Mike Rowbottom

I was talking to someone at a New York radio station this week on the broad subject of cheating in sport, and specifically “mechanical doping” in cycling, which was confirmed for the first time in competition earlier this year and resulted last month in the six-year suspension of a Belgian cyclo-cross rider.

Femke Van Der Driessche was found to have been riding a bike with a concealed motor in it in the women’s under-23 race at the World Championships held in her native country. She failed to finish because of “mechanical problems” and electrical cables were seen hanging from her bike during a pit-stop inspection.

Van Der Driessche’s initial response was to deny that the bike was her own, saying it belonged to a friend and had been mistakenly given to her by team officials, and adding that she had been “totally unaware” that the frame was fitted with hidden batteries powerful enough to turn the pedals on their own once activated by a Bluetooth device on the handlebars.

Shortly before her disciplinary hearing, the young cyclist announced she would not be there to defend herself, and announced her immediate retirement from the sport.  At the age of 19.

I was asked to describe the mindset of athletes who might decide to cheat in this way. Tricky.

Femke Van Der Driessche's bike at the Cyclo Cross World Championships was found to contain a secret motor ©Getty Images
Femke Van Der Driessche's bike at the Cyclo Cross World Championships was found to contain a secret motor ©Getty Images

On the face of it, concealing a motor in a bike sounds like the kind of lowdown trick the children’s cartoon anti-hero Dick Dastardly might try during the Wacky Races. What next, you wonder? Outboard motors on rowing shells? Or maybe sprinters being observed in the mixed zone with electrical cables hanging out of their legs…

There were two grimly comic elements involved in this case. Van Der Driessche was riding for “Kleur op Maat – Nodrugs Cycling Team”. (Well, that much was presumably true.) And her illegal bike was detected by a tablet (fitted with an electromagnetic device).

It seems wrong that this traumatised teenager should have taken the whole brunt of this punishment – the first in the sport, despite rumours of similar cheating, even in Grand Tour events, circulating for more than five years. What have been the repercussions for those responsible for getting her to the startline? Are we to understand that this was simply a solo initiative by either Van Der Driessche or, conceivably, her friend?

The only good news about all this is the fact that cycling’s world governing body, the UCI, had discovered the abuse by conducting tests on 100 bikes at the Championships, and has already carried out 2500 such tests so far this year with a technology which, if it has not yet proved perfect, has certainly been effective.

Would that there was a similarly effective device which could be operated to detect the presence of doping offenders in world sport – and the extent of the responsibility for their cheating.

Cycling's world governing body UCI has been using tablets to check bikes for hidden motors ©Getty Images
Cycling's world governing body UCI has been using tablets to check bikes for hidden motors ©Getty Images

Debate is now heated over whether Russian track and field athletes, or maybe all prospective Russian Olympians, should be barred from the Rio Olympics because of the extent of doping infractions in their country.

Allegations that there was a state-run cover up of doping offences at the Sochi 2014 Winter Games will now be the subject of a report by the World Anti-Doping Agency, with the International Olympic Committee President Thomas Bach warning that entire international sports federations could be banned if the charges are found to be valid.

Meanwhile the United States  Justice Department has announced it is opening an investigation into the allegations of Russian state-sponsored doping, drawing a swift and predictable response from the Kremlin, whose spokesman commented:

"We treat with a certain scepticism and a certain degree of incomprehension and aversion the cases of extra-territorial application of the jurisdiction of U.S. courts which have become pretty widespread lately.”

Russia’s Sports Minister Vitaly Mutko echoed those sentiments soon afterwards. “We are puzzled that U.S. justice decided to probe Russia,” he told the Russian news agency TASS.

“There are enough violations of anti-doping rules around the world and they can all be probed. We would like to see the United States probing its own national team. The atmosphere there is far from being cloudless.”

Russia's Sports MInister Vitaly Mutko has, predictably enough, dismissed the idea that the US Justice Department should have jurisdiction over the question of Russian doping offences ©Getty Images
Russia's Sports MInister Vitaly Mutko has, predictably enough, dismissed the idea that the US Justice Department should have jurisdiction over the question of Russian doping offences ©Getty Images

This is a familiar, ritual dance between the United States and Russia. And while clouds are being mentioned, there is perhaps a silver lining to the latest rhetorical exchange for Budapest, Rome and Paris - the rivals to Los Angeles’ bid for the 2024 Olympics.  

This latest US initiative plays strongly to the perception that the country regards itself as the “world’s policeman” – a concept that is unlikely to go down well with the majority of those IOC members whose precious votes the LA bidders have already begun to canvass.

As that perceptive US observer of sports politics, Alan Abrahamson, has responded: “Simply put: this is likely to pose a huge challenge for the USOC, the LA24 committee and others in the sports movement.”