Here’s an Instagram Story share that began on pal Justin’s page. It’s a screenshot (if I never hear, read, or type that word again it’ll be too soon…) of a note I sent to my pal (I hope) and late 1990s client Steve Frotheringham, he being a highly ranking person at B.R.A.I.N., an industry periodical.
The letter is missing a word or two, and I didn’t send it to Steve’s personal account so it could be read by the world. But I’m okay that it’s in the current issue. It regards a full page advertisement for a book written by a doping cyclist. After all these years, that may be an oxymoron.
I have no use, or room, or tolerance for dopers in my sport. It could very well be that it’s (really) their sport and I’ve been pushing back since I first crawled through an open window. Too bad atmo. Until I’m thrown out of the same window I’ll continue to push.
Mine is an Old World, pre motor-sports, pre-television, and certainly pre-internet era sport sport whose governors came up in the same corrupt system they now perpetuate. It’s 2020 for fuck’s sake. Can’t we do all this, and have fun, and make a little money, without the dopers?
My own trade magazine had a full-page advertisement for a book on training written by a multiple time offender. What the absolute fuck. I wrote my pal on the masthead, expressed my chagrin, and am now done with it. I’m that close to being done with all of it.
All This By Hand
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