Dear Lance,
It’s not the doping that pisses us off. Cycling is a sport
that’s rife with performance enhancing drugs of some sort or another. I also
realize that this is going to sound like a tween movie cliché if I say, “everybody
does it”, but it’s true in this case. It’s become sort of an unspoken
understanding that a huge chunk of those competing in the sport are doping. Cheating
is so rampant in the Tour De France that when blood doping isn’t found, they
blame the bike.
It’s the lying that pisses us off. Wait. It goes beyond
lying. It’s adamant lying. Then when people accuse you of doing it, you sue
them. Wait. It goes beyond suing, you annihilate them. Lance, you’ve ruined
lives, over and over again. I’ve never met you, but I know plenty who have and
everyone says the same thing. “He’s a prick.” In fact, you’re a
self-identifying prick. I understand that it takes a special soul to reach the
level of achievement you have. You’ve
beaten everything that’s come across your path and you’re invulnerable. Perhaps
that’s why you expose yourself to women you work with. What are they going to
do? You’re Lance Armstrong. Everyone not on “team Lance” is treated like cancer,
to be dominated, defeated and annihilated. It’s a shame. I feel sorry for you.
You say you came clean because of your family. You did it
for your kids. I don’t buy it. That is
the most selfish thing I believe I’ve ever heard. If you really had your family
and children in mind, you would have denied it and taken your secret to the
grave. Instead, you have placed your indisputable shame on the shoulders of
your children to carry for the rest of their lives. It’s impossible to outshine
you. You’ve worked hard to make it that way. Because of that fact, your
handiwork will smudge every achievement your children will ever make in some
way. Thanks, dad!
I’m pissed that you’re a Texan. It’s bad enough that GW
Claims to be from here (he’s not. He was born in Maine. Sorry Maine, but hey,
you got Stephen King.). You have taken the Texan counter argument away from us
when we travel abroad. When I would go
to Europe and tell people I am from Texas and they’d wrinkle their noses like
they’ve just smelled a fart and say “George Bush” and then I’d drop your name
and everything would be okay. I can’t do that now. Thanks, Lance!
So what now? I’m sure all your proverbial chickens are
coming home to roost and the lawsuits are about to beat down your door. As far
as the endorsements are concerned, you have sold more merchandise for these
companies than they could have ever sold without you. You have made many people
a great deal of money. That money should remain to be yours; that said, it’s
time you fix what you broke. Now you pay for all the lives you’ve destroyed and
careers you’ve ruined, some of which can’t be fixed. Next, leave the state. You have furthered the
already sullied reputation of what it means to be a Texan with your behavior.
You are no longer Texan. Don’t claim it. You should be banished to France. I’m
sure they will be licking their chops to hear that you’re coming…and take Rick
Perry with you, we’re done with that nut-sack too.
You were the best thing to ever happen to cancer. For cancer
survivors, you were the living symbol of perseverance and triumph over a
creeping death sentence, living proof that the odds can be beaten, Austin’s
favorite son.
A huge disappointment.
Dude.
Sincerely,
John Padgett
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