Book of the Month: 'The Secret Race: Inside the Hidden World of the Tour de France: Doping, Cover-ups, and Winning at all Costs' by Tyler Hamilton and Daniel Coyle

 

For his millions of devoted supporters, Lance Armstrong was an iconic figure. The cancer survivor, who roared back to win an unequalled seven Tour de France races was revered as one of the greatest sportsmen to have lived.

But now his reputation is in tatters. Last month, Armstrong dropped the drug charges filed against him by the US Anti-Doping Agency. Then came the hammer blow: the publication of ‘The Secret Race’, an explosive book written by Armstrong’s former team-mate, Tyler Hamilton. Hamilton’s first-hand account, written in collaboration with author Daniel Coyle, is an extraordinary insight into the murky and deceitful world of professional cycling. His compelling tales lay bare the extent of Armstrong’s drug-taking in graphic detail.

So, why did Hamilton tell the story? Why lift the lid on his former team-mate? Having lived through the drug-ridden culture of cycling, Hamilton could no longer bare the web of lies he was caught up in and so decided to reveal the truth to help both himself and his tainted sport move forward. There is also an over-riding sense that the book is an attempt by Hamilton to repair his own reputation, after he tested positive in 2004.

 

The book expertly grapples with the life-changing dilemma faced by every cyclist: to dope or not to dope. According to Hamilton, there is trend that occurs in the cycling word: ‘first year, neo-pro, excited to be there, young pup hopeful. Second year, realisation. Third year, clarity – the fork in the road. Yes or no. In or out.’ As with the vast majority of cyclists of the time, Hamilton elected to ‘join the brotherhood’ as he feared that a failure to ride faster could spell the end of his career.

Now he had become part of the ‘brotherhood’, Hamilton underwent a carefully controlled drug programme to try and obtain the optimum volume percentage of red blood cells in the body (without exceeding the forbidden 50%). Hamilton, therefore, took ‘red eggs’ (testosterone) for recovery once every week or two, and was injected with EPO (a blood booster) at races from team doctors.

It was at this early stage of his career that Lance Armstrong joined Hamilton’s Postal Team. The ultra-competitive Texan was intent on winning at all costs. As Hamilton put it, ‘Lance believed in his bones that if he worked hard, he was entitled to win every single race.’ Such was his determination to be the best, Armstrong was always afraid that ‘someone else was going to outthink, outwork and outstrategize him.’ With this being the case, the intensity in training sharply increased, as did the level of clever planning in the lead up to well-renowned races. Nowhere was this more apparent than the 1999 Tour de France. Here, Armstrong paid a Frenchman, Philippe, to ‘follow the Tour on his motorcycle carrying a thermos full of EPO and a prepaid cell phone.’ In between particularly gruelling stages, Armstrong called Philippe and he would ‘zip through the Tour’s traffic and make a drop-off.’ The leading members of the Postal Team, namely Armstrong, Hamilton and Kevin Livingston would then inject themselves with EPO before hastily getting rid of the evidence. With Armstrong on a ‘different level’ to the rest of the field, he stormed to his first yellow jersey.

 

Even after enjoying victory, Armstrong was hungry for more success. Wary of the measures taken by his rivals, he encouraged Hamilton and Livingston to accompany him to Spain for the first of what was to become another readily used technique in the cycling world: blood transfusions. The first time Hamilton had blood pumped into his body he felt a profound effect: ‘when you have more red blood cells, your body doesn’t obey the same rules…you go harder than you think you can.’ Such was the impact it had, riders went to desperate measures to carry out a transfusion. Most obviously, Hamilton recounts the time Armstrong had a blood transfusion while lying on the floor of his team bus.

All this begs the obvious question: how did cyclists such as Armstrong beat the drug tests? The answer, as Hamilton explains, was that it was remarkably straight forward: ‘In fact, they weren’t drug tests…they were more like discipline tests. If you were careful and paid attention, you could dope and be 99% certain that you would not get caught.’ This was because testers would only visit cyclists between 7am and 10pm, providing a nine hour time frame to take anything that would quickly leave the system. Moreover, the testing system was archaic. Remarkably, a test to detect EPO was only developed in 2000 (it had been commonly used since the late 80s). In comparison, doctors dealing with the cyclists were forward-thinking and intelligent. For instance, Hamilton refers to the ‘micro-dosing’ techniques (smaller doses of EPO injected directly into the vein which left the body quicker) employed by Michele Ferrari, a close confidant of Armstrong.

Bernhard Kohl, who finished 3^rd in the 2008 Tour de France, summed up the chaotic nature of the testing system when he said that ‘I was tested 100 times with drugs in my body. I was caught, but 99 other times, I wasn’t.’

But while Hamilton has now faced up to his past mistakes, Armstrong continues to live a lie. The powerful evidence submitted in this compelling book, though, is enough to quash Armstrong’s claims once and for all.

 

Book of the Month: 'I Am the Secret Footballer: Lifting the Lid on the Beautiful Game'

 

As Paul Johnson, deputy editor of the Guardian News and Media explains in the introduction to this book, ‘since he wrote his first column for the Guardian 18 months ago, there has been a sustained effort to unmask the Secret Footballer.’ It is the mystery that surrounds this unidentified footballer that initially makes this book such an appealing read.

The ‘Secret Footballer’ begins by setting out the purpose of the book, namely to provide an insight into ‘how exactly football really works, away from the prying eyes of the outside world.’

The player alludes to the perks of the job, which are fairly self-explanatory and become more ‘obscene the higher a player goes.’ That a Premiership footballer leads a life of excess and luxury is not exactly a revelation and so what is interesting is the fact that the player also refers to the problems and predicaments that the job poses. Indeed, he suggests that the disadvantages even outweigh the riches and fame that the profession brings. As the anonymous player reveals, ‘playing Premier League football is a dream come true, but away from the pitch I would happily swap almost everything.’

As well as this interesting excerpt, the player also discusses the frequency at which gambling occurs within the game. He says how “players who are international team-mates and friends of players at other clubs are forever ringing each other to ask: ‘How are you boys looking for tomorrow? Are you worth a punt?” While the player admits that the PFA has ‘done a lot of great work to help players who have fallen into the pitfalls of gambling and addiction’ to prevent the troubles that affected players such as Paul Merson in the 90s, it is still alarming to learn of the extent at which it takes place.

Even more disturbing is the passage where the player describes his battle with depression. While his depression does not reach the extremities and suffering of sportsmen like Marcus Trescothick and Robert Enke, it provides another example of how the illness can effect successful, idolised and rich personalities. The player says how ‘it can make the sufferer appear as if he is arrogant, rude, lazy and introverted, and that is on a good day.’

Moreover, the player admits that in the past year he has drunk ‘very heavily’ and eat ‘excessively in a pathetic attempt to develop a gut’ to avoid selection. It is only through the aid of heavy medication and anti-depressant drugs that the secret player has been able to overcome his demons.

A further intriguing area that the player refers to is the complex relationship that exists between supporters and professionals. The player suggests that the relationship is often strained and fractious due to the jealously of the fans ‘for the money [the players earn], the girls they attract and the lifestyle that some of them have.’ Furthermore, the fans regularly feel that the club ‘belongs to the community’ and so that if a player is performing below-par ‘the fans will feel it personally.’

This is a worthwhile and intriguing book, but one which leaves the reader yearning for more. In the introduction, the player says that ‘many of these stories I shouldn’t be telling you about. But I will.’ However, the anonymous nature of characters in the book ultimately means that any drama and bust-ups in the player’s career are left shrouded in mystery. In this way, it fails to reach the heights of other harder-hitting footballing autobiographies.  

2011 William Hill Sports Book of the Year: A Life Too Short: The Tragedy of Robert Enke, Ronald Reng

Ronald Reng’s tragic, yet compelling, insight into the life of Robert Enke, the German goalkeeper, was the recipient of the 2011 William Hill Sports Book of the Year.

In this harrowing tale, Reng documents the battle Enke faced with depression and demonstrates how even a sportsman at the peak of his career is not immune from the illness.

Reng works chronologically through Enke’s colourful footballing career, which saw him play for a string of Europe’s top clubs managed by the likes of Jupp Heyneckes and Jose Mourinho. Indeed, it was after his decision to leave Borussia Monchengladbach in his native Germany for Portuguese giants, Benfica, where we glimpse the earliest signs of Enke’s insecurities. In his lonely hotel room in Lisbon Reng writes: [Enke] buries his head in the pillow and weeps so despairingly that it sounds as if he’s going to choke on his tears.’ However, after weeks of frenetic deliberation, Enke begrudgingly elected to remain at Benfica and came to enjoy the happiest times of his career there, becoming team captain and snubbing an offer to join Manchester United.

Following this successful spell, Enke signed for footballing giants, Barcelona, in what ought to have been a dream move for the rising star. Instead Enke was made to feel unwelcome and unwanted by gruff manager Louis van Gaal and was overlooked in favour of rookie keeper, Victor Valdes. Enke finally made his Barca debut in a Copa del Rey fixture against minnows Novelda CF. In what Enke saw as a situation where he could only lose as Barca ‘would win 3-0 or 4-0 and no one would mention the goalkeeper or if it went wrong, he would get the blame’, Barcelona crashed out and the nervy Enke was publicly blamed and humiliated by team-mate Frank De Boer for his part in the acrimonious 3-2 defeat.

It was this game that sparked Enke’s first wave of depression and shortly afterwards he was loaned to Turkish side Fenerbahce. As he had experienced in Portugal, Enke felt a ‘mixture of fear, nerves and homesickness.’ He played just one match in Turkey, a 3-0 defeat to Istanbulspor where ‘coins, lighters and bottles’ were hurled at the German. Reng records how this plunged Enke into his lowest state of depression and he sought to end his career as he was ‘paralysed by fear.’ This led Enke to dissolve his contract at Fener and he returned to Barcelona an outlaw, his depression ‘getting worse every day.’

His wife, Teresa’s, pregnancy and a fresh start at Second Division club, Tenerife, where he was finally valued again enabled Enke to overcome his first state of depression. His daughter, Lara, was born with a serious heart defect and the severity of the situation meant that Enke had no time to focus on his mental state, as he was required to assist his wife and female daughter.

After impressing for Tenerife, Enke returned to his homeland with Hannover 96 and his outstanding performances saw him called up to the national side for the first time. However, tragedy soon struck when Lara died after a succession of heart operations and the Enke family was thrown into turmoil. In a role reversal, it was now Robert who was the rock in the family and he coped admirably and courageously with the loss.

Although Enke dealt bravely with his daughter’s death, his depression would come back to haunt him. With Enke now a serious contender to become the number one German goalkeeper, he found himself under the fierce scrutiny of the public eye. The burden of expectation weighed heavily on Enke and after suffering a freak hand injury ‘his view of the world narrowed again.’

Enke's second child – an adopted daughter called Leila – offered momentary joy, but he was struggling to overcome his second spell of depression. In a desperate attempt to conceal his illness from the public, Enke pulled out of Germany’s qualifiers citing an infection of the intestine.

At the height of his second depressive state, Enke played two matches for Hannover – primarily to end the growing speculation over his ‘mysterious illness.’ Remarkably for a man playing under the influence of heavy psychotropic drugs, Enke performed solidly, yet even this failed to mark a cause for celebration.

Two days after playing for Hannover against Hamburg SV, Enke took his own life by jumping in front of a train. While the headlines expressed shock and disbelief at the episode, Reng’s book shows how Enke faced a continual battle against the illness. Eventually, suicide appeared the only way to escape the torment of his depression.

 
Reng concludes by expressing hope that his book will enable sportsmen to more openly fight their demons, instead of hiding a supposed weakness. To prevent further tragedies such as this, one wholeheartedly agrees with Reng’s sentiment.  

2010 William Hill Sports Book of the Year: Beware of the Dog, Brian Moore

Brian Moore, or ‘Pitbull’ as he was affectionately known in the rugby world is remembered for his fierce reputation as a hooker for his country. Since retirement, he has become an outspoken and controversial commentator never afraid to ruffle a few feathers.

However, his autobiography ‘Beware of the Dog’ reveals a rather different side to the fearsome ‘Pitbull.’ It is Moore’s second book and is more open, revealing and disturbing than the first.

Moore begins with a soul-baring account into the sexual abuse he suffered at the hands of one his primary school teachers. Up until this point, Moore had hidden this dark secret, afraid of the ‘pain’ that he would inflict on his parents. But finally, after an eye-opening visit to the Child Exploitation Centre, Moore decided to tackle his demons and discuss his chilling experience. In his view, it was the only way ‘of dealing with this issue.’

As such, from the outset, our impression of Moore is far removed from the snarling hard-man of English rugby. Instead we see him as the innocent subject of shameful sexual abuse. Throughout, Moore’s book is an incredibly personal one: an adopted child, he finishes with a chapter on the difficulties and emotions that arose when he arranged to meet his biological mother.

The trauma Moore faced as a child moulded him into a fiery competitor ‘that was evident from about seven years of age.’ This ultra-competitiveness remained a part of Moore throughout his career. After England’s loss to Australia in the 1991 World Cup Final he believed that: ‘The team and I let ourselves and the country down and there is no easy way to seek absolution.’ He went on to say that ‘I took home my loser’s medal and put it in the loft. But even after two years, during which I had not looked at it again, its presence still haunted me and I threw it in the Thames.’ In a similar vein, following the Lions defeat to New Zealand in 1993, Moore refused to take part in a lap of honour as he ‘felt that I had let our thousands of supporters down, and I did not want to be involved in something that I thought would de derided by the Kiwis as an example of losers losing well.’

 

But Moore was not just a formidable competitor, he was also a deeply complex character. Throughout his career, Moore faced a constant battle against his alter-ego, Gollum (in reference to the J.R.R Tolkien character). Moore refers to this negative voice in his head as a ‘little monster’ that has ‘managed to taint so many performances by amplifying my mistakes’ and ‘inflicted many scars.’ For instance, after Moore’s call-up to the Lions tour in 1989, ‘[Gollum] reminded me that I should not be there; I would fail, who did I think I was.’ Even more extreme was the aftermath of the 1990 Five Nations defeat to Scotland that had provided Gollum ‘with an invaluable weapon’ and resulted in sleepless nights as Moore was ‘haunted by my failure.’

It was this self-doubt and fear that brought Moore to the brink of depression following his retirement from the game. As Moore put it: ‘I had bouts of terror that I could only control by firmly closing my mind to thinking about the subject.’ This breakdown led to the divorce of his first wife, Penny (Moore has been married three times) and led to ‘five mad years’ of partying. Although Moore overcame this distressing period in his life to become a well-respected commentator, he still believes that ‘there is a huge need to players to be taken through the likely effects of ending their playing careers.’

As well as this insight into Moore’s personality, the book also offers a fascinating picture into the state of amateur rugby. A far cry from the professional game today, Moore was called up to the national squad ‘when a late-night call located me in the middle of a heated row in an Indian restaurant.’ Moreover, every member of the England squad held down a full-time job and Moore discusses the difficulties of juggling his life as a solicitor with the demands of an international rugby player. Incredibly, the day before England played New Zealand in 1993, Moore flew to Glasgow and back to take crucial witness statements for a negligence claim. He also devotes a chapter to the shameful determination of the RFU to prevent the game turning professional, even when ‘shamateurism’ was rife (for instance players were being paid by a sponsor) and its amateur status had become ‘farcical.’

A brutally honest, disturbing, yet utterly compelling read.