I'm sure by now you've all heard about Floyd Landis, a man we'd never heard of until about three weeks ago, and the results of a test taken by him after the stage 17 of the Tour de France that indicated extremely high levels of testosterone, a known effect of HGH. I really couldn't care what dude was taking. I don't care about bicycle riding, or whatever all the doofuses who haven't beaten cancer call themselves. But I do feel very strongly about parents who defend their children in questionable circumstances. If your son goes on a murdering spree, and all you can say is "He really was a good kid, it's a shame nobody can see that," you're stupid. You raised a little shit. Face it. So we'd like to applaude Mrs. Arlene Landis, who is willing to face the fact that her son's a horrible cheater. She's OK with him possibly "assisting" himself as long as it was in the name of pain relief for a condition he apparently needs major surgery on, but if it's something worse than that, then he doesn't deserve to win. She went on to comment:
I didn't talk to him since that hit the fan, but I'm keeping things even-keel until I know what the facts are. I know that this is a temptation to every rider but I'm not going to jump to conclusions. It disappoints me.
We applaud you, Mrs. Landis. Can we call you Arlene? You know Floyd got a good spanking as a kid when he broke the neighbor's window playing baseball. At the very least, he was probably forced to pay for it and apologize sincerely. That's what I call good parenting.