I'm thinking he should have gone more Richard III than MLK
"Now is the winter of my discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of USADA
And all the EPO that lour'd upon our house
In the deep vein of the arm buried
Once our brows bound with fake victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our early warnings changed to testimony,
Our mountain strikes to guilty whimper.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd my wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded cycles
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
I caper meekly on a rusted Trek
To the lascivious pleasing of the net.
But I, was once shaped for sportive tricks
And free to court an amorous looking-glass;
Now, I am rudely stamp'd, and lack love's majesty
Would strut before a wanton ambling Hein;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of victory by dissenting teams,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my reflection in the mirror
And descant on mine own depravity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a non-doper,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By Ferrari's prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Hein and Kimmage
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Tygart be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Hein closely be mew'd up,
About a prophecy, which says that 'K'
Of Ireland's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my empty soul: here
The end soon comes..."