In a new documentary, Lance Armstrong shows plenty of rage but little regret

ESPN’s new film on the cyclist is a compelling study in the corruption of the male athletic ego

“It’s a miracle I’m not a mass murderer,” Lance Armstrong, reflecting on his mother Linda’s laissez-faire approach to parenting, muses in the opening scenes of Lance, the new two-part ESPN documentary whose first half screens in the US on Sunday night.

In the 10 minutes that follow, the director, Marina Zenovich, assembles a tableau of reminiscences that make that shocking admission seem somehow understandable. We see Armstrong’s stepfather, Terry Armstrong, claim: “Lance would not be the champion he is today without me, because I drove him. I drove him like an animal.” (“He beat the shit out of me,” Lance recalls.) We hear Armstrong explaining how he forged his birth certificate to pass himself off as a 16-year-old and enter his first triathlon, rationalizing the deception with cool command: “Forge the certificate, compete illegally, and beat everybody.” We watch as cycling contemporary Bobby Julich recalls how, at the end of his first head-to-head race against Armstrong, when they were both still teenagers, Armstrong yelled at him: “Come on you fucking pussy, let’s keep going – I’m not done yet.”