Oh Babe, What Would You Say

I'm interested in this point of view.
Oh, Babe, what would you say.
A few of my regular readers here will know that in the 1990's, I did a bit of bike riding, specializing in quite long distances, like 217.888 miles in 12 Hours. That wasn't particularly good but I have never got more enjoyment out of any other thing I ever did that my talents might have suited me better for.
During those days and since, not only Lance Armstrong but almost the whole sport of cycling were brought into almost catastrophic disrepute on account of drug-taking although professional cycling never suffered as an industry. Lance eventually came up with the defence  that cheating is gaining an unfair advantage and, since everybody else in the Tour de France was taking drugs, it wasn't unfair that he did. You can take that argument or leave it but I suspect Lance paid his lawyer a lot of money to think of it rather than think it up himself.
None of my performances on a bicycle ever prompted anybody to suggest I was taking Performance Enhancing Drugs but there was always a sinister suspicion that somehow cycling was a cheating sport but I know because I was there that you couldn't wish to meet more honest, genuine and wonderful people than Janet Tebbutt, Andy Cook or Gwen Shillaker, to name but those three. They were massive heroes of mine that it was a privilege to ride in the same event as.
So, now it is paradoxically both sad and hilarious that it has suddenly occurred to the Athletics community that there might be lots of dodgy stuff going on in their sport, never mind Ben Johnson, the old East Germany or the debates about what actually constitutes a girl or a boy. That last one was never a problem for cycling when Beryl Burton was better than all the available blokes anyway.
I'm about as confident in Mo Farah as I am in Chris Froome, which is quite a high percentage of confidence while not being 100%.
So, let's hope that electing a devout Tory like Seb Coe is the answer to all their problems. It's probably needless to say that Steve Ovett was the one I liked. Complete class act, Ovett was, and not a prat like the other two.
But finally, this is the point. How much pop music would have to be disqualified if it was shown to have been enhanced, or at least done, under the influence of drugs.

Well, suddenly, once we've banned all of that, the picture becomes a bit clearer. So, really, the only legal pop music was Cliff, Cilla, Sugar, Sugar and, obviously, Pass the Dutchie from the left hand side by Musical Youth.
It really is great to be using the interweb again to offer my thoughts to the world.