Opinion: Up next: The dog ate his drug test

We want to believe Floyd Landis.

We want to believe his miraculous performance in Stage 17 of the 2006 Tour de France had nothing to do with chemicals.

We want to believe all those goofy excuses he offered last summer after he tested positive for steroid use. He gulped too much whiskey. His body naturally produced an absurdly high level of testosterone. His thyroid medication skewed the tests.

We want to believe, so we’re vulnerable to his imaginative public relations campaign to clear his name. We don’t want to see him stripped of his Tour victory. We don’t want this fairy tale to turn false.

Here’s the problem. Test after test, using meticulous scientific methods, reveal synthetic testosterone in his system. Test after test point to him as a man who cheated his way to cycling’s ultimate victory.

After each test result, Landis and his handlers start shouting, with the loudest shouting coming this week after a French lab again determined Landis had cheated.

Crank up the volume, Floyd.

Landis suggests his tests were doctored, which amounts to, in his words, “criminal negligence.”

His attorney, Maurice Suh, goes even further, traveling to the outer limits of logic. Those who seek to strip Landis of his title, Suh said, have sunk to “McCarthyism.”

Those are strong words. In the early 1950s, Sen. Joe McCarthy reck- lessly — and often inaccurately — accused hundreds of Americans of Communist sympathies. His name will forever define a savage, sad time in our history.

Diligent, aggressive pursuit of sports cheaters has nothing to do with the cynicism that motivated McCarthy. The crusade to rid the sports world of pharmaceutical freaks is fueled by the best brand of idealism.

Frank Shorter, who won the 1972 marathon gold medal, is the founding chairman of the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency. He laughed Tuesday afternoon when he considered the charge of “McCarthyism.”

“Being called a dirty name, obviously it affects you,” Shorter said from his home in Boulder.

But it doesn’t deter him, or others, who seek to cleanse sports.

“The point of going through all of this is to create such a deterrent that we don’t catch anyone because no one will go there,” Shorter said. “That’s the goal.”

Amen to that goal.

Sure, there are contradictions in this pursuit. This cleansing is messy. It’s painful to admit that towering home runs, tiny sprint times and amazing cycling feats were counterfeit.

And it appears virtually impossible for athletes to admit their guilt. Nearly all the track athletes and baseball players associated with the BALCO scandal initially proclaimed their innocence before eventually slinking into the shadows with their guilt.

After cyclist Tyler Hamilton was busted for blood-doping, he employed the “vanishing twin” defense. He said his twin, who died in his mother’s womb, had left traces of blood in his system. This novel defense failed. He recently finished a two-year suspension.

USADA attorney Travis Tygart isn’t ruffled by Landis’ verbal tactics.

“We’re used to this,” Tygart said Tuesday. “The strategy is always to attack vehemently the people who are doing their job. We don’t mind. We just follow the evidence.”

In the end, the Landis saga will be all about the evidence.

Landis will have his day. His appeal is scheduled for May 14 in Malibu, Calif. He’ll face a three-person arbitration panel. He’ll be blessed with the opportunity to prove his innocence.

For some reason, Landis believes running radio ads and embarking on a national tour will help his cause.

He’s wrong, of course. The best PR campaign is useless if the facts aren’t on his side.

Columnist David Ramsey can be reached at 476-4895 or david.ramsey@gazette.com