On the eve of his greatest triumph, an interview cast a shadow over the celebrations. Shortly before Tadej Pogačar won his fifth Tour de France, his team manager, Mauro Gianetti, spoke to *L’Équipe* about the doping scandals that had shaped his own career as a rider and team manager. Gianetti, now team manager at UAE Team Emirates-XRG, led Team Saunier Duval from 2004 to 2008. Three of his riders – Leonardo Piepoli, Riccardo Riccò and Juan José Cobo – were implicated in doping scandals whilst at the team, and following Riccò’s positive EPO test, the team withdrew from the Tour in 2008. Today, Gianetti says he should have communicated more clearly at the time and explained that he had been a victim.
Sacrifice. The word describes quite accurately how the cycling world deals with its past in relation to doping. Responsibility is redefined, and coming to terms with the past is replaced by storytelling. And the people who were part of the system back then are often part of it again today, just a few rungs higher up.
The old names in new roles
Gianetti is by no means an isolated case. Joxean Matxín, the second key figure in the UAE management team, was also part of the Saunier Duval leadership at the time. Neither of them was sanctioned, and both deny any knowledge of the matter. Nevertheless, the most successful team of the present day is led by two men who experienced one of the major scandals of the noughties at first hand.
Alexander Vinokourov remains general manager at XDS-Astana – the man who was banned for two years in 2007 following a blood transfusion during the Tour. It has long since become a family business: as well as the father, the team also employs both his sons.
The situation becomes particularly sensitive when it comes to young riders. The ProTeam Polti VisitMalta is led by Ivan Basso and Alberto and Fran Contador. Basso was banned as part of Operación Puerto, whilst Contador lost his 2010 Tour de France victory and his 2011 Giro d’Italia title following his clenbuterol case. The team’s sponsorship explicitly covers not only the professionals but also the U23 and junior teams. Young riders here are therefore learning the sport from men whose own careers have been marred by doping proceedings.
One can concede that each of them has changed. They have served their punishments, at least within the sporting system. But that is not the point. The point is that we have a system in which experience from the darkest period in the history of the sport is still regarded as a qualification rather than a liability.
Doping history catches up with young athletes
The extent of this legacy was recently illustrated by a case that should, in fact, have been nothing but a success story. The Spaniard Benjamín Noval won the junior time trial and road race in Montréal, and subsequently also the European Championship time trial. Shortly afterwards, El País reported that the then 15-year-old had taken part in a performance test at Navacerrada in April 2024, under the supervision of José “Pepe” Martí. Martí was a coach with Lance Armstrong’s US Postal Service team and has been serving a 15-year ban since 2012. The Spanish Anti-Doping Agency (CELAD) initially proposed an 18-month ban for the teenager, but then decided against pursuing proceedings due to his age and lack of knowledge. TOUR reported on this shortly after the World Championship races.
It is hard to blame the teenager. However, the case illustrates how the network operates: the connection was via his father, a former professional cyclist with US Postal and Discovery Channel, who was never sanctioned himself. Contacts from the doping era are not severed, but passed on – if anything, to the next generation. This only came to light because the Guardia Civil were monitoring Martí anyway.
Why cycling just won’t let her go
There are several reasons for this, and they are interlinked. The first is simply down to personnel. The cycling world recruits its sporting directors, coaches and managers almost exclusively from among former professionals. Anyone who is between 45 and 60 years old today raced in the 1990s and 2000s – a time when doping was widespread in the peloton. If anyone who was involved in doping at the time were to be excluded, the team buses would be left pretty much empty. This is a convenient excuse. But it is not entirely wrong.
The second reason is the regulatory framework. The World Anti-Doping Code punishes breaches with temporary suspensions. After that, you are once again part of the system. There is no real suitability test for team managers, and anyone who has never been suspended is, formally speaking, considered to have a clean record regardless of how many scandals have taken place under their responsibility. Even the ban on working with suspended support staff only applies if someone looks closely.
The third reason is money. Success sells, and the teams with leaders who have a history of doping are either successful on the pitch or, at the very least, well-connected. Sponsors, organisers and associations have little incentive to ask awkward questions as long as the results are good and no positive test taints their record.
The fourth, and perhaps most important, reason is the culture. Cycling has never undergone a genuine process of coming to terms with its past. Whilst the 2015 report by the independent CIRC reform commission described the mechanisms of the doping era in detail, it had virtually no consequences in terms of personnel. Instead of confessions, we still hear victims’ accounts to this day. Anyone who criticises this publicly, such as Jérôme Chiotti, one of the first to break the silence, quickly finds themselves standing alone. And so the omertà survives, albeit in a more modern form.
What needs to change regarding the history of doping
If cycling is serious about projecting a clean image – and, above all, about having a genuinely clean system – simply referring to the Biological Passport and the ITA’s testing figures is not enough. Testing catches individual riders. It does not catch the systems themselves.
Firstly, an independent suitability assessment for team managers would be necessary: anyone leading a WorldTour or ProTeam must disclose their past and undergo an assessment that is not controlled by the teams themselves. Secondly, there needs to be consistent enforcement of the ban on contact with suspended individuals, with obligations for federations and youth teams to provide information, and with consequences for adults who facilitate such contact. Thirdly, prevention must begin at junior and U23 level, and must also involve parents, coaches and support staff. It is precisely there that the weak spot often lies.
And finally, sport needs to do what it has been avoiding for decades: engage honestly with its own history. Those in positions of responsibility today should speak openly about their role in the past, rather than hiding behind phrases such as ‘a different era’ or claiming the status of a victim.
A generational shift that isn’t really one
Cycling is currently enjoying a golden age. Young riders are winning earlier than ever before, their performances are spectacular, and interest is high. That is precisely why the shadows of the past loom so large. Every record, every dominant victory is viewed against the backdrop of a past that has never really been put to rest. And as long as the people from that past continue to shape the present, nothing will change.
The drivers have long since changed. The structures have not. The old system will not disappear of its own accord. It must be replaced.
Leon Weidner
Editor