Pro Cycling is No Dope

When you think of illicit performance enhancement in sports, what comes to mind?

Pro baseball, certainly. Plenty of "enhancement" there. Pro football? Sure. Olympic sports? Of course; it's hard not to notice the occasional byline about an expelled athlete in the lead up to the Beijing games.

But one sport has them all beat: Professional cycling. The guys with the bright tights and fast bikes.

In fact, public perception of the sport is so linked to doping, even the recently completed Tour de France couldn't overshadow an undercurrent of doping allegations. (Can you even name who won this year? Can you remember the doping stories? Enough said.)

[A word about semantics. The terms "doping" and "steroids" essentially refer to the same practice - performance enhancement - only with a different focus. "Doping" typically refers to enhancement in endurance sports - cycling, running, etc. Doping compounds help the body transfer oxygen to the blood, extending normal endurance thresholds. "Steroids" typically refers to enhancement in strength sports - football, baseball, etc - where bulk strength is key. Steroids allow muscles to recover from punishing workouts faster. The quicker the recovery, the faster you get back into the gym.]

But wait a second. Major League Baseball had congressional hearings. There was a time last year that you couldn't read the sports page without a baseball steroid allegation. There was even the damning Mitchell report, naming the names of some of today's (and yesterday's) biggest stars.

Yes, all of that is true. But what about today? As soon as new storylines emerge, steroid allegations fade into the background. Yes, there is new "testing" in baseball, but the players' union fights hard to keep results out of the public eye. And they seem to know what they are doing. They know, from a public relations perspective, steroid allegations are a "flash in the pan" crisis: High intensity, but little staying power. Just be patient, they counsel players, and you can get back to the business of earning endorsements.

So that got me thinking, why do performance enhancement allegations seem to dog professional cycling like they do no other sport? It doesn't seem fair.

My first thought was the international focus of the sport, versus a primarily American perspective for baseball and football.

That could be part of it. International pressure certainly shines an intense spotlight on competition. In American sports, the outcome prevails. If a player "juiced," but went on to win it all, Americans tend to remember (and reward - like it or not - with glory, endorsements, and hard cash) the latter. The same can't be said on the international stage. Competition and fair play hold a stronger procedural footing.

But even there, the logic did not seem to add up.

In the Olympics, the international stage on which many might claim doping and steroid use is rampant, one Olympic gold medal tear-jerker story pushes all of those allegations out of the public eye.

So the question remains. What is it about pro cycling that can't shake its bad vibe?

Being at a bit of a loss, I called on local road cycling guru Blayne Puklich of excelcycle. What he said surprised me.

I came to learn that professional cycling actually wants it this way. Riders see it as a badge of honor that their sport places so much emphasis on cleaning up its act. Average riders talk about doping allegations, sure, and they realize that most people outside the sport must think all pro riders juice, but they don't care. They know the truth.

Blayne reminded me of American Tour de France winner Floyd Landis (remember him?). After he was caught doping (allegedly), pro cycling not only stripped his title, but also banned him from the sport for two years.

In pro baseball, that would be the equivalent of catching Barry Bonds using steroids (allegedly), expunging his home run record, and banning him from play for two years. Could you see that happening?

Even Lance Armstrong, pro cycling's greatest American hero in a generation, has been trailed incessantly by doping allegations. They won't even leave him alone.

Then it occurred to me: Pro cycling is bringing this on themselves. On purpose. Let me explain.

Pro cycling is taking the long view. It wants to be seen as pure sport. To do that, it needs to take illegal performance enhancement seriously. And the only way to be serious is to crack down hard. No games of chicken. No riders' unions. No fooling around. If you are caught, you are tainted, and you are out.

And if you think about it, this makes sense. Professional sports have been slipping more and more into the "entertainment" category for the past two decades. League marketers haven't failed to catch the intense popularity, ratings, and money-making ability of pseudo-sports like the WWE. If you've noticed, they've worked in similar tactical elements. Personal drama. Love triangles. Emotional backstories.

While pro sports in the United States haven't quite sold their soul, they are on a very slippery slope. If they are not careful, they will lose their grounding in reality, and become yet another entertainment phenomenon to rise and fall with the fickle tide of public tastes.

Now think about what pro cycling is doing. They might be taking it on the chin now, but in 10 years, the sport's image will turn around. By contrast, the image of other pro sports is likely to deteriorate.

Branding is all about authenticity - in this case authenticity in pure competition - and cycling will have it. The others won't. And that's a truth they will be able to build a successful business model on.

By the way. Spanish rider Carlos Sastre won to '08 tour. Clean.