That seems to be the game plan Armstrong brought to this interview. Downplay your power over others. Deny issuing explicit orders to dope. Convert any such story into a matter of setting a poor example. Take responsibility for yourself, but suggest that others—those who claim you pressured them—must do the same. Recast your threats, retributions, and demands for silence as products of a hard life. Reduce your sins of coercion to a sin of deceit. When Winfrey asked Armstrong “what made you a bully,” he answered: “Just trying to perpetuate the story and hide the truth.”
That’s Armstrong’s message: Everything he did, no matter how domineering, menacing, or manipulative, was a desperate effort to protect a single lie. “I tried to control the narrative,” he says. And he’s still trying to control the narrative. Which is a good reason not to believe it.
Since Lance Armstrong's case might be one of those milestones of a generation where athletic achievement and legacy predicated on cheating is concerned, and because Wenatchee The Hatchet is feeling a teensy bit lazy today, we'll just link to this old post about the legacy of a jerk and why jerks are precisely the sorts of people who can occasionally build legacies people want to get behind.
Since Lance Armstrong's case might be one of those milestones of a generation where athletic achievement and legacy predicated on cheating is concerned, and because Wenatchee The Hatchet is feeling a teensy bit lazy today, we'll just link to this old post about the legacy of a jerk and why jerks are precisely the sorts of people who can occasionally build legacies people want to get behind.
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