Seven Deadly Sins: My Pursuit of Lance Armstrong by David Walsh Page A

Charles, in that measured way of his.
    We could hear the gentle flow of air up John’s nose.
    After successfully defending the yellow jersey through the Alps, Armstrong’s position seemed unassailable even with two days in the Pyrenees to come. With Bassons banished there would be no dissent from within, but the French newspapers were still holding back. Le Monde and Libération , perhaps the two most thoughtful, were derisive when not dismissive and L’Équipe ’s most important writers – Bouvet, Rouet and Ballester – clearly didn’t believe.
    Because L’Équipe is part of the organisation that owns the Tour de France and because it gives so many pages each day to its coverage of the race, its refusal to warm to the championelect was significant. It was almost as if official recognition was being denied to the race leader. Armstrong felt it and a week before the end of the race he saw to Ballester in Saint-Gaudens, the last staging post before the Pyrenees.
    They knew each other as Ballester had been to Austin to interview Armstrong during his recovery from cancer. That friendship didn’t count for much in Saint-Gaudens as the rider held Ballester’s arm to draw him closer and then, loud enough for others to hear, said, ‘This journalist isn’t professional.’ Ballester was flabbergasted. ‘Hey, Lance, you can’t leave it at that. What’s this about?’ But Armstrong had disappeared into the US Postal team bus.
    That evening Armstrong called Ballester on his mobile phone, complaining that L’Équipe wasn’t being fair to him, and, like any good journalist, Ballester convinced the rider the best way to express his sense of injustice was in a one-on-one with the newspaper. They arranged it for the following day. Armstrong began by expressing his disappointment about what he saw as unfair treatment in the press. Ballester thought, ‘Fine, that’s part of the story,’ but he had some doping-related questions that would give the rider an opportunity to end the speculation.
    ‘Are you using any medical certificates?’
    ‘None,’ said Armstrong.
    ‘None at all? Not for corticosteroids or EPO?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    ‘Did you ever use this product to cure your cancer?’
    ‘No, never.’
    ‘Are you taking any medication to stop any return of your cancer?’
    ‘No, absolutely nothing. I just have to consult my oncologist, Dr Einhorn, once every four months.’
    Ballester is a tough, straight-to-the-point interviewer, utterly unfazed by the reputation of his interview subject. His piece on Armstrong wasn’t the hymn of praise normally sung to athletes on the cusp of their greatest triumph. Armstrong’s denials were convincing enough except for his insistence he had not been treated with EPO during his recovery from cancer, when he had. Under pressure, it seemed he couldn’t admit using EPO even when it was legal and proper to do so, and a normal part of cancer treatment.
    Jean-Marie Leblanc, the Tour de France organiser, was furious with Ballester for what he saw as unfair and overly aggressive questioning. Leblanc let Ballester know what he thought, complaining the interview read like a ‘police interrogation’. He also arranged a meeting with Rouet, the newspaper’s cycling editor.
    The following morning I met Rouet and he mentioned how upset Leblanc was with L’Équipe ’s coverage of the race, especially its treatment of Armstrong. Had Rouet been working for a newspaper that was totally independent of the race, he might have listened to Leblanc’s complaints but they wouldn’t have got past his interior walls. This was different.
    He and Leblanc had once been colleagues and they were now still branches of the same tree. On a commercial level, the Tour is a godsend for the newspaper, as circulation and advertising rise during the month of July. And within the organisation, the Tour de France organiser was further up the food chain than the newspaper’s cycling editor.
    Sensing that Rouet had