Attack of the Lance Trolls!

I had it coming, I guess. About a month ago, I published a little article in Slate that charted the rockier bits of Lance Armstrong's comeback: The testy encounters with the press, the headgames with his own teammates, the crashes and miscues, and just the general sense that things were not necessarily going according to plan. And yes, I did find some similarities between his own ultra-touchy, somewhat narcissistic behavior and that of a certain former Alaska governor.

It went up July 7, during the first week of the Tour. And then everyone flipped out. More than 125 comments, and the majority were, how to put it, highly negative. I was called pathetic, a loser, a "whiner"—a classic Armstrong-fan epithet. I was called other names, too, like "Bob." (Next time, LesterFreeman, try reading before you post.)

Some of the points were well taken. A number of people pointed out that journalist Paul Kimmage, who Armstrong reamed out in a Tour of California press conference, had "compared Armstrong to cancer."

Yep, it's called a metaphor. (Read Kimmage's actual column here.) And it's somewhat understandable that Armstrong would be angry. It's less understandable why he would then turn around and make this Nike ad, which not-so-subtly compares his own critics to....cancer. (Metaphorically, of course.)

Anyway: What's clear is that Lance Armstrong commands a devotion from his fans that is unmatched by any other sports star in memory. He's more than a hero to these people; he's a savior. And to cancer people, of course, he really is a kind of savior, if only by example. I get that. (And in fact, I still give It's Not About The Bike to my friends who get diagnosed.) But his appeal goes way beyond the disease. He's the only cyclist ever to tap into mainstream American sports culture.

The diehard Lance fan is typically a middle-aged male who discovered (or re-discovered) cycling during his hero's 1999-2005 Tour de France reign. It's a wholly different group of people from the geeky-misfit kids who were drawn to the sport in the pre-Lance era, like the kid in Breaking Away who digs bike racing because it is European, exotic and obscure. The Lance fans are closer to the Dale Jr. crowd, with their contempt for "The French" and perfervid America, Fuck-Yeah!-ism.

Subtlety and nuance are lost on this crowd. They see nothing wrong—or even boring—with their man's relentless, grinding domination of the world's hardest bike race, or the fact that in seven years he seemed to have suffered (by my count) exactly four bad days. They're the breed of sports fans who always root for the favorites: for the Yankees when they were good, or the Dallas Cowboys in the '80s. In Breaking Away, they cheer for the college boys, not the Cutters.

With other sports stars, imperfect private lives and off-field boorishness are acknowledged and forgiven. (Or at worst, ignored.) But Lance is not permitted to have flaws. Which is why a sizable army of fans seems to spend lots of time trolling the Webernets for any mention of their lord. If there's the slightest negative connotation towards Armstrong, then Boom! The comments section lights up.

Calm down, folks. It's not the end of the world if your hero has a few crashes, gives a pissy interview, or gets in a dust-up with his younger, stronger, faster teammate. It's part of the sport. Not everyone has to love him, either. How he deals with it—and how you deal with it—is what's important.

Which brings me back to my piece, which wasn't nearly as harsh as the commenters perceived it to be. The Palin comparison and the cheeky "Jerkstrong" headline (sorry, I couldn't resist) were provocative but meant to convey a serious point: If Armstrong wants to have a future in public life, as he seems to, then he's going to have to toughen up and learn to deal with (or at least accept) criticism. You can't be that thin-skinned. You can't have that much drama, all the time. And if the cycling press is too tough for you, then you're going to have problems in the real world. Is all I'm sayin'.