Daniel Friebe, Procycling European Editor and Cyclingnews correspondent My feeling is that this case (and more generally article 296 of the UCI’s regulations) sets an extremely dangerous precedent. The UCI couldn’t show conclusively that Contador had deliberately taken clenbuterol? OK, does that mean the same now applies when a rider tests positive for EPO? Does the testing or judging authority now have to produce a blood-spattered syringe as well as the electropherogram that used to suffice? 
Or am I missing something here? Because if I’m not, the days of parched Tour de France riders declining the water-bottles handed to them by spectators on Alpine and Pyreneen climbs could be a thing of the past; whereas once a contaminated drink was those riders’ greatest fear, now it could be the perfect, fictitious alibi for a positive test. 
If Spain wanted to reverse its image as a kind of doping Eldorado, it could frankly have done without its prime minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero pleading Contador’s innocence. Did Contador not have a handsomely paid Italian lawyer to do that for him? Also, on that topic, if Contador really didn’t derive any benefit from the minute quantities of clenbuterol in his system, has he at least now profitted from the kind of financial doping Arsène Wenger has maligned for years in football? 
In other words, is the only real difference between Contador and someone like the American Tom Zirbel, banned for two years after accidentally ingesting the hormone DHEA, the money they were able to invest in their defence? Going forward, those are perhaps the wider issues raised by this sorry saga: having established that a performance has come with the aid of illegal drugs or methods, how can governing bodies ensure that what occurs next isn’t also financially and politically enhanced?