Speaking of cheating

Fucking masters riders.

This kind of stuff sometimes bothers me, sometimes makes me laugh (the dipshit’s quote is hilarious), and sometimes it just plain baffles me. I talked about the self-policing aspect of the peloton last time, and it seems to me that the fellow 50-year-olds who raced against this guy after his first two-year sanction should have been throwing sticks into his spokes to clearly send the message: You don’t belong with us.

It’s strange that what I’m about to explain is even a thing, but it is:

When I quit cycling, I will be able to take some amount of pride in knowing I never doped. Not “I never got caught,” but I never took any substances other than water, sugary drinks, frozen pizzas, cheeseburgers, and lots of ice cream.

What a sad fucking sport—dominated by a bunch of sad, fucking Type A morons—that that’s even a thing I would be able to be proud about. Ha.

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