Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a little boy who loved to ride on his bike. When he grew up the boy decided to become a professional bike rider and rode all over the world. Women went wild over him, the media thought he was the best, best bike rider in the entire world. He was showered with medals and money and money and medals. He got cancer, but the little boy kept on riding his bike and soon he no longer had cancer, and had become even more famous because he raised money to help cure cancer.
Alas, this story does not have a happy ending. It turned out the boy had been drugging his body so he could ride faster and faster. Finally, the boy did what anyone in America does after they have committed a boo boo. He went on Oprah Winfrey’s show, and let the world know that Lance Armstrong was sad.
Frankly, I could not care one bit who rides bikes so let us end this story without a moral ending.