Rant Your Head Off

It Takes A Thief

Published May 15th, 2008 in Doping in Sports. 8 Comments

There’s an old saying that the differences between cops and criminals is very subtle, because in order to catch a thief you need to think like one. Victor Conte, in an interview with the BBC (pointed out in a comment by Jean C on the previous post), dishes out some of what he knows about the doping practices of track and field athletes. In the interview, he says that the designer steroids era has come and gone.

“I will tell you that designer steroids are a thing of the past,” Conte tells the BBC. “People are back to using a variety of fast-acting species of testosterone.”

The BBC’s story also contains the contents of a letter that Conte sent to Dwain Chambers, a British sprinter who is cooperating with UK Sport, the agency that funds elite sport in Great Britain. UK Sport also runs the country’s anti-doping program. Chambers will be meeting with John Scott, the head of UK Sport on Friday to discuss what he knows.

“The intention is to open up a dialogue with UK Sport and to be as helpful as possible in their fight against doping. We will be taking the letter with us and discussing its contents,” Chambers’ lawyer Nick Collins told BBC Sport.

At the meeting, the British sprinter will not only tell Scott what he knows, he will also provide a detailed dossier of exactly what he did and when. Some of those details will come from the letter Victor Conte wrote to Chambers, in which Conte gives a very thorough description of the drugs Chambers was given, along with the timing. Conte’s letter also sheds some light on some of the methods athletes use to avoid being tested and to avoid being caught.

Conte offers a very interesting opinion of when athletes should be tested for banned substances.

[I]t’s my opinion that more than fifty percent of the drug tests performed each year should be during the off season or the fourth quarter. This is when the track athletes are duckin’ and divin’ and using anabolic steroids and other drugs. Let me provide some rather startling information for your consideration. If you check the testing statistics on the USADA website, you will find that the number of out-of-competition drug tests performed during each quarter of 2007 are as follows: in the first quarter there were 1208, second quarter 1295, third quarter 1141 and in the fourth quarter there were only 642.

In late 2003 I advised USADA about the importance of random testing during the fourth quarter of the year. They did initially seem to follow my advice because they increased the number of fourth-quarter tests in 2004, 2005 and 2006.

However, they failed to continue this practice in 2007. Why would USADA decide to perform only 15% of their annual out-of-competition tests during the fourth quarter? Let’s not forget that this is the off season before the upcoming summer Olympic Games. This is equivalent to a fisherman knowing that the fish are ready to bite and then consciously deciding that it is time to reel in his line and hook, lean his fishing pole up against a tree and take a nap.

On several occasions, I have provided detailed information to both USADA and WADA in an attempt to help them establish more effective testing policies and procedures.

Conte appears to suggest that the failure of these agencies to follow his advice leaves sports open to continued use of performance-enhancing drugs. In their efforts to curb the use of banned substances, perhaps USADA and WADA should listen to what Conte has to tell them. Conte certainly knows how things are done, having been at the epicenter of the whole BALCO scheme. If you want to catch a cheat, sometimes you have to actually think like one. Victor Conte should know. He helped a number of athletes cheat. So if he’s offering up his services and expertise, the anti-doping agencies might be well advised to seriously consider what he has to say.

WADA Load Of Nonsense

Published May 13th, 2008 in Doping in Sports and Floyd Landis. 13 Comments

Back in my youth, my friends and I would play pinball at a joint called The Roost, which was not too far from the Purdue University campus. The Roost was in a ramshackle old Victorian-style building, a converted farmhouse, about three blocks from my home and within easy walking distance for many of my friends.

Our approach to playing pinball was a variation known as “loser pays.” It is exactly what you think. Whoever lost the game paid for the next one. If you were good at pinball, you could go an entire evening without paying. If you were OK at pinball, you could break even — winning as often as losing — and in effect play for half price. If you were bad, you wound up subsidizing other people’s pinball addiction.

Me, I was pretty good, but not great. Somewhere between break even and play all night for nothing. Back then, pinball was cheap. A quarter bought two games (for one person), or a single game for two people. We always played against someone else, unless The Roost was deserted. And that only happened when the university students were gone on breaks.

Summer school meant fewer students on campus, but there were usually enough to keep the joint filled to capacity (and, had a fire marshall ever set foot in there, beyond capacity) every night of the week.

It seems, that in some respects, the notion of “loser pays” is on the minds of various people at the World Anti-Doping Agency these days. Yesterday, in various articles based on comments by John Fahey (the man who replaced Richard W. “Dick” Pound at the helm of the world-wide anti-doping agency), Fahey appeared to be suggesting that WADA would seek repayment of fees from athletes who lose their challenges to anti-doping cases brought against them.

The difference between what my friends and I knew as loser pays is that what is being reported as WADA’s idea sounds suspiciously like the agency intend for athletes to pay when they lose anti-doping cases and WADA wins, but not when the vice-a is versa.

Reuters, in a story with a sensationalist headline, reports:

“The normal process for costs and proceedings will be followed,” said Fahey, a former Australian finance minister who took over as WADA chairman from Pound in January.

“Clearly the decision has to be made and I understand that is not too far away but of course it is a matter for the tribunal of the Court of Arbitration for Sport to when they release the decision.”

“In the broader sense we have arranged to meet with the head of Court of Arbitration for Sport to cover a number of matters with him.”

“The figure (for Landis court costs) I keep being told is $1.3 million dollars that is what has been spent.”

The Reuters headline (Anti-doping agency to seek court costs from Landis) suggests that WADA wants compensation from Landis for the money they’ve spent on the cyclist’s appeal to the CAS. (And given all that came before, how the heck did WADA spend $1.3 million? Did they put on an entirely new case from scratch?) But the key information here is that first paragraph quoted above.

The Reuters reporter or copy editor didn’t bother to check what the normal process is. In searching through the current version of the World Anti-Doping Code, and the new version going into effect on January 1, 2009, I found absolutely no mention that the athlete is responsible for WADA’s costs in the event he/she loses an anti-doping case. In fact, the only mention I found (in the current code) says that an athlete is entitled to legal representation at the athlete’s expense.

Fair enough — well, kind of. Current practice has been that each side pays its own legal costs. (Which given the greater resources available to the ADAs leaves the considerable costs of a challenge by any athlete as a major deterrent to contesting an adverse finding in the first place.) And, while the UCI apparently hasn’t ponied up any money related to the Landis CAS appeal, WADA can’t exactly claim poverty here.

They’re sitting on a nest-egg of approximately $22 million (US) according to WADA’s 2006 financial statements, which given the dollar’s weakness doesn’t buy as much as it used to. Still, if I were sitting on that kind of money, crying poverty wouldn’t exactly be believable, would it? And it’s not believable when WADA does so, either.

In the broadest sense, WADA exists to fill several roles:

First, to create a consistent set of rules, consistently enforced throughout the sporting world,
Second, to develop or fund the development of techniques for catching those who break the rules,
Third, to educate athletes on the dangers of doping, and on why they shouldn’t break the rules against doping, and
Fourth, to prosecute or assist in the prosecution of cases against athletes caught doping

If they’re sitting on a slush fund of $22 million, they are quite able to pay for the case they put on in March at Landis’ CAS hearings. Does that absolve others who should be involved in the case (USADA and the UCI) from bearing the costs? That all depends on what agreements exist between the three regarding such expenses. Given the friction between the UCI and WADA lately, it doesn’t surprise me much to see these two groups at odds.

What does surprise me, somewhat, is the apparent non-participation (financially) of USADA. After all, USADA was the original prosecutor, they might wish to participate in the appeal (or do they not wish to be associated with this appeal, for fear that it may go in Landis’ favor and further diminish their win/loss record?).

Under the current way things are done, the Landis side bears no responsibility for WADA’s expenses in this case. Nor should they. WADA chooses to put on whatever case they desire, using whatever lawyers they wish, and bringing in whatever witnesses they wish, and so forth. They could defend against Landis’ appeal based on the record of the first hearings, or they can put on a whole new case. That’s their decision.

The meeting that Fahey and company seek with the CAS’ head is cause for concern. If WADA is looking to lobby for a change in the way legal fees are allocated, and if they’re looking to shift that cost onto the athletes, this would be a very bad thing indeed. The system is already stacked against the athletes who choose to fight charges that they doped, both in terms of the “judicial” process and in terms of the expenses likely incurred to fight.

This is already a powerful disincentive for anyone accused of a doping offense who might think of trying to defend themselves against such charges. Adding the possibility that such a challenge could also result in being responsible for the other side’s legal bills means that very few (if any) athletes will ever challenge an adverse finding.

This may well be what WADA and other authorities want. Or, it may be an unintended consequence that they didn’t consider. (Yeah, right.) As it is, the system is skewed towards the anti-doping agencies’ side. There are few real checks and balances on the ADAs power as things currently stand.

Now, while many of those accused of doping may well be guilty, the WADA code gives all athletes the right to defend themselves and the right to a fair hearing. It does not impose the obligation of paying WADA’s (or any other organization’s) legal fees should the athlete lose his or her case.

If the CAS were to go along with a hair-brained scheme to institute any form of loser pays, then it needs to be balanced so that both sides are in financial jeopardy. Forcing athletes to pay for the ADAs legal fees could result in those who are fighting merely to fight, rather than because they are innocent, to think again. That, in its own way, prevents cases without merit (on the athletes’ side) from being pursued.

But to balance things out, the ADAs have to be in jeopardy, too. Nothing prevents them from pursuing a flawed case based on poor lab results or imperfect evidence. In the pursuit of such cases, it’s the athlete’s reputation that is destroyed, along with the athlete’s ability to earn a living. When Floyd Landis or another athlete chooses to fight doping charges, no one on the prosecution’s side is in jeopardy of losing a job, never being able to work in his/her current career in the future, or of his or her reputation being forever tarnished. Well, not unless they do something seriously unethical or downright criminal, that is.

One way to put some brakes on the ADAs would be to require them to pay legal fees, and lost current or future income, to the athlete, in the event that ADAs lose their case against said athlete. That provides a powerful disincentive when it comes to pursuing cases of dubious quality or merit. Knowing full well that they could be on the hook for millions of dollars, the decision-makers who choose to pursue anti-doping cases, or who determine whether an athlete’s sample results prove an adverse finding, will need to be more careful in which cases they choose to pursue.

And, they will have an incentive to improve the laboratory procedures and the science behind the testing so that their results will stand up to scrutiny in a challenge — without the need for a presumption of infallibility. This could result in some of the less well-grounded cases from being pursued. And that could result in innocent athletes being spared the turmoil and trauma associated with accusations of doping. (It could also mean that guilty people may not be pursued, but with higher standards and improved detection methods, one would hope such instances would be minimal.)

The current system, where each side pays their own expenses, may well need to be changed. But changing it to a loser pays system when the athletes lose, and not when the ADAs lose, would only serve to further skew things towards one particular side — that of the ADAs. Despite the WADA code’s statements that athletes have the right to a speedy and fair hearing, such a change would further stack the deck against the athletes.

And in the end, such a form of loser pays would be a monumentally bad policy.

Update: Bill Hue points out in a comment below that WADA’s effort to recover expenses appears to be based on a section of the CAS’ code, and not based on WADA’s code. The section Bill cites is neutral to who wins, meaning it could equally be the case that WADA could be on the hook for the athlete’s costs, should the athlete prevail. By seeking to recover legal fees from the athletes, the agency may well be opening the door for athletes to seek legal fees from the agency. Unintended consequences happen.

Anti-Doping For Idiots

Published May 10th, 2008 in Doping in Sports and Humor. 11 Comments

David Millar recently wrote at Bicycling.com that he will eventually write an “Idiots Guide to Anti-Doping.” While he’s considering what to write, here are a few random thoughts rolling around in my head. (File this under the heading “Dark Humor.”)

The really condensed version of Anti-Doping for Idiots, in less than twenty five words: Doping is cheating. We’re going to catch you if you cheat. We’ll destroy you if we catch you, so don’t even bother. Any questions?

Now, for those who need the longer version:

First, let’s start with a little thing called the Prohibited List. If you take one of the drugs listed here, or use a banned training technique or banned technique in competition, you’re guilty of doping.

Don’t even think of using anything on that list, unless you’ve got a doctor’s note and have filed it with the proper authorities. And even if you do, that doesn’t mean we’ll let you use the drugs. And it won’t save you if you manage to take more than the allowed amount (see also Alessandro Petacchi: One Puff Over The Line).

Oh, and even if you don’t know what these things are, or what they do, or even how to pronounce the names, it doesn’t matter how you’re exposed to them. This is strict liability. If it’s in you, you’re guilty. Doesn’t matter how it got there, or what the quantity. If it’s found in you, you’re guilty. Next case?

If you’re foolish enough to think you can avoid detection, think again. Not only can we catch you, we will. And if you’re an athlete in cycling, track and field, baseball, football (real football or that American invention, doesn’t matter), weightlifting, swimming, cross-country skiing, and any other sport we deem to be full of cheats, you’re guilty even if we haven’t caught you yet. It’s just a matter of time. `Fess up now, before it’s too late, and we’ll go easy on you.

How do we catch you? Simple. It’s science. And the science behind our detection methods is infallible. Don’t even bother arguing that it isn’t. (And the labs are infallible, too, so forget arguing that they can’t do their jobs right.) The arbitrators will slap you silly for even suggesting that our methods aren’t up to scratch. Well, that is unless you take your case all the way to the Court of Arbitration for Sport. But we’ll bleed you dry trying to clear your name before that occurs, so don’t expect you’ll have the resources for an appeal.

By the way, did we mention it will cost you a bloody fortune to defend yourself against an anti-doping case, and the odds are strong that you’ll lose? Not a millionaire? No access to quality legal advice? See the previous paragraph before you decide to fight the charges.

You were caught by one of our tests, but you still insist you’re not guilty? Really? And you expect us to believe that story? Look we didn’t just fall off the turnip truck yesterday, bub. You’re busted. Take your punishment, cry on cue and say you’re really, really, really sorry. It was a terrible mistake. You intended to dope, but never got around to it. Wah.

All will be forgiven. And we’ll even let you compete again, once your suspension is finished. We might even make you an “anti-doping ambassador.” (Hey, it worked for David Millar and Ivan Basso — and Basso’s suspension hasn’t even ended, yet.)

Remember: Doping is cheating. We’re going to catch you if you cheat. We’ll destroy you if we catch you, so don’t even bother. Any questions?

Don’t follow the advice above, and you’ll be on the road to ruin — financial and otherwise.

Strange Things Brewing

Published May 7th, 2008 in Doping in Sports, Ivan Basso, Oscar Pereiro and Patxi Vila. 21 Comments

Late last week came word that a “top rider” may have been nabbed for doping by the UCI’s new biological passport program. To both Pat McQuaid’s and Anne Gripper’s credit, neither divulged the name of the rider who might be facing anti-doping charges. Nor did they identify the supposed four other riders from “other disciplines” in cycling who may also face charges stemming from results related to the new program.

This week, we have the puzzling case of Patxi Vila (it’s the second story on the page), who appears to have tested “non-negative” on a testosterone screening done as part of an out-of-competition test at Vila’s home on March 3rd. Much like the early days after Floyd Landis’ results were leaked to the press, there appears to be a dearth of information as to what, exactly, Vila’s results are. According to CyclingNews.com:

“They announced to me that the detected quantity was small, but that there has been an irregularity,” said Vila. “It’s a positive test, but until the counter-analysis has been carried out nothing can be said officially. An attorney and endocrinologist, who saw the specimen, said that the quantity is very little.”

On the face of this, it is an odd statement, especially given all of the information known about testosterone testing these days. What’s missing in the story is any reference to a T/E ratio and what the result was, or whether this data comes from CIR/IRMS analysis. Or, for that matter, whether the test that implicates Vila is actually the urine-based test that was used in the Landis case and many others. Pointing in the direction of at T/E result, but only vaguely is this:

“We heard that there had been this control with results that are slightly above what is allowed,” added [Lampre Press Officer Andrea ] Appiani. “We know that he has asked for a counter-analysis and we will wait for the counter-analysis results before we take any decision.”

Slightly above what is allowed could mean that the T/E ratio came in slightly over 4:1. Or it could mean that the CIR studies done on the A sample were slightly above the cutoff to declare a positive result. Exactly how far above would be interesting to find out. Within the lab’s margin of error for the test (which means no adverse finding should be declared), or above the lab’s margin of error. How many metabolites were measured? How many were elevated?

At this point, there are many more questions than answers. And, there’s yet another possibility. That Vila is, in fact, the “top rider” that the UCI’s biological passport program has put into the hot seat. Because we don’t know for certain what test was used, or the results from that test, it is possible that Vila is caught in this situation due to results of a blood test, instead.

For the moment, Vila’s team is sticking by him.

“He is an exemplary rider and we have faith in him,” Lampre Press Officer Andrea Appiani told Cyclingnews. “We got the news yesterday [from the UCI via fax] after we returned from the long weekend holiday.

And Vila has learned something from the scandals of the last two years in terms of handling questions from the media.

Vila, whose legal representative is the same one as Italian sprinter Alessandro Petacchi, did not offer any explanation for this incident. “I could give you any excuse, but I won’t do it,” he said. “I have a quiet conscience. I already gave an explanation to my team. They have known me for years; I have spent a lot of time with them. I know that I am putting my career on the line, but the only thing I can do is to wait.”

Time will tell whether Vila is caught up in a case based on the urine-based testing protocols, or whether he’s caught up in a newer kind of case. One thing is certain, these kinds of cases are tricky to decipher. As CyclingNews.com summed things up:

Testosterone analyses is always problematic, because the parameters for its measurement are difficult to handle, as seen in the cases of Spain’s Iban Mayo and American Floyd Landis.

Truer words.

Irony, Thy Name Is Basso?

Trust But Verify found a little tidbit on Yahoo! Sports that suggests Ivan Basso may become an anti-doping ambassador, of sorts, for the UCI. Seems that a certain Pat McQuaid is taking the eminently reasonable position that once he’s done his time, all is forgiven.

UCI president Pat McQuaid backed the news that Basso will come on board in the fight against drug cheats.

“He has made a mistake,” McQuaid said. “He has paid. I believe he will interpret this role to the best of his ability, for us and for the Italian cycling federation.”

One has to wonder, is Basso getting a break because he’s admitted his mistake and served his time gracefully? Or would McQuaid cut a similar break to someone who served his time, but didn’t kowtow to the powers that be? Inquiring minds want to know.

Certainly, someone who’s been there and done that makes for a very credible spokesman. Sort of like David Millar…

We Don’t Make The Rules, We Just Enforce `Em

And then, of course, there’s the case of one Alessandro Petacchi, he of the extra puff at last year’s Giro d’Italia. The CAS ruled a few days ago in Petacchi’s case, and the ruling didn’t go the Italian rider’s way — despite the fact that the CAS panel found that Petacchi “wasn’t a cheat.” And that he apparently made a mistake in how many puffs he took from his asthma inhaler last May. Or, to put it in the words of the panel:

The Panel is satisfied that Mr. Petacchi is not a cheat, and that the adverse analytical finding in this case is the result of Mr. Petacchi simply, and, possibly, accidentally, taking too much Salbutamol on the day of the test, but that the overdose was not taken with the intention of enhancing his performance. Indeed, it would be an unsusual way of attempting to enhance performance to take the prohibited substance after the particular event had concluded.

But there is the small matter of strict liability, after all. And Petacchi’s test results for salbutamol exceeded the UCI and WADA’s limit by a fair amount. (Petacchi’s test result showed a concentration of 1352 nanograms (ng)/milliliter (ml), more than 300 ng/ml above the official threshold concentration of 1000 ng/ml.) Since the panel had some discretion, they didn’t impose a full two-year ban on the Italian.

The panel, in their ruling, goes on to find that while Petacchi may have been negligent in taking too many doses from his inhaler, he bears “no significant fault or negligence.” This, in turn, allows the panel to reduce the term of Petacchi’s suspension. And here’s where things get interesting. The Panel’s ruling notes:

In light of the specific circumstances of the case the Panel has concluded that it would be just and proportionate to reduce the period of ineligibility to one year. In doing so the Panel has taken into account that the amended WADC, which the International Federations will have to implement by 1 January 2009, would qualify Salbutamol as a “specified substance” and would allow for the sanction to be reduced down to a reprimand (with no period of ineligibility). Even though the new WADC is not yet in force the Panel takes the view that it is both equitable and fair, and in compliance with Article 255 of the ADR, to take these matters into consideration when exercising the discretion given to it by Art. 275 of the ADR.

OK, discretion is allowed. And in 7 month’s time, Petacchi would qualify for a slap on the wrist, rather than a ban. So what’s a panel to do? They gave him a year, taking the two months he didn’t compete earlier in 2007 and adding that to the time he’s been sitting out of competition since November 1st, so that his ban will be over and he can start racing again at the beginning of September.

What puzzles me is this: If the panel can see fit to exercise discretion, and they acknowledge that not too long from now this offense wouldn’t merit a suspension, couldn’t they have exercised a little more discretion? Like time already served? One year for taking one puff too many on the old inhaler seems like a pretty steep bit of punishment. Disqualifying his Giro results seems a pretty strong, sitting out for somewhere around nine months seems pretty serious, too (though some of those months included cycling’s “off season”). Making him sit out an entire year seems over the top, especially when the panel, themselves, said that they didn’t think Petacchi’s intention was to cheat.

Astana Gets A Shot At Redemption, Sort of…

And finally, the team that was once persona non grata at the Giro, Astana, is now actually in the race. Just one week before the race was due to begin, RCS announced that the Kazakhstan-based Astana would be allowed to race. It’s going to be interesting to see how well Andreas Kloden, Levi Leipheimer, Alberto Contador and company will fare, especially given that they haven’t been focusing on the training for the first of the three Grand Tours. Does this mean that a change of heart over at the ASO might be in the offing? As a great sage once said, “Not bloody likely.”

Alas, Poor Oscar …

Right, just one more. Really. I just can’t resist. Oscar Pereiro is at it again:

“This year has started totally different for me compared to last year, which was very complicated, difficult and caused me to lose a lot of the motivation I had to train and race and to live for cycling,” Pereiro told journalists in a press conference last week. “This year, I’ve recovered the (motivation) to train and race and do things well.”

Though nagged by bronchitis that forced him to leave early from Paris-Nice and to bypass the Vuelta a Castilla y León in March, Pereiro at least has his head in the right place.

He says he’s enjoying racing again and has rediscovered the necessary motivation and drive to focus on training and preparation rather than being distracted by fiestas and questions revolving around the 2006 Tour.

“I want to be one of the protagonists again at the front of the Tour,” he said. “I’m not going to say a number where I hope to finish, but just that I want to recover my position in the Tour bunch. Since 2004, the Tour has been an obsession for me and I want to return to the level where I can shine on the stage once again.”

Umm. Let’s see. A certain someone “won” the tour based on two things. First, an incredible gift by a (former?) friend, whose team allowed Pereiro to recover darn-near 30 minutes and be vaulted into the lead of the 2006 Tour de France. And second, due to a certain ruling that’s currently being appealed. Were I a competitor at that level, this is not how I’d want to “win” cycling’s biggest event. And, were I thrust into such a situation, I’d certainly remember that my win has an asterisk by it. As in, except for a half-hour gimme and a certain doping case, a certain someone would have finished way the heck out of contention.

Racejunkie has a pretty good take on it:

Quote o’ the Week (and lacking stenographic skills or perfect memory, I paraphrase): from we love Phil Liggett during Sunday’s Tour of Romandie coverage, discussing Oscar Pereiro’s performance: “Of course, he’s going to have to do a lot better than that, if he hopes to win another Tour de France, if indeed he won one in the first place.” Right on Phil, and forza Floyd!

For all his whinging, perhaps Pereiro needs an attitude adjustment. So here it is: Oscar, you’re a professional cyclist. You’re paid to ride your bike. Paid to compete. And paid to produce results. The folks signing your paycheck don’t want to hear excuses like the tripe you’re peddling about last year. You owed it to your team and your sponsors to put out your best effort. If you didn’t, then you failed them. Perhaps you’d like to refund them some of last year’s salary?

Being a professional means overcoming whatever frustrations and annoyances are thrown your way. Remember, you have a friend in California who’s been spending the better part of everything he has to clear his name, and who hasn’t been able to work as a pro cyclist for nigh on two years now. Get over yourself. Your “victory” in 2006 amounts to a great deal of good luck. Be thankful for the luck, and be respectful of the people who helped you get there — one of whom has the name Floyd.

Or, to put it another way, there’s an old story in Hollywood that goes something like this. One day an actress spoke to her director about a scene in the movie they were working on. “What’s my motivation?” she asked the director. “To get paid,” was his response.

`Nuff said. Capiche, Mr. Pereiro?

Passport, Please?

Published May 3rd, 2008 in Doping in Sports, Politics and UCI ProTour. 22 Comments

It was bound to happen sooner or later. Various news organizations are reporting that the UCI’s new biological passport program has turned up a small number of suspicious cases, which in turn have produced some doping cases that are being actively pursued.

One of those cases involves a top-level professional road cyclist. In what’s a rather unusual set of circumstances, the alleged doper’s name is not being released publicly. And until someone is consistently unavailable to race for a variety of increasingly lame sounding reasons, we may not find out who the hapless person is for a while. How many out there have a certain amount of curiosity as to who it is? Come on, be truthful now.

One of the interesting things about the story (various versions can be found at VeloNews.com, ESPN.com and CyclingNews.com), is that of more than 2100 tests conducted on more than 850 cyclists, 23 cyclists’ results came up suspicious. And of those, 5 cyclists — across all of the various cycling disciplines — have results that may lead to sanctions. According to CyclingNews.com, of the five riders who are facing the greatest scrutiny:

[O]ne rider is expected to be sanctioned, while four others are also facing potential bans.

Alright, let’s break down the numbers a bit. Remember that the biological passport system collects data on athletes over time and looks for variations in the athlete’s hormone and other biological parameters (like hematocrit and hemoglobin values, for example) that may indicate the use of various blood doping techniques, or the use of testosterone or other steroids.

It’s a bit of a black box, in that the exact criteria for determining what constitutes a big enough variation to provoke suspicion hasn’t been widely published — if at all. Let’s dig in to the recent stories.

By the reports, a total of 2172 tests have been performed on at least 854 athletes during the first four months of the year. At the current pace, the UCI would complete fewer than 6600 tests during the course of 2008. CyclingNews.com quotes Anne Gripper, UCI’s head of anti-doping activities, as saying:

“Last year we completed just over 9,000 tests: this year we will be doing just over 18,500,” Gripper told the Associated Press, although she expects the volume of testing to go down once they’ve established good baseline values for all the riders. “This is the peak year of testing. Once we have strong profiles we won’t need the same volume of testing,” she said. “Given the enormity of what we are doing it has been going well. We are getting the full support of the riders and teams.”

Odd. At the current pace the UCI won’t even come close to last year’s volume of testing, let alone reach their target of 18,500 tests conducted. Glad to know that the UCI is getting the full support of riders and teams. I’d be surprised if they weren’t. Fighting against such a program would certainly look odd to many people, and some would take that as a tacit admission that anyone fighting against the program is involved in doping.

Now, back to the number of tests and the number of riders tested. It turns out that at the current numbers indicate that, on average, each of the 850+ riders has been test 2.5 times since the beginning of the year. While the idea of the biological passport may hold a great deal of promise for the long term, one has to ask: Is this enough testing on the athletes to really and truly establish what each cyclist’s individual patterns are?

This is what I find puzzling: The idea of creating these “passports” is to look at an athlete’s values over time and chart the person’s natural variations. I find it hard to believe that two or three data points for each item the program tracks can give a clear picture of each person’s “normal” results.

Let’s break it down a little further. If 854 riders have been tested and 23 had results that merited further investigation, that means 2.7 percent of the riders tested might possibly be doping in one form or another. This is an interesting result. The last year that I saw numbers for WADA’s test results was 2005 or 2006, when cycling had about 4 percent of A sample tests result in adverse findings. How many of those cases resulted in sanctions is unclear.

But looking at the number of riders who are in the hot seat right now, less than one percent of riders tested (approximately 0.585 percent, actually) may be proven to be dopers. Another way of looking at it is that less than one quarter of the “suspicious” results have proven (allegedly) to be doping related. Pretty small numbers, wouldn’t you say?

Does this mean that a sudden wave of playing by the rules has swept over professional cycling? Well, anecdotally, doping has been nigh on endemic in cycling for, like, forever. So with the increased scrutiny, perhaps a number of those who were doping in the past have now been scared straight. Pat McQuaid seems to think so, as CyclingNews.com reports:

“We are seeing a major change at the top level of the sport,” McQuaid claimed. “We all are aware that cycling has a doping problem and for 40 years has been dealing with a doping problem. We needed to go at it with a huge campaign in which we bombarded athletes with tests and the biological passport program gave us that opportunity.”

Perhaps there’s another explanation. Maybe the doping problem in cycling wasn’t that bad all these years. Will we ever have any way of being able to compare the pre-biological passport days to the new, improved system for catching cheats? Again, perhaps. The Guardian adds another interesting little tidbit, not seen in the other articles listed above:

In addition to the biological passport programme a “doping audit”, commissioned by McQuaid in the aftermath of Floyd Landis’s positive test at the 2006 Tour de France, is nearing completion. Its findings are expected to be published before this year’s Tour begins on July 5.

What, exactly, is a doping audit? Is that like an investigation that might give us a true sense of how pervasive the problem of doping in cycling has been? Will the audit’s findings be made public? It will be interesting, indeed, to see what this audit will have to tell us and whether it might shed some light on just how bad the problem has been in the past.

Back to the biological passport system. As I said earlier, it’s a bit of a black box. And, apparently, the full workings of the program haven’t been ironed out just yet. ESPN.com’s article adds this to the mix:

The UCI executive committee meets next month in Copenhagen, Denmark, to finalize its rules for operating the passport program. McQuaid said the program results are available to WADA despite a split between the two organizations.

So, let’s get this straight: Twenty three riders had results that warranted further investigation. Five riders are facing some sort of disciplinary action due to the results of tests being used to build their biological passports. And the final rules for how the program operates haven’t been decided. What’s wrong with this story?

And further, VeloNews.com reports that nine anti-doping experts from Australia, France, Germany, Italy and Sweden,”would be given the job of analyzing all the blood profiles submitted by hundreds of professional riders.” Is it me, or does that sound like they haven’t been involved the work of analyzing samples up to now?

VeloNews.com also tells us:

The UCI qualify the passport scheme as an “efficient deterrent”, but admitted they would not be naive when it came to potential drugs cheats at the Giro d’Italia.

“We can never be 100-percent sure that a rider isn’t doping. We can’t control the decisions taken by riders before and during a race,” the UCI added.

“But we can certainly influence their decisions by conducting an effective anti-doping program. Riders will be completely deterred from doping when they feel that the risks of being detected and banned exceed the potential benefits of using doping methods and substances.”

A system like the biological passport could well be a mighty deterrent to those who are inclined to cheat. Let’s hope that the scientific details of how the program is supposed to work are solid. But given what’s been reported in the last couple of days, I have some misgivings as to just how solid the program’s foundation may be.