RandyW Posted February 17, 2009 Share Posted February 17, 2009 Paging Dr. Armstrong, Dr. Lance Armstrong... Paging Dr. Armstrong, Dr. Lance Armstrong... by Kathryn Bertine, Women's Cycling Examiner « PreviousNext » I must digress from my female cycling platform and give an e-high five to male cyclist and diatribe artist Lance Armstrong. Last night, I sat in the second row of the Amgen Tour of California Press Conference. I listened to and asked questions of cycling greats like Basso, Fiere, Cavendish, Hamilton, Leipheimer, Vande Velde, Brooke Miller (winner of last year’s women’s race)and Lance Himself. Everything was going as press conferency as usual. Until a man in the front row began to ask Lance a question about doping. Lance asked the gentleman his name. The man answered, “Paul Kimmage.” I render a guess Paul may have legally changed it by now. Kimmage, a former pro cyclist from the ‘80s and author of doping expose Rough Ride, is known for exposing the use of drugs in cycling. This is good! The problem? He thinks Lance’s general popularity has made the scandal of doping “disappear”. This is bad! This, however, is even worse: When Lance began his comeback, Kimmage said, in a September interview, “Well he [Lance] is the cancer in this sport. And for four years this sport has been in remission. And now the cancer's back." Kimmage literally called Lance Armstrong “a cancer.” Lance responded in what I can only describe as verbal chemotherapy. And an awesomely high dosage at that. Here are some of the most memorable lines from Lance’s soliloquy: "I am here to fight this disease. I am here so I don't have to deal with it, you don't have to deal with it, none of us have to deal with it, my children don't have to deal with it. Yet you said I am the cancer. And the cancer is out of remission. So it goes without saying, no, we aren't going to sit down and do an interview." “You [pointing at Kimmage] are not worth the chair you’re sitting on.” Some might say Lance ripped Kimmage apart. Tore him, well, an alternative orifice. From where I was sitting, a couple seats to the right of Kimmage with about five photographers fighting to sit in my lap, I thought Lance took it easy on the guy. Forget Lance’s reputation as an outspoken athlete, who has been known to border on egotistical. (Please. He’s earned it). Put aside all criticisms of his private life. (Come on now, who, at some point in time, didn’t think an Olsen twin was cute?) Try, if you can, to even forget the fact this guy won seven little races called the Tour de France. No matter what you think of Lance--hero, cheater or undecided--none of that matters. Who, in their right mind, calls a cancer survivor “a cancer” and expects to get away with it? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How had Kimmage, a man who helped break the awareness of drugs in cycling, erred so greatly? I really wanted to go over and shake some sense into the man, but there was a microphone in my hand... Oh, good God. The microphone. The press microphone. The one circulating around the press conference so journalists could ask questions...was in my hand. I was The Next Question. My heartrate hit one eighty. So much for my rest day. Suddenly, my role as a journalist switched sides with my role as a pro cyclist, and what was supposed to be my day off of training immediately became sprint repeats with Gord Fraser. Worse, I completely forgot what the heck I was going to ask. After the first round of Kimmotherapy, a silence filled the press room. All my experience as a journalist vanished and time slowed waaaay doooown. What do I ask Lance Armstrong after that? And would I live to tell about it? Just as I was debating if I should go with “Do you like puppies?” or “What’s your favorite color?” or “What do you think I could get for Paul Kimmage’s chair on eBay?” some semblance of responsible journalism trickled into my brain cell. I tried to segue from bad press to good press. I babbled something to Lance, asking about whether or not he thought the majority of the media was portraying his comeback/cancer charities in ways he was pleased with. I don’t remember his answer. My tape recorder does. The one I dropped this morning. Anyway, what I do remember is Lance was kind, gracious, informative, I do not need to change my name, and my sprinting ability is now phenomenal. What I also know is this: Journalists need to practice responsible sensationalism. Kimmage has a right to say what he likes, but calling someone a cancer in interview or print, is nothing but diseased journalism. Kudos to Dr. Armstrong for administering proper treatment. With the press conference in remission, let’s go back to bike racing. by Kathryn Bertine, Women's Cycling Examiner « PreviousNext » I must digress from my female cycling platform and give an e-high five to male cyclist and diatribe artist Lance Armstrong. Last night, I sat in the second row of the Amgen Tour of California Press Conference. I listened to and asked questions of cycling greats like Basso, Fiere, Cavendish, Hamilton, Leipheimer, Vande Velde, Brooke Miller (winner of last year’s women’s race)and Lance Himself. Everything was going as press conferency as usual. Until a man in the front row began to ask Lance a question about doping. Lance asked the gentleman his name. The man answered, “Paul Kimmage.” I render a guess Paul may have legally changed it by now. Kimmage, a former pro cyclist from the ‘80s and author of doping expose Rough Ride, is known for exposing the use of drugs in cycling. This is good! The problem? He thinks Lance’s general popularity has made the scandal of doping “disappear”. This is bad! This, however, is even worse: When Lance began his comeback, Kimmage said, in a September interview, “Well he [Lance] is the cancer in this sport. And for four years this sport has been in remission. And now the cancer's back." Kimmage literally called Lance Armstrong “a cancer.” Lance responded in what I can only describe as verbal chemotherapy. And an awesomely high dosage at that. Here are some of the most memorable lines from Lance’s soliloquy: "I am here to fight this disease. I am here so I don't have to deal with it, you don't have to deal with it, none of us have to deal with it, my children don't have to deal with it. Yet you said I am the cancer. And the cancer is out of remission. So it goes without saying, no, we aren't going to sit down and do an interview." “You [pointing at Kimmage] are not worth the chair you’re sitting on.” Some might say Lance ripped Kimmage apart. Tore him, well, an alternative orifice. From where I was sitting, a couple seats to the right of Kimmage with about five photographers fighting to sit in my lap, I thought Lance took it easy on the guy. Forget Lance’s reputation as an outspoken athlete, who has been known to border on egotistical. (Please. He’s earned it). Put aside all criticisms of his private life. (Come on now, who, at some point in time, didn’t think an Olsen twin was cute?) Try, if you can, to even forget the fact this guy won seven little races called the Tour de France. No matter what you think of Lance--hero, cheater or undecided--none of that matters. Who, in their right mind, calls a cancer survivor “a cancer” and expects to get away with it? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How had Kimmage, a man who helped break the awareness of drugs in cycling, erred so greatly? I really wanted to go over and shake some sense into the man, but there was a microphone in my hand... Oh, good God. The microphone. The press microphone. The one circulating around the press conference so journalists could ask questions...was in my hand. I was The Next Question. My heartrate hit one eighty. So much for my rest day. Suddenly, my role as a journalist switched sides with my role as a pro cyclist, and what was supposed to be my day off of training immediately became sprint repeats with Gord Fraser. Worse, I completely forgot what the heck I was going to ask. After the first round of Kimmotherapy, a silence filled the press room. All my experience as a journalist vanished and time slowed waaaay doooown. What do I ask Lance Armstrong after that? And would I live to tell about it? Just as I was debating if I should go with “Do you like puppies?” or “What’s your favorite color?” or “What do you think I could get for Paul Kimmage’s chair on eBay?” some semblance of responsible journalism trickled into my brain cell. I tried to segue from bad press to good press. I babbled something to Lance, asking about whether or not he thought the majority of the media was portraying his comeback/cancer charities in ways he was pleased with. I don’t remember his answer. My tape recorder does. The one I dropped this morning. Anyway, what I do remember is Lance was kind, gracious, informative, I do not need to change my name, and my sprinting ability is now phenomenal. What I also know is this: Journalists need to practice responsible sensationalism. Kimmage has a right to say what he likes, but calling someone a cancer in interview or print, is nothing but diseased journalism. Kudos to Dr. Armstrong for administering proper treatment. With the press conference in remission, let’s go back to bike racing. Up next: an interview with Brooke Miller, 2008 Women’s TOC champ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.