The king of nothing.
Dead teammate with a massive head injury, fellow teammates with financial ruin and medical disasters from doping, divorce, partially abandoned kids, abandoned girlfriends with broken hearts, pimped out Trek bicycles, a win at all costs director, and now a nothing-to-lose snitch with all the inside dirt to put lord pedal a bike and sell a miracle and the beer to go with it and a failing business sponsor into a shame spiral. The millions of dollars and thousands of die hard fans and fantasy of cheating death is now settling into the twilight of all sports careers. Physiology and aging come to all human flesh. Human glory is fleeting. Any person is not God: physical discipline and performance enhancing whatever only lasts for a season and then fades. All this money and business will ebb from Armstrong's grasp, which is a drug that loses its potency. His legacy is like any other human: his time has come and is now going. Watching him bolt from his interview and his dismissal of his more powerful and enjoyable and younger and fresher rivals has sealed his fate, just as it does with all men. Only wisdom and humility can replace the vigor of youth. Only love is as strong as death. I hope he finds it as a replacement for selfish ambition.