It’s been a long time since I got myself invested in any sort of sports news, and I dunno why I’m feeling this Peter Bol doping fuck up, but man, I’m feeling it.
That guy is owed an apology, an explanation and a whole heap of money, I reckon. He had to spend fifty grand of his own foldable stuff on hiring lawyers to clear his name after the risibly-named ‘Sport Integrity Australia’ effed up his drug test for EPO.
Long story short, they mistook his high levels of naturally occurring EPO for high levels of naughty synthetic EPO, which, on my reading of this story, is not that easy to do. Unless you're a lazy, incompetent lackwit who couldn’t be fucked doing their job properly.
Bol seems very zen and forgiving about it all. But I’m not.
Maybe it’s because Sister Angela blamed me for a discarded pie wrapper in primary school and hit me with the school bell to teach me a lesson.
I’ve never let go of that.
And maybe Peter Bol is a better man for letting go of his.
Those types don’t apologize. You’re just supposed to consider yourself lucky that they granted you their demented form of mercy. The idea of what’s considered lucky has changed quite a bit
Those types don’t apologize. You’re just supposed to consider yourself lucky that they granted you their demented form of mercy. The idea of what’s considered lucky has changed quite a bit