Fool me once, Lance, shame on you

How gullible have we been?

The problem for Lance Armstrong isn’t the French newspaper L’Equipe, which reported on Tuesday that six urine samples he provided in 1999 tested positive for EPO, the endurance juice of choice in a habitually sullied sport.

The problem isn’t the Tour de France director, Jean-Marie Leblanc, who told L’Equipe, ‘‘For the first time — and these are no longer rumors, these are proven scientific facts — someone has shown me that in 1999, Armstrong had a banned substance called EPO in his body.’’

Armstrong has vehemently denied ever using performance-enhancing drugs. His problem is distinguishing his refutation amid the sports culture of deception and lies.

A firm denial has lost its credibility when every culprit claims innocence, when the sprinter Kelli White denies and then confesses. The hypocrisy seems pathological among the stars. And yet we desperately want to believe Armstrong is immune to dishonesty.

Duped again and again. Whether an athlete has been under oath, or simply under suspicion, it has been the year of denial from some of the most heartwarming athletes.

Remember the Olympic cyclist Tyler Hamilton? His story required an extra hankie when he rode to gold in Athens, inspired by his deceased dog, Tugboat, but was later suspended for two years after transfusing someone else’s blood to boost his endurance.

Amid all the tall tales, it is difficult for Armstrong to stand out as a bicycle messenger of truth. He is trying, though, and sounded convincing as he questioned the validity of testing samples that were frozen six years ago.

‘‘It doesn’t surprise me at all that they have samples’’, Armstrong told reporters on Wednesday. ‘‘Clearly they’ve tested all of my samples since then to the highest degree. But when I gave those samples, there was not EPO in those samples. I guarantee that.’’

Most folks want to believe in Armstrong, in the credibility of his courage, in the veracity of his inspiration, in the purity of his Tour de France titles.

Most want to believe, but does everyone dare? We’ve been suckers for hearts-and-flowers icons before. This betrayal of an image has become commonplace.

And this is Armstrong’s problem. With every turn of the Tour de France, he took everyone along on a very special joy ride. But with every denial, Armstrong sounds a lot like everyone else.

(The New York Times)