Vail – With a cold, hard rain ready to fall from stormy skies, embattled Tour de France winner Floyd Landis jumped from the back seat of an SUV, stood in the middle of the road and straddled the double yellow line between fame and notoriety.
“Would you take a photo with my signs?” Tracey Hawkins asked Landis.
How could he refuse? His dedicated cycling fan had braved a howling wind to show support for an athlete embroiled in a drug scandal that threatens to send the integrity of his sport crashing over the handlebars.
One sign declared: “Free Floyd.”
The other sign profanely told the French race officials who have accused Landis of doping to stick it where a bicycle reflector light doesn’t shine.
Wearing a grin, Landis enthusiastically scribbled his signature across the cardboard poster that urged to set him free. But before smiling for the camera, the American cyclist politely shooed away the more graphic protest sign, saying: “I’ve got enough P.R. problems. I don’t need that.”
With a surgically repaired hip and a badly damaged reputation, Landis competed Sunday on a skinny-tire bike for the first time since winning the 2006 Tour de France, unforgettable for the 17th stage that propelled him to victory and thrust him into controversy.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
Once the proud, acclaimed owner of the most famous yellow jersey in the world, Landis served as the made-you-look competitor in something called the Teva Mountain Games, one of those rowdy Generation Next celebrations of the endless adrenaline rush.
Pedaling as fast he could, Landis finished an unremarkable eighth in the single-stage mountain climb, covering the course in 30 minutes, 27 seconds, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt his body was burning regular rather than premium gas in this particular race.
“I need to train a little next time,” said Landis, who admitted he has been eating too many doughnuts of late.
He seemed genuinely happy to be back in a bike saddle.
“It feels good,” Landis said.
But the sight of him sweating for no reward except the calories burned was a little like watching Luciano Pavarotti yodel cowboy songs on the rodeo grounds at the state fair.
Not all his fellow competitors were thrilled to be overshadowed by the infamy of Landis, trailed by cops who provided security at an event in which the aerobic power was off the charts but household names were scarce.
“The story should be us athletes competing instead of poor Floyd taking a reprieve from his trials and tribulations,” said Coloradan Matt Carpenter, an ultra-distance runner who easily won the 10-kilometer trail race. “If he’s found innocent in the end, that’s great. But it seems weird to see him competing during the process.”
What is on trial is not Landis so much as his entire sport. That’s one serious guilt trip. No wonder he relished every breath of fresh mountain air. His trip to Colorado was a get-out-of-jail-free card.
“I think he’s getting a bum rap,” said Hawkins, a loyal fan convinced of Landis’ innocence, no matter what the evidence might have suggested during a recent arbitration trial to debate whether he took synthetic testosterone during the Tour de France. “I think he’ll prove to be totally innocent. The French are bitter.”
Landis was at these mountain games, where kayaks ran the river and climbers rocked, because he could be. There was no sanctioning body to stop him. There were no drug tests.
“Don’t be nervous! It’s just a little hill in Colorado,” a spectator shouted to Landis at the starting line, causing laughter throughout a crowd that included big, black dogs and toddlers napping in strollers as rain began to splat on the pavement.
Once a champion, Landis has been reduced to a gimmick to attract gawkers.
Of course, if Britney Spears can stay in headlines with nothing more than stupid human tricks, then maybe it no longer matters who wins or loses in sports, but how you play the fame game.
Guilty or innocent?
Does it really matter, so long as the tell-all book sells?
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-954-1053 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
