Cycle of Lies: The Fall of Lance Armstrong

“A week later, that little prick came to my house with his friends to actually get the car back,” recalls Hoyt, a Vietnam veteran who earned a Silver Star in combat. “I rolled up my sleeves and said go ahead, just try to get it back from me.” Hoyt reported back to Eder: “Your boy screwed me again.”

It was another ten years before Hoyt spoke to Armstrong again.

By Lance’s senior year of high school, Terry Armstrong was gone. Linda Armstrong had tracked down a mistress. (Terry told me there were so many he didn’t remember this one’s name.) When Terry came home from work one day he found his wife and the other woman sitting together on a couch.

“Who are you?” he asked the mistress.

Terry Armstrong lost both his wife and his son. In the divorce decree, Linda Armstrong was awarded her husband’s Cadillac as well as all the money and retirement accounts in his name. The house was to be sold, with the proceeds divided equally. But Terry Armstrong insisted that his wife and son live there until Lance graduated high school. According to divorce records, he also assumed all the family’s debt, including monthly payments on his wife’s 1986 Buick Skylark and $8,265.78 on credit cards.

Scott Eder said Terry Armstrong would often call and ask about Lance. Many days, Eder saw Terry hiding behind bushes to watch his son train in an outdoor pool. Lance saw him once and told Eder to deliver a warning: If Terry Armstrong keeps stalking him, he’ll kick the crap out of him.

Lance viewed life as increasingly unfair. His senior year, he felt that all of Plano East High School was out to get him. The school wouldn’t let him graduate with his class because he had too many absences: days he took off for triathlons and for training in his specialty, cycling, at the United States Olympic Training Center. He was preparing for the cycling junior world road championships in Moscow, where he amazed everyone by leading the race so forcefully that some of the sport’s top names still remember how his amazing performance caused them goose bumps. (He exhausted himself way too fast, though, and finished back in the pack.)

He and his mother didn’t think he should have to follow a state law that mandated a minimum number of days a student had to attend class. Lance was “that guy with the mom who was always making a stink about him getting out of school,” according to one of his classmates. His mother argued that he should graduate, but school officials wouldn’t budge.

That led them to Bending Oaks in Dallas, a nontraditional school with about a dozen students per class. As a private school, it didn’t have to follow public school rules and wouldn’t have the same problem with Armstrong’s absences that his last school had. He’d be able to graduate on time, so long as his tuition was paid. And Terry Armstrong, the man whom Armstrong’s mother would call an absentee father, was the one who wrote the check.

In his airy three-bedroom ranch straight out of a Pottery Barn catalog, Terry Armstrong lays a box on the kitchen table. He pulls out card after card, photo after photo. A Father’s Day card: “I didn’t get to pick my dad, but I’m glad my mom picked you.” Inside, in a child’s writing: “Love, Lance.” A photo shows Lance driving Terry’s father’s golf cart. There’s a photo of Lance at the organ in a church where his grandfather preached.

Terry Armstrong shows off a smiling Lance on his grandparents’ couch, and then another with a smiling Linda in the same spot on the same couch. The photos have writing on the back: Christmas 1983. Lance was twelve, a few years from becoming a triathlon star. Though he had lost touch with his son soon after Lance’s cycling career took off, Terry followed him in the newspapers and on television. On his office wall, he kept photos that showed the evolution of Lance from boy to man. The most recent shot is of Lance and Lance’s children that Terry had printed from the Internet and framed. He said Lance’s achievements thrilled him and that his son’s troubles caused him heartache, though not nearly as bad as in 1996, when Lance was diagnosed with cancer, and Terry was not allowed to enter his son’s hospital room in Indianapolis.

After Lance won his first Tour de France, Terry Armstrong was astounded to hear Linda’s claims about their years as a family. He wondered, “Linda was a single mom? Her first two marriages were quick ones? Lance and his mom always had their backs against the wall?” He was sensitive about mistakenly being called Lance’s stepfather, not adoptive father, by news outlets, including CNN.

Terry tried to fight back by writing those outlets to say that they had the story wrong. He sent copies of his marriage certificate and divorce decree, showing that he had been married to Armstrong’s mother for fourteen years. He wanted to set the record straight, but a lawyer discouraged him because Terry “didn’t have the ink,” meaning Lance had the power of the press. Reporters, especially in the United States, were in love with the Lance Armstrong story. Then came Lance’s autobiography, It’s Not About the Bike, which cast Terry as a terrible father, and then Linda’s book piled on. Terry called the stories “a constant battery of mistruths.”

He had planned to confront his ex-wife at one of her book readings in 2005. He said he waited until the last minute before walking down the center aisle to take a seat in the front row.

Tami, Terry’s new wife, who had never met Linda, sat apart from her husband so she could ask, “Did you or did you not raise Lance yourself?” Linda said, well, you just need to read the book.

Terry Armstrong said he held his hand up that day, waving it like a kid trying to get the teacher’s attention. But the author ignored him. Only after the reading, as Linda sat at an autograph table, did the former partners in marriage come face-to-face.

“I really enjoyed the book,” Terry told her.

“Really?” Linda said.

“Yes,” he said. “I love fantasy.”

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