Meeting the Man

Today I met Floyd Landis. And by "met" I mean he signed a poster for me. But we did have a real conversation. He expressed surprise at seeing such a large photo of himself and I explained that Baker and I had been given the posters because we'd been gracious enough to give up our front row seats (which were mistakenly left open) for the V.I.P. s at the event. I'm sure the exchange will be forever etched upon his memory.

This epic conversation took place at the grand opening event held at the new Chicago facility of VisionQuest Coaching, a company run by Robbie Ventura, Floyd's coach. I found out about the 2-hour presentation on the VQ website during the last day of the Tour. I signed us up, sure that Floyd wouldn't actually show even though he was on the list of special guests. When the whole doping scandal broke out, I was even more sure he wouldn't show. In fact, we had decided to scrap the whole thing. Until we got an e-mail last week from Robbie himself, assuring all those who registered that Floyd would indeed be there.

Overall, Landis seemed somewhat subdued but still in good spirits. He made a crack about not wanting to be held liable for giving people training advice that might be dangerous. He said he was already being sued by enough people. Robbie had tried to recreate the famous Bicycling magazine interview printed before the Tour, in which CSC rider Dave Zabriskie asked Floyd a set of questions. The two are supposedly really good friends and seem to do incredibly inane and stupid things when they get together, like challenging each other to cappuccino drinking contests in Italian cafes. (And we wonder why Europeans see Americans as animals?) Zabriskie lived up to his reputation as a 12-year-old trapped in a 27-year-old's body except today he seemed more like a ridiculously worn out adolescent as opposed to a hyper, caffeine-crazed one. He said a few things in a dopey voice and then sat slumped in his chair the rest of the time.

Unfortunately, I can't say that my faith in Floyd has been restored as a result of my interaction with him today. I've resigned myself to the fact that his true actions will forever remain a mystery to me. I'd really like to believe he didn't cheat, but it is impossible to know either way. Regardless, I'd hate to be him right now, even if I were still receiving standing ovations and being asked to sign giant pictures of myself. Even if he succeeds in eventually proving his innocence, he's got a long, hard road ahead of him to get there.