An Open Letter To Cyclist Floyd Landis

Posted: August 18, 2006

Cycling: An Open Letter To Cyclist Floyd Landis

From: www.ByJamesRaia.com

Dear Floyd:

You likely don't remember me. But since you were a late Tour de France pick for U.S. Postal Service team in 2002, I've been among the media corps following you around the globe.

We've had our moments. Early in your first Tour, I was staying in same hotel as your team. I came back from a run one morning and introduced myself in the hotel lobby. I grabbed my tape recorder and we talked for more than 30 minutes. I remember thinking, "Quiet, honest, unassuming guy."

The next spring, you competed in the Sea Otter Classic on the Monterey Peninsula. It was part of your recovery from your now well-documented, off-season crash. You were still walking with a limp. I was covering the race as a print reporter for a few newspapers. But I also co-hosted an internet radio show, Adventure Sports Radio, in Sacramento. We were on site, just off the finish line. There was a mix up in the road race in Redwood City, and I asked you spur-of-the-moment at the finish if you were available for a radio interview. You obliged and gave your time willingly. Again, your absence of ego was appreciated.

Sportswriters are just like everyone else. For the most part, I think we try to be objective. But we assess the athletes we interview, just like athletes likely assess reporters. I think it's fair to say a good share of cycling journalists are avid riders, so their collective relationships with athletes they interview may include some degree of adulation.

I've never been much of a cyclist. But I have been a marathon runner for about 25 years, so many years ago I began to cover endurance athletes for newspapers. I appreciated the athletes and felt (and still believe) they didn't get the media attention they deserve.

The NBA and NFL were OK, but assignments came along to interview cyclists like Greg LeMond, Ned Overend, Davis Phinney and Andy Hampsten. It was something different and refreshing. Then there was the next generation, athletes like Lance Armstrong, Tyler Hamilton and you. I don't know any of you well, but I've enjoyed my casual relationships with many endurance athletes.

More than 20 years later, I'm still reporting on cycling. I've still never asked a rider what gear they were in during a sprint and I don't know one frame from another. I don't care.

But after 10 trips to the Tour de France, a half-dozen journeys to the World Championships, a co-authorship of a cycling book and hundreds (if not thousands) of newspaper, news service and magazine articles about cycling I figure it's fair to say I like the sport. I can't help but appreciate cyclists. It's how they act when they win and when they don't. It's how they persevere and it's their sportsmanship.

Give me anyone (man or woman) in the peloton to interview and with rare exception, I'd rather write about their training, family, hobbies and emotions than anyone in the NBA, NFL or Major League baseball. I became disillusioned with those sports years ago.

But Floyd, cycling has got me down now, too. It's Tyler's weird tales. It's Armstrong and LeMond battling out their egos in the press. It's guys getting booted out before the Tour begins. It's A samples and B samples. It's USADA, WADA and Dick Pound. It's the ego of the French newspaper L'Equipe, and it's outgoing Tour de France race director Jean-Marie Leblanc changing his tune as often as he changes his official Tour short-sleeve dress shirts.

And now Floyd, it's you.

I've been around you now for five years — the Tour de France to the Tour of California. When people ask about the Tour and the ways of cycling, I talk about Lance waiting for Jan Ullrich after the German rider rode over a cliff. I talk about Tyler winning on a solo flyer with a broken collarbone and wrapped up like a mummy. I'm a cynical, middle-aged sportswriter who's been around too many athletes and heard too many clichés and witnessed too many overblown events. But I still know great sport when it comes along, and I know sportsmanship from bravado.

Most recently, at least in my opinion, great sport included you. Everyone now knows your story — your religious upbringing in Pennsylvania, your late-night teenage rides in sweatpants. I've talked about your selfless, unexpected efforts helping Lance with the Tour. And, of course, there's your collapse in stage 16, your solo win in stage 17 and your positive drug test in the just-completed Tour de France.

Everyone now also knows you're in the middle of perhaps the worst debacle in cycling's history.

I didn't see your recent morning network talk show blitz. But I did see you with Jay Leno and Bill Maher the other night on the Tonight Show. And it was that appearance, I think, that provides a key to what should come next.

You mixed in well with the two comedians and played the appearance in the spirit of the evening. Even when Maher stood up and said, "No one gives a shit about cycling except for the last 10 seconds" you laughed.

But now Floyd, the last laugh may be on you. As you may have heard, Ford has pulled its sponsorship from the Tour of Georgia. Skoda has done same at the Tour de France. The connection to you may not be direct, but you won both races this year, and so make no mistake: Cycling is in a fast-moving, downward spiral, and it's relevant to your case.

Floyd, 30 years ago the movie Network made its debut. Your were about age 1 at the time and you may have never seen the film. But there's an aging television anchorman in the movie, Howard Beale. The character is played by the actor Peter Finch. The film's climax occurs when Beale has had enough of broadcasting's cut-throat, unfair practices. He's angry in general about injustices in life.

One night on camera, Beale, at his breaking point, tells the audience: "Go to the window and shout as loud as you can: 'I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore.' "

Floyd, this approach may not come naturally to you. I was in the audience at your post final time trial Tour press conference. I heard your voice crack when you thanked your parents for your pending title. I've been around you enough to know you're generally soft-spoken and not prone to dramatics.

But I was also there at the end of the Tour's 17th stage when you thrust your hand into the air in defiance. You said you were angry. I've heard you say that you've got the Yellow Jersey on the fireplace mantel in your home and you plan to keep it. That's that spirit, Floyd.

We all know you're about to have your hip replaced and then the potentially lengthy WADA, USADA and CAS process will begin. You've got lawyers, now, and you've learned through your advisors to work the media.

You owe me nothing. Radio talk show hosts and friends have repeatedly asked my opinion about your situation. I've repeatedly said I want to believe you. I want to believe Tyler, too. But cycling is not my full-time livelihood. The only thing I'm concerned with is that I've begun to question what I feel is one of my strong points as a journalist — a good ability to judge character. That's frustrating, but I'll get over it.

It's not that easy for you, Floyd. If you're a cheater, shame on you. It's your substantial financial loss and it's your disgrace. Cycling will suffer and you'll get what you deserve.

But if you're not a cheater and you want to keep your Yellow Jersey, you need to defend it. You need to get angry again. You need to become Howard Beale.

Sincerely,

James Raia

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