Rabobank pull the plug. Who's next?

exactly, most ex dopers when they come back keep quiet and he has never done that and acts as if he never doped, just think he runs his mouth with out any right to do so.
 
jonnyboy666":284iglag said:
exactly, most ex dopers when they come back keep quiet and he has never done that and acts as if he never doped, just think he runs his mouth with out any right to do so.

This is the reason he runs his mouth! the fact he was caught and held his hands up is his right to run his mouth.

A big part of the problem of doping was the secrecy of it, which is how a rider like Millar, who wanted to be clean ended up getting drawn into it. His stance since he served his ban has helped to make the sport cleaner, and for that he should be applauded.
 
think I would rather listen to a clean rider who has more to be angry about given how the sport has been blighted by drugs, now the challenge is, who is that rider?
 
clockworkgazz":34jb5hjv said:
think I would rather listen to a clean rider who has more to be angry about given how the sport has been blighted by drugs, now the challenge is, who is that rider?

Clean or caught ..... Same difference ;)
 
clockworkgazz":1so6dfzy said:
think I would rather listen to a clean rider who has more to be angry about given how the sport has been blighted by drugs, now the challenge is, who is that rider?

Not clean, but given that every team has (had) a doping program it's a damned if you do/don't dilemma they're all faced with.

The Suicide Note of Marco Pantani

You will read this after, so I want you to know I was happiest on the bike.
For all of my memory I felt the most at home
With my feet on the pedals and the world moving around me.
The perfume of grease,
mentholated embrocation
and the heat in my legs.

We saw the movie in the small cinema in Cesenatico,
Disney’s little elephant who could fly.
I flew away on my bike that afternoon,
A boy’s eyes wet with tears of humiliation.
The harder I pedaled,
The higher I flew,

I learned to use my skills,
To fly above my hurt,
You called me hero, but I heard only taunts.
Pedal harder.
You called me campione.
Pedal harder.
You called me cheater.
Pedal harder.

I’m sorry, but I could not pedal every hour of every day.
I could not keep those thoughts
From my sleep.
So I filled my hours with tricks to stop the endless chatter of
God and family. Sin and redemption. My face in the mirror.
My imperfections magnified.
Pedal harder.

I held the biggest prize above my head
My heart was full of joy and peace.
My mother and father wept at my achievement.
But by the next dawn I was filled again with shame.
Pedal harder.
And when the next prize was taken
Just hours from my grasp
All was black inside
And I could only recoil from the light.
They wanted to punish me,
But I was already in prison.

I fought back, of course.
To be my own superhero,
A Pirate, a criminal beloved for his audacity.
Accepted as flawed. Accepted.
But I could not accept myself.
I cut away at my face,
but I could not slice into my disfigured soul.

Do not think it was all for nothing.
There is so much that I cherish.
Thank you, my dear friends,
For your hands reaching out for my slippery fingers.
I did see your signs on the climbs,
My name in fresh paint that clung to my tires.
I appreciated your hands on the small of my back,
The cool water spilled down my neck.
A million roadside kindnesses over the years,
Grazie. Grazie. Goodbye.

It is not so bad to be an Elephantino.
I just wanted to be a boy.
 
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