Regardless of whether Armstrong says more about that, there’s no denying that life for the Andreus changed when they refused to go along.
“Frankie’s career was definitely cut short. His career was ruined early,” Betsy Andreu said. “You have riders out there whose careers never happened” because of Armstrong.
And some whose careers were cut short.
Filippo Simeoni was a talented, young rider who dared admit to doping and told authorities he received his instructions from physician Michele Ferrari, who also advised Armstrong during his career. After that 2002 testimony, Armstrong branded Simeoni a liar. He went so far as to humiliate Simeoni at the 2004 Tour de France, when he chased down the Italian rider during a breakaway and more or less ordered him to fall back in line. Later in the race, and with a TV camera in his face, Armstrong put his finger to his lips in a “silence” gesture. After the stage, he said he was simply protecting the interests of the peloton.
Simeoni received a different message.
“When a rider like me brushed up against a cyclist of his caliber, his fame and his worth — when I clashed with the boss — all doors were closed to me,” Simeoni said. “I was humiliated, offended, and marginalized for the rest of my career. Only I know what that feels like. It’s difficult to explain.”
Anderson certainly can.
In a story he wrote for Outside Magazine last August, Anderson detailed a business relationship with Armstrong that began in 2002 with an email from Armstrong promising he would finance Anderson’s bike shop when their work together was done. Anderson, a bike mechanic working in Armstrong’s hometown of Austin, Texas, essentially became the cyclist’s personal assistant, his responsibilities growing as the years passed. One of his tasks was making advance trips to Armstrong’s apartment in Spain to prepare it for his arrival.