emergence of a new economic model for structuring teams. In cycling, teams are financed and named after their sponsor (eg: Team T-Mobile). Traditionally, sponsors have (logically enough) demanded their team delivers sporting results to guarantee additional publicity and a return on investment. In the late 90s, the Cofidis team notably paid its riders according to their results. When the team was found to be at the heart of a doping scandal, many critics blamed the payment system. Today, a number of teams (including Cofidis) base their public image not so much on results, but rather on selling themselves as committed defenders of anti-doping. Thanks to a change in public perception, an anti-doping stance is beginning to be valued as much as (if not above) results – especially in Germany and France, the two countries currently leading the crusade against doping. In 2008, several big-name riders will join Slipstream, an emerging American team whose very raison d’être is the combat against doping.

Cycling, in my opinion, is not the scourge of the sporting world. Rather, it is an entrepreneur in the fight against doping. Entrepreneurs necessarily take risks on their path to success. And, at the moment, those risks involve laying the sport’s reputation on the line. There is still a long way to go – and I don’t believe any high-level competitive sport will ever be 100% drug-free – but at least my sport is heading in the right direction.

Richard Woodruff