Why Floyd Landis Makes Me Laugh

Floyd Landis, a national hero a mere week ago is now a black eye on the sport of cycling and to the country he represents. His use of synthetic steroids has angered many, those who think his actions petty, and his example poor. I, to the contrary, relish the Floyd Landis scandal. It isn't because I'm anti-American, I'm just the opposite. It's just that I really detest overzealous nationalistic pride, whether in the form of a frenzied crowd of Germans, or an army made of beer-bellied men atop fauz-leather La-z-boys. The day after Mr. Landis's incredible hill climb was full of prideful comments of wonder at the display the rider put on. "Did you see that American cyclist, Floyd Landis yesterday? I read that sports historians are putting that performance in the same class of those of Seabuiscuit." From another, "That guy just crushed the field on that hill climb. Apparently we own the Tour de France."

Again, what really drives me nuts is not pride, but irrational, and overexuberant pride. The people making these comments didn't give two shits about cycling when they woke up that fateful morning. I can garauntee you their Tivo's weren't set to record the performance, and their trip to Home Depot wasn't scheduled around the event. I question whether these people even watched any of the three weeks of stages, but after an American was able to outclass his foreign competitors, it was surely notable. And here's where it really gets funny. When my father-in-law first described Landis's unprecedented demolition of the Pyrenes, my immediate reaction was to respond with, "Well, you better test that guy for drugs." The comment was acknowleged, and the conversation moved onto other subjects.

Now, I don't blame you if this story seems to be the result of insincere hindsight, but if you knew me, you'd feel otherwise. My philosophy is that when attempting to explain odd behavior, whether athletic or otherwise, your best bet is to lay your money down on drugs. I've followed my philosophy quite religiously, with great success I might add, but as a result, I believe my audience dismisses my comments. Logic would tell you they should begin to trust my assumptions, but for them to admit the weight of the evidence would represent a diametric change in worldview. Honestly, it would fry their circuits to believe that so many people are walking around this planet on drugs. No one wants to believe that their favorite country singer, or politician, or athlete is hopped up. Don't believe me? Next time you're watching a hillbilly concert where the performer seems especially confident with himself, offer to the audience, "Man, that guy looks coked out of his skull! He absolutely must be to work a crowd of 35,000 people like that!" Or, next time you watch an NFL linebacker crack a guy at full speed, jump up and squeel like a pig, suggest that "Good god he must have a great amphetamine guy!" One of two things will occur; 1) The room will go silent, 2) You'll enter into a long drawn out argument revolving around the nature of direct experience. It's like the entire country has agreed to forget that they once thought the Beatles were wholesome.

To summarize, this Landis situation was a double bonus for me. First, it deflated another terrible American fad, and secondly it added creedance to my argument that everyone is on drugs (yes, prescription drugs count).