Back in the early '80's Channel 4 was fresh and ground-breaking - no really it was. It may actually have paid its part in Britain's recent excellence at competitive cycling, for it was this new Channel which introduced the wider public in this country to the Tour de France.
There was 30 minutes coverage of the tour shown in a prime time early evening slot (the one now occupied by Hollyoaks).
I remember watching staggered at the feats of these cyclists, riding up mountains without seemingly pausing for breath, and the enthusiasm of the crowds.
Riders from the British Isles began to be competitive, with the eccentric Scot Robert (where is he now) Millar winning the King of the Mountains and the Irishman Sean Kelly winning the impressive sounding, if largely incomprehensible, points competition for the Green Jersey. Stephen Roche even won the tour in 1987.
Over the years my enthusiasm waned as it became more and more obvious that the prodigious feats of many of these seemingly super-human riders were actually frauds. The Tour de France became a competition between chemists, with clean riders the exception to the rule.
Obviously the most super-human feat of all was achieved by Lance Armstrong, recovering from stage 3 testicular cancer to win seven consecutive Tours. He was feted across the world in the highest places, and raised $millions for his cancer charity.
We now know he was fraud and it all seems so obvious. How could a man who prior to his cancer was a goodish professional cyclist, but not a particularly great climber, come back after gruelling treatment and be far and away the best rider the world had ever seen?
Using his cancer story as a shield, he fooled a gullible public and a compliant media for many years.
It took one brave man, the Sunday Times journalist David Walsh, to expose Armstrong as a cheat. Although it was 'only' sport, Walsh's reporting has to be up there with Woodward and Bernstein.
Walsh's book Seven Deadly Sins has been made into a recently released film, The Program.
As with all movies this one struggles to capture the sporting scenes all that convincingly, although in fairness it is better than Escape to Victory! The story though is fascinating, and as a piece of film drama it works well.
For me it highlights how brave Walsh was, not so much in taking on the cycling establishment, but also in standing out amongst his press colleagues. Many of them were happy to continue cheerleading for a sport they must have known was basically bent, in return for access to the stars and being able to report the Tour for their papers and TV stations from the inside.
Walsh was ostracised not just by the cycling community (which he probably expected) but also by the rest of the media for challenging his own profession.
The film left me wanting to know more about Armstrong's closest team colleague, Floyd Landis. He was also American, but came from a strict Pennsylvania Calvinist background where riding a bike for pleasure or sport was considered a sin. Landis was so talented that he went on to win the Tour the year after Armstrong retired, but immediately tested positive for banned drugs. Landis reminded me of Hansie Cronje, the cricketer with a similar religious heritage, who ended up taking money for match-fixing.
If you are interested in sport the film is well worth seeing - and it serves as a timely reminder of the need for a free press and what a public service sceptical, cynical grumpy old journalists can perform.
Oh and there is a enjoyable cameo by Dustin Hoffman.
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