Pro Cyclist Accused of Doping Actually 'Fesses Up

Bort Schmelve, third-year pro with the Russian OGO-Vlermdeher squad, recently tested positive for blood doping resulting in unusually high hematocrit levels in his biological passport.

Addressing the media in a press conference Tuesday, Schmelve openly admitted his guilt.  “Yep, I did it.  I doped and got popped.  I am prepared to accept whatever punishment the UCI hands down.  I regret it, but I knowingly and willingly did something wrong and understand that I now must face the consequences and pay the penalty.”

Schmelve’s statement elicited a swift and strong reaction from the UCI.

“We cannot just accept his bold confession,” explains UCI spokesperson, Jacques Vassier.  “This is unacceptable behavior for a rider accused of doping.  There are proper protocols.  If he thinks he can get away with this, he’s got another thing coming.

“First, he must publicly and vehemently deny any wrong doing and proclaim an exhaustive list of possible explanations.  He must do his homework here to understand what excuses his predecessors have used.  Chimeric twins, tainted beef, poppy-seed muffins, South American candy, and shots of whiskey are some of the classics.  But they’ve been disproven – he must impress us with something new and outlandish like ‘I thought I was putting Splenda in my coffee but it turned out to be cocaine’ or ‘my elevated testosterone levels were from watching a WWF pay-per-view marathon.’  We may go lighter on him depending on the novelty and creativity of his explanation.

"Then, he must assemble an army of lawyers and medical experts to provide their own arguments and evidence debunking the UCI’s position.  These investigations and proceedings must be dragged out for many months if not years.  He must sue and file every legal claim imaginable to ‘defend his honor’ and postpone as long as possible his inevitable suspension from the sport.  Filing a lawsuit against ‘persons unknown’ for being ‘poisoned’ is one of my personal favorites.  That was some real out-of-the-box thinking there.

“When it is ultimately clear that he is guilty of doping, he must still, under no circumstances, admit guilt or apologize to his fans.  Instead, and only then, must he sheepishly accept his ban and skulk off into the shadows to sulk for a few years before ‘launching a comeback,’ all the while maintaining his innocence.

“After returning to the sport and floundering fruitlessly for a couple of more years (without the benefit of doping), he must then retire.  It is then common to write a book – perhaps admitting doping, perhaps not – and/or to return to the sport by creeping under the slipcover of a team as director or assistant.”

By accepting that he got caught straight away, “(Schmelve) is brazenly defying this rich tradition.  It is an affront to the sport and frankly, the fans deserve better.  I mean, c’mon – at least put up some kinda fight.  It makes for good drama,” continues Vassier.  “He must respect and adhere to established processes without exception.  By admitting guilt without throwing a tantrum like a 2-year-old first, we may increase the severity of his punishment.”

“He’s really asking for it.”

Unknown Rider Wins Prestigious Bike Race, Tests Positive for Spinach

“Everybody just went ‘Whoah…who the hell is that?’ when he shot out of the bunch,” explains Kjel Schokked. “Immediately the speculation began. Riders began whispering he’s probably leafing.”

Leafing is the common slang of the pro cycling peloton for eating spinach – the iron-laden vegetable banned for its potent and often unpredictable performance stimulation.

WADA has yet to perfect testing protocols to detect the presence of the highly nutritious leafy green. Abuse is feared rampant among pro cyclists, however only the most seasoned riders are able to avoid suspicion by controlling the boost in strength eating a packet of spinach can bring a rider.

“Some say he popped a LEG (leafy edible green) packet back among the team cars,” continues Schokked. “The surge of vitamins and nutrients made his legs swell abnormally. I guess he’s more of a climber, but when he went by me, he made (Eric) Heiden look like (Alberto) Contador. They were circus-freak massive.”

WADA is frustrated in their efforts to catch leafers.

“There are no effective tests for leafing,” bemoans WADA president, Dick Pound. “In the absence of the ability to directly detect spinach, we look for external signs. Sudden and often violent performance bursts are key indicators. Freakish swelling of leg muscle tissue is usually a dead giveaway. Add to that an unhealthy attraction to abnormally skinny, homely, and whiny women and you’ve probably got yourself a case of leafing.”

Other tell-tale behaviors can betray a potential leafer.

“Sometimes a leafing rider goes into a mysterious, euphoric state and can only utter ‘Ack-yuk-yuk-yuk-yuk’ repeatedly. Strangely, we’ve often found a corn cob pipe in the possession of riders suspected of leafing, but we’ve yet to determine its purpose.”

The shroud of mystery around the rider doesn’t stop at leafing, Pound continues.

“We believe he was also gussing (loading up on asparagus before a race) to benefit from the combined effects of the two incredibly healthy, vitamin-rich vegetables,” Pound suspects. “But again, gussing is something we’re unable to test for. No-one will go near their urine sample.

“Man, does their pee stink.”

Sleep-Deprived Feed Zone Worker Hands Rider Musette of Biohazard Waste

Yort Fergnid, a third-year pro with Klerd Throopmor (Danish manufacturer of industrial insulation spackle) was finding this running of the Werg Plloopfrap challenging enough – before being accidentally served a musette filled with spent growth hormone vials, blood bags, and syringes. “It’s only my fourth race with the squad, and they’re already trying to kill me.”

Fergnid describes the scenario.

“I went through the feedzone and instinctively grabbed the first bag handed to me by someone wearing our trademark pea-green and chartreuse jerseys. Though to me they’re really more of a drab olive and lavender. With just the slightest hint of eggplant. But I digress.

“When I went to grab an energy bar, I was stabbed by about fifteen needles. There are a lot of unusual things about our team, but that’s just messed up.”

An absent-minded soigneur was soon implicated.

“I thought immediately that that glassy-eyed stoner probably had something to do with it. That guy is completely spaced out half the time. I mean, he once tried to apply ten Newton-meters of torque to my stem bolts rather than nine. Unbelievable! I’m also forever reminding him that I need a hypoallergenic pillow, and prefer a lemongrass hair conditioner. Sheesh.”

Tristan Warner, a soigneur for the squad blames a lack of sleep. “From washing down bikes, doing laundry, confirming reservations, rider room assignments, mapping the route to the next day’s stage, etcetera, I’m working on, like, 14 minutes of sleep since Saturday.

“Everyone on the team thinks I’m stoned, but in reality, I’m just loopy from not sleeping. But what I wouldn’t give for a joint right now.”

Warner explains the mix up.

“I was supposed to have dumped it outside the hotel where some other teams were staying, but somehow, in the rush to get everything together this morning, it wound up with the feedzone musettes. I think I must’ve dumped the team’s mail instead. Oops.

“The authorities didn’t believe that the medicine was for my sick iguana, Quincy. He’s got some weird glandular thing that makes him look like a horny toad with leprosy. No-one will take care of him while I’m gone, so I’ve got to bring him with me. It’s really unfortunate that he’s been prescribed transfusions and EPO. It’s all really just a big mix up, but WADA has no sense of humor. I swear, their own mothers don't love them.”

The UCI levies their initial findings.

“Even if it was all for his goddam lizard, how the spent medicine ended up with the feed bags indicates a staggering lack of rider safety controls,” proclaims UCI spokesperson, Klaus Molle. “I had an iguana once too and am sympathetic to Mr. Warner. The bond between man and reptile is very special. But that's no excuse… I miss my scaly little guy. Godspeed, Mr. Pickles!”

Though no riders were immediately named, the incident likely spells the suspension of the team’s license until the investigation is complete.

The squad has been under intensifying scrutiny ever since the Ronde von Frondenfloom spring classic during which its star rider, Lars Pluf, was disqualified for taking a fistful of Flintstone chewable fruit-flavored vitamins from his team car.

Although Pluf claimed to have a Therapeutic Use Exemption permitting the vitamins, observing race commissaire, Rolf Tressier, was quick to point out sub-clause c.3d.F.34534 of section 8U.3.e.X9t.k of the UCI regulations which clearly forbids riders from ingesting “any crunchy children’s vitamin even remotely shaped like cartoon cavemen.”

With the team now embroiled in Iguanagate, Tressier explains that “the incident could extend to the broader peloton. We also found in Mr. Warner’s possession a list of what he claims to be his iguana’s pet names.

“No way we’re not falling for that one again!”