In this July 25, 2010, file photo, cyclist Lance Armstrong stands on the podium after the 20th and last stage of the Tour de France cycling race in Paris, France.
It's not so much that the Lance Armstrong story was too good to be true. Now, it might just be too good to let go.
Even after investigators unveiled a scathing report portraying him as an unrepentant drug cheat, Armstrong continues to confound his public with rivaling images: a rapacious, win-at-all-costs athlete or a hero who came back from cancer.
We've all heard his story: An up-and-coming cyclist gets stricken with testicular cancer at age 25. He's given less than a 50 percent chance of surviving. Instead, he fights it off and comes back stronger. He wins the Tour de France seven times. Hobnobs with presidents. Dates a rock star and pretty much becomes one himself. Uses his fame and success to raise millions to promote cancer awareness.
Even if it all really is the impossible fairy tale it sounds like — one built on a brittle mountain of drugs, deception and arm-twisting — it's the narrative the world has happily listened to for nearly 15 years.
More than 1,000 pages of finely detailed evidence from the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency are now in the open, supporting its decision to ban Armstrong for life from cycling and order his titles stripped for using performance-enhancing drugs. Yet, while other sports stars who have faced drug-induced downfalls — Marion Jones, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens — fade from memory or become objects of scorn, Armstrong keeps rolling along.
You can see it in social media. Sure, negative comments dot the landscape — people have put an "X" through the "v" on their Livestrong wristbands to make it read "Lie strong". But the tributes also keep coming: a few dozen new posts on a Facebook page titled "Lance Armstrong Supporters," either vilify USADA or tell Armstrong they've got his back.
You can see it from the sponsors — Nike is one example — that are sticking with Armstrong. You can see it in the donations to the Lance Armstrong Foundation, which have spiked since August, when Armstrong announced he wouldn't fight the doping charges.
And it also shows in the way Armstrong steadfastly goes about his business. On Friday, he linked to his Twitter account a shiny new slide show touting the top 15 things his foundation has accomplished since it was founded, 15 years ago this month. Star-studded anniversary celebrations are in the works.
"His whole story kind of falls into the category of, sometimes good people do bad things, or, conversely, sometimes bad people do good things," said Stan Teitelbaum, author of "Athletes Who Indulge Their Dark Side." "In a way, it's the 'Whatever Syndrome.' There used to be a strong sense of indignation at things like this. How could my hero be this way? But when we the people, we the public, get disillusioned so many times, we shrug our shoulders and we just say, 'Whatever.' "