A Farewell To Lance

Although it appears to be something of a trend in sports lately, it is not often that an athlete comes along and dominates an era in the manner that Lance Armstrong has. I know the Tour De France has been over for some time now and has therefore disappeared from the American sporting conscience, but for me some memories still linger.

As I sat and watched the last time trial of this year's Tour, and ultimately the last time trial of Lance Armstrong's career, I realized that I was truly being treated to something special. I have long been a fan of the time trial, but I never really realized how much this event really is Lance's element. It is like watching poetry. The Armstrong of the time trial is the total opposite of the Lance that we saw hammering out a murderous pace up the side of the Alps. The TT is totally different. There is no hammering (at least not from Lance). Instead he lightly taps out a rhythm. It's almost like a dance. His entire body sways back and forth ever so slightly to the beat. The yellow jersey is (as it was meant to be) a beacon, drawing the attention of all around. Lance is known for having a slight hump on his back, and the yellow only accentuates it. Normally it would be viewed as bad posture, but on a bike it gives a certain edge to his appearance. The view from the motorcycle behind almost gives the impression that you are following an animal, a great beast on a chase. His lungs heave under the jersey and give the perception that this is not a domesticated animal. It is wild and on the charge. Despite that, there is little movement from his upper body and his broad shoulders quickly shrink away as his back flows down to his surprisingly thin waist. It is here, on his lower back, that the #1 is pinned right on the border between the yellow jersey and the black shorts. That one single vertical line on a white sheet of paper speaks volumes to the viewer. "Yes, in case there was any doubt, this is Lance." It isn't just that Lance has been assigned the #1, he is the #1. He is the grand patron of the Tour. The simplicity of the statement carries great power with it. After hovering at the waist, it is easy to get drawn back up to the broad yellow back, but doing so would be missing the greatest treat of all. Below his waist, hidden in the black shorts, Lance's legs explode in muscle. As Lance "lightly" taps out a pace, you can see the power that is flowing into the pedals. It is a beautiful thing to watch. The entire body in motion on the bike oozes of both confidence and contentment. Lance knows he's going to win, and there is nothing else he would rather do. You can see it in his eyes as he stands on the winner's podium. It's like looking into the eyes of a wolf after the kill. He loves this.

Alas, as I said before, it is over. Lance has moved on to a life of retirement. It is a shame. I don't say it's a shame because I particularly admire Lance as a person. I don't. I say it's a shame because, as I watched that last time trial I realized that there is no other rider who can even approach the level of grace and beauty on a bicycle that Lance has shown us for the last several years. This is the reason why I will miss him.