When I was a kid, my family didn’t have a lot of money. I wasn’t in a position to ask for something and be able to convince my parents to buy it for me. I had to wait until either my birthday in October or Christmas in December to get some big-time gifts. Then I would be on cloud nine for months as I would play with the presents that my parents would get me.
I remember when I was nine years old and I had to face quite possibly the biggest decision of my young life: Do I get myself a bike and learn how to ride it since some of the other kids now had them and we’re able to go places so much faster than walking or running? Or do I get myself a Nintendo and be able to invite my friends over to play video games with me?
Ultimately, the video games were too much to pass up and I had a Nintendo for my ninth birthday. All my presents as a kid after that revolved around the Nintendo. It was usually a new game, but sometimes another controller or a code book or a subscription to Nintendo Power. The sad part is that I never got the bike, have never owned a bike to this day and I still don’t know how to ride a bike.
And yet, I’ve always remembered that my dad and I would make it a point every summer of watching the Tour de France together. He loved riding his bike when he was younger, so it meant something to him and I always enjoyed watching any kind of sports with my dad.
At the time, TSN had a 30-minute daily show that highlighted each stage of the Tour de France, with the special stages of ridiculous climbs and descents extended to 1-hour shows. I always watched in awe as Miguel Indurain would dominate the bike race with such a puny, frail-looking body. Then the transition went from Indurain to eventually Lance Armstrong as the American became the dominant champion.
I would look forward to each stage to see if Armstrong could do the unthinkable yet again. Even though I don’t even know how to ride a bike, it’s so evident how much effort it takes to ride this historic race and I wished I could be like them.
But somewhere along the way, I lost my love for following the race. Surely, the repeated allegations of doping from just about everyone involved with the sport has a lot to do with it, but in thinking about Alberto Contador, I just don’t see the same kind of superstar status that Armstrong and Indurain had in their primes.
Maybe he’ll get to that point in the next few years if he continues to win or has a rival that can make things interesting, but the kid in me hates the idea that I decided to skip out on the final stage of the Tour de France today because I didn’t really care.