I have a friend who is your classic blunt speaking, book reading, cigarette smoking, semi-alcoholic Frenchwoman.

I forget how the topic came up, but back in 2006, she indicated that she took it as a matter of simple fact that, yes, of course Lance Armstrong doped. Apparently, in France, this is taken for granted.

And yeah, the evidence is mounting. I don’t believe it, but I am sufficiently self aware to know that the reason I don’t believe it is because I don’t want to believe it.

I caught a glimpse of him racing by in Paris in 2008 on the final day of his first win. But it wasn’t until 2002 that I actually started watching the Tour de France.

I was in Council Bluffs, Iowa, spending the night in the home of a Democratic candidate for state house (he eventually switched parties, which pissed me off, because I really liked the guy). There was a tv above the bed and I turned it on and scrolled through the channels before happening on the Tour de France.

It was a mountain stage and I completely transfixed.

Laurent ‘Jaja’ Jalabert won that stage. It was a very aggressive day, with frequent attacks – frequent enough that a beginner could see how tactics and strategy played into the stages.

But Jalabert didn’t win by strategy so much as guts and desperation. He was thirty-four years old and this was to be his last Tour de France, so he put everything into winning that Pyrenees stage. He attacked and pulled in front and just gutted it out until the end.

I was hooked.

Armstrong may have doped, but I don’t want to believe it, because I don’t want that magic night tainted.