Thursday 2 July 2015

Farah from the madding crowd

By continuing to employ the under-investigation athletics coach Alberto Salazar, Mo Farah has opened himself to obvious accusations. The Olympic champion's loyalty to the American, currently being accused by the BBC and 19 other witnesses of doping successive professional sportsmen under his guidance, can only be explained by the blind naivety of a loyal colleague or, more worryingly, that Farah himself is benefiting from performance enhancing drugs.

Although the thirty-two year old declared this week that he would dispense with Salazar's services if any of the allegations were proved true, it is hard to see how much more evidence the popular distance runner needs shoved under his nose to be persuaded of guilt. Whatever happens from this point onwards, the Briton has already damaged his reputation by not severing ties with his coach as soon as the drugs claims became public.

It is no surprise, following equivocal rhetoric and carefully-worded denials, that suspicions surrounding Farah's remarkable improvement in results since joining with Salazar in 2011 continue to grow. The press pack trusts its nose above all else when it smells smoke and Farah suddenly pongs of a smouldering inferno.

2012's national hero vehemently denies having ever taken drugs, yet other elements of his most recent interview with the press mirror the responses of Lance Armstrong in his pomp. Deserving the "benefit of the doubt" is not a valid defence in the face of criminal accusations and nor is saying "I have taken 103 tests since the 2012 summer Olympics. And every one of them has been negative. So I can't win."

Sensible anti-doping agencies still recognise that banned substances such as EPO cannot be detected by random sampling. Therefore Mo's claim is false and misleading, meant to merely serve devoted fans already searching for ways to excuse the athlete, rather than anyone with the slightest knowledge of doping culture. Everyone within sport knows how easy it is to avoid strict testing nevermind the more blatant methods he used to somehow avoid two appointments prior to his London gold medal triumphs. So why make such a point if not to misdirect the ignorance of the public masses and, perhaps more crucially, concerned sponsors? 

It was this exact attitude that a certain man of notoriety perfected during seven years at the head of the Tour de France peloton, disdainfully swatting away any criticism with the assertion that he was the most tested athlete on the planet. The disgraced cyclist never failed a drugs test in his career despite being a frequent user of victory-inducing viles and syringes.

The obvious conclusion from such systematic abuse is that the tests are almost worthless. A truly successful doper, with the help of an expert coach in disguising chemical ingredients to training, is never clumsy enough to be caught by them.

Journalists have every right to point the finger at Farah if he continues to walk an uncertain line in the glare of a full-scale investigation. For now the key question remains why Mo, who claims to race 100% clean, is willing to place his faith in a man under fire from countless former colleagues, athletes and authorities. Re-enacting 12 Angry Men in front of the television cameras is all well and good but it does little to heal a conscientious observer's faith in modern sport.