In the past decade, we've seen an array of ethical controversies among sports heroes: the Tiger Woods scandal, the Jerry Sandusky and thus Joe Paterno scandal.
And at least in these two incidents, the verdict has been clear: Tiger Woods did terrible things as a husband, a father, a man. But as a golfer? He will always be THE Tiger Woods.
And while our outlook on Jerry Sandusky's legacy is clear, very few can deny that Joe Paterno will be remembered as one of the winningest and most admirable college football coaches of all time. Even despite the moral and legal questions we've swallowed since he was laid to rest.
But today, we face a more complex quandary: the case for or against Lance Armstrong. A man who brought cycling to the forefront by way of year after year of victories following year after year of battling cancer. A man who was overwhelmed with accusations of dishonest cycling conduct that we didn't want to believe because we didn't know what that would mean for his other pillar of success: the work he has done for the cancer community.
Yet here we are, listening to the media's murmurs about what Armstrong may or may not have said to Oprah. Patiently awaiting the moment when he tells us what we already wished we didn't know, that he did in fact do all of those bad things. And we're speculating how he could possibly defend not only his lies, but his attack on those who accused him of lying - those who were bold and angry enough to take a stand against a man who has been a beacon of light upon a sport in need of respect.
But before the witch trials begin, as someone who has experienced their own immediate family engulfed in the flames of a disease that we only barely understand, I too am going to take a stand. Because with Lance Armstrong, the tables are turned. Unlike Tiger Woods, Armstrong's mistakes were made in the context of his sport. Not in the context of his manhood. And unlike Jerry Sandusky, his wrongdoings were not enabled or supported by his philanthropy (as far as we know). Instead his philanthropy was in many ways enabled and supported by the success he may or may not have earned via those wrongdoings.
And while the morality of said mistakes - the lying, the cheating - is questionable, if we will not condemn Tiger Woods as a golfer for his lying and cheating in life, how could we condemn Lance Armstrong as a man, a philanthropist, for what he did in sport? How can we paint the man in the hospital bed, the charity board room, the trenches of a battle for cancer awareness and research, as evil when we know that so much of that money, credibility and celebrity earned through Tour de France wins empowered him to help transform cancer from a series of individual battles into a full-on global war?
Through his Livestrong Foundation, Armstrong's impact on the cancer community ripples far beyond the production of yellow bracelets. The foundation educates and advocates, from the grassy knolls of charity run finish lines to the highest chairs of our national government. It provides every level of support possible for those who have faced or are facing a fight against cancer, from the researchers trying to find a cure to the families trying to stay strong for the patients who cannot count on a tomorrow because of the threat of their disease.
All of this was made possible because this man took what he earned, in both clout and money, and put it toward a cause in much more need of attention and respect than competitive cycling could ever command. A cause that the Livestrong Foundation exposed many of us to from a young age and may one day succumb us to the same need for reliable education, advocacy and support that Lance Armstrong sought to establish through his organization.
This isn't to say that all good deeds enabled by bad ones are acceptable, because at times, the bad blatantly outweighs the good. But in the case of Lance Armstrong, for the sake of those cancer fighters who need the Livestrong Foundation, let us please at least spare his name. Let us spare the other side of the man and remind ourselves that sometimes we are black and white. Sometimes we are both good and bad. And if the good of a man's game can outweigh the bad of his moral mishaps, then for the love of all things righteous, the good of a man's contribution to humanity should be permitted to outweigh his unsportsmanlike conduct.
