Contador

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past couple of days or hold no interest in cycling whatsoever, you’ll already know that Alberto Contador has been cleared of intentional doping by the Spanish cycling federation.

I honestly don’t know how I feel about it and I think that I’m not alone in my feelings.

For the past few years, Contador has been Mr Cycling. His athletic prowess, unique riding style and dominating attacks have obliterated the opposition and monopolised the grand tours. It’s been brilliant to watch.

The 2009 Tour de France played out like a feature film where the smaller, playground wimp was bullied by the brash American, determined to take his lunch money, only for the shy wallflower to rise up and beat the bully into submission. I warmed to him, hell, I even cheered for him.

We applauded him, placed him up high on that pedestal and then worshipped him alongside the other historic greats.
The foundations of the king’s statue began to crack in 2010, following the chain “incident” with Andy Schleck. Fans stood by him, “Alberto doesn’t cheat, it must be a mistake. He didn’t know Schleck had dropped his chain.”
I want to believe the innocence, even though common sense mocks my naivety. It clouded the end of the race and the win became a dark stain on the yellow jersey.

Rumours then begin to emerge about a failed drug test but the reports aren’t clear as to whether it’s accidental or not. I want them to be false but then I don’t want dopers in the sport. It’s like denying your wife’s having an affair or that your brother’s a drug addict. The signs are there and you know common sense says the instincts are right but you just don’t want to believe the rumours that shatter the illusion.

As it stands, he’ll race and whether the ban is upheld in future months after the appeal is an issue we’ll see as, if or when it happens. One thing is for certain, I’ll be upset regardless of the decision and it is another low blow to the sport of cycling.