A Shot in the Dark: The Art of Appropriating Blame

If you've been following the Great Shattered Mavic R-Sys Debacle, you are no doubt aware that Mavic's team of forensic experts have responded to Ben Delaney's original article in which he describes how his front Mavic R-Sys wheel blew apart for no discernible reason. While they are still not able to explain the failure, they have predictably concluded that it was not their fault, due in part to the following:

The Mavic Engineering Team saw in Boulder:

- That the R-SYS front wheel had ovalized and the spokes had broken
- That the tire had separated from the wheel
- That the valve of the tire tube had been sheared off
- That the bike frame had broken on the main tube
Advertisement

The tire, the tube and the frame were not Mavic products.

This is damning evidence indeed. Certainly for best results, Delaney should have used the R-Sys in conjunction with a Mavic tire, inner tube, and frame. Sure, Mavic don't actually make tires, inner tubes, or frames, but that doesn't mean Delaney's component choice was any less irresponsible.

So, given that Delaney apparently had the temerity to "rock" a highly durable and well-engineered pair of R-Sys wheels along with a whole lot of other random crap for which Mavic can certainly not be held accountable, it's no surprise that Mavic is pointing their long yellow finger at the other crap:

Fact: The valve stem is missing. One can see on the picture attached the location of the hole in the rim where the valve stem to the tire should be.

A-ha! So the tube or the tire failed before the wheel. Furthermore:

Fact: The frame is made of carbon. The horizontal tube under the chest of the cyclist is broken. The fork (also made of carbon) is not broken and shows no evidence of scratches or impact.

A-ha again! (Or, if you prefer, "A-ha-ha!") So the frame may have broken first! And of course Delaney wasn't "running" an imaginary Mavic frame as he should have; instead, he was riding a Specialized. Mavic aren't saying it in so many words, but I think we can all read the writing beneath the rim strip here:

While on one hand I'm disgusted by Mavic's refusal to admit any sort of responsibility, on the other hand it's nothing less than fascinating to watch a company issue a statement that's basically the equivalent of blaming the dog for your own flatulence. Not only that, but they're doing it in a comically overblown fashion by conducting a parody of an investigation in which the conclusion is already a fait accompli and by beginning every statement with the word "fact." Actually, they're following a template already established by another famous French investigator, and the whole Mavic debacle is actually strikingly similar to the plot of the 1964 film "A Shot in the Dark:"

Inspector Jacques Clouseau: Facts, Hercule, facts! Nothing matters but the facts. Without them the science of criminal investigation is nothing more than a guessing game. So consider the facts in the case at hand. Fact: Maria Gambrelli was found standing over the dead man with a smoking gun in her hand. Fact: She had a big smile on her face. Fact: No other fingerprints were found on the gun. So what do we conclude, Hercule?

Hercule LaJoy: Why, that Maria Gambrelli committed the murder.

Inspector Jacques Clouseau: No, you fool! You are forgetting the most important fact: motive.

Hercule LaJoy: He beat her.

Inspector Jacques Clouseau: He was Spanish!

Hercule LaJoy: He tore her dress off.

Inspector Jacques Clouseau: Oh, don't be ridiculous. Would you kill someone who tore your dress off?

Of course, in this case the Mavic Engineering Team is Clouseau, the R-Sys is the beautiful Maria Gambrelli, and that crappy Specialized frame is the hotheaded Spaniard. Still, in fairness to Mavic, there is one crucial difference between them and Clouseau, and that difference is that despite his bumbling nature and flawed logic, in the end Clouseau was actually right about Maria Gambrelli's innocence. But that's why "A Shot in the Dark" is a comedy, and the Mavic debacle is a tragedy.

Speaking of tragi-comic investigations, with the Tour de France coming up the issue of doping in professional cycling is once again flaring up like a cold sore before a big date. And these days one of the biggest manifestations of HSV-1 on the lip that is the pro peloton is three-time Tour de France winner and former eponymous bike brand licensor Greg LeMond, who recently gave a speech at the "Play the Game" conference in Coventry, UK which can perhaps best be described as "epic":

At over 50 minutes, LeMond falls just short of breaking the hour record for self-embarrassment, but you've got to give him credit for making a valiant attempt. With all due respect to the scope of LeMond's accomplishments and his obvious concern for the integrity of the sport, it's very difficult to look past the string of non-sequitors and illogical conclusions he presents. Highlights include:

On his thorough preparation for the conference: "I'm still kinda making sense of notes I've been trying to throw together."

On the secret of his success: "I was very fortunate to be very blessed genetically."

On his current condition: "I'm still fat as hell."

On his current condition: "On power output wise in 4 months I got to where I was in my last year of professional racing."

On the state of the Tour: "In today's world most people...it's almost embarrassing to be called a Tour de France rider or a Tour de France winner because it's assumed that you cannot win the Tour de France clean and I just pose the question back, 'If everybody is clean and nobody's taking drugs and there's a three week race that's called the Tour de France and you start at the start line three weeks later there's going to be a winner and most likely there'll be finishers too, and so can you do it clean? Absolutely. Will it be slower? Probably. Will it be more dramatic? Absolutely.'"

On climbing then: "I got really good at chugging water or beer or whatever you want to call it. "

On climbing now: "I see people talking on the phone now riding a climb at the front of the Tour de France."

On cycling: "I don't recognize the sport anymore."

On his own speech: "Where was I?"

On a tangent: "I helped create the very first hardshell helmet...oh God, I even forgot where I was going with this. How the hell did I get on to this? (Laughs) Oh, God, I'm just having a brainfart."

On being confused: "It's got to be lead poisoning, that's what it is. Can somebody help me where I was? Oh, Dr. Ferrari!"

On summing things up nicely: "This is embarrassing."

On 80s cycling fashion: "I raced with a plastic cup on my head for aerodynamics."

On his 1989 Tour de France win over Laurent Fignon: "I miraculously, I would say miraculously I did come back...I won it, I won it by 8 seconds"

Lance Armstrong to Greg LeMond on the 1989 Tour: "Your win in 1989 is like mine, it was a miracle."

Greg LeMond to Lance Armstrong on the 1989 Tour: "Hold on, mine was not a miracle."

In addition to rummaging around in his head for things to talk about, he also spends some time rummaging around beneath the podium:


Basically, it's like watching a hybrid of Steve Carell in "The Office" and Chevy Chase in "Vacation:"


Again, it's easy to admire Greg LeMond as a legendary athlete, and he's more than deserving of that admiration. However, it's a bit harder to admire him as a moral crusader when he steps off a plane with some hastily-prepared notes and alludes to all the facts he could cite regarding other people's guilt if only he wasn't involved in litigation. Certainly drugs exist in cycling now just as they did before--and during--LeMond's heyday. However, LeMond's argument simply seems to be that the practice of doping is worse now than it was in his time, despite the fact that there was much less testing then. Even the rider he beat in 1989 freely admits to his own drug use:

So does that mean because Laurent Fignon cheated that Greg LeMond cheated too? No. But when Greg LeMond retired, he attributed his diminished results to mitochondrial myopathy. Now, it's because everyone else was cheating. As a cycling fan, I certainly wouldn't accuse LeMond of cheating, nor would I argue against the obvious fact that he competed against other cyclists who did or that riders continue to cheat today. Still, I can't help but feeling like LeMond is taking the Mavic approach by claiming there's something wrong with everything except him. Yes, like Delaney's R-Sys sometimes you are surrounded by crap--but that doesn't mean you can't fail too.