The Oprah confessional is a touchstone of American culture — Lance Armstrong’s natural choice for his final, reluctant admission that he is a liar.
It was also calculated by a supremely calculating man — a media event worthy of his huge personal brand and an easier ride than sworn testimony in front of doping investigators.
Yet if the disgraced superstar thought he was going to get off easy, with Oprah feeling his pain, he calculated wrong. She was well prepared and persistent.
Armstrong may have thought an interview this big would draw a line under the past. In fact his clipped replies “Yes” to her yes-or-no queries on whether he took drugs in all seven of his Tour de France wins raise more questions than they answer. The cycling world will gasp over throwaway lines such as his assertion that he still views his Italian trainer Dr Michele Ferrari, now banned for doping, as “a good man”.
Just as serious is the difficulty, watching Armstrong’s chiselled features and laser-like gaze, of discerning any real remorse.
He talked about being a serial, controlling bully but it just did not seem to hold any emotional baggage for him. Indeed, at times he almost seemed to be talking about another person.
He hounded masseuse Emma O’Reilly vindictively over her true accusations. Winfrey asked incredulously: “You’re suing people and you know that they’re telling the truth — what is that?
“It’s a major flaw and a guy who expected to get what he wanted and control every outcome.”
Armstrong was famed for his ruthlessness and focus. Those traits now look even less pleasant as he admits to having lived a lie.
