Up In Smoke

Up in smoke

UP FRONT

David Edwards

WHOA, ANTHONY GOBERT, DUDE, WHAT the hell were you thinkin'!?! Look, bad enough you got your million-dollar gluteus drummed out of the Grand Prix circus, testing positive for marijuana after a suspicious Team Suzuki ordered you to unholster your weapon and whiz into a glass beaker. Busted by your own crew, brought down like a common Canadian snowboarder!

Banished-but still ungodly fast-you. hook up with Vance & Hines for the 1998 AMA season and are installed upon the seat of the trickest, factory lookingest Ducati Superbike this side of the Bologna comp shop. Made team mate Thomas Stevens' regulation 996 look as ordinary as an Impala.

"I've never seen a rider with as much talent as Anthony possesses," was team owner Terry Vance's justification for taking a chance on you. "He's smart, good in traffic, doesn't fall down and knows how to baby a bike if needed. He's fantastic."

Of that, there is little doubt. You win at Phoenix, Road Atlanta and Elkhart Lake, and with nine of 14 rounds run are a close second in the point standings. Well-placed, especial ly with Miguel Duhamel sidelined, to win the U.S. Superbike title-your ticket back to Europe and a sweet, big-bucks contract either in the GPs or World Superbike.

Not so fast. You sign up as a home country wildcard rider for the World Superbike races at Laguna Seca (see "International Intrigue," this issue), a chance to strut your considerable stuff in front of a global audience. More than one roadrace expert predicts you'll win. But, first, the FIM wants you tested; in fact, a resolution had been passed last fall specifically deal ing with your "doping" situation. You'd known for months that the FIM would be asking for a urine sample. You flunk, thanks to trace amounts of man juana metabolite you claim are left over from a celebratory puff taken two weeks before. Whatever. Pack your bags, mate, you're outta here. A week later, the AMA administers a similar test, with matching results. This time, you're suspended for the remainder of the season. Rumors abound of a drink ing problem, too.

Anthony loves to live on the edge. On the track (other riders) visit the edge, but Anthony has a permanent address there. That's what makes him the racer he is, but off the track it can cause problems," laments Vance.

Hey: I suppose it's tough being 23, half-boy, half-man, with a fat bank ac count and lots of downtime between races. You might argue that recre ational dope-smoking is no big deal, that cigarettes and liquor cause far more health problems-and I might even agree with you. Something like 45 percent of U.S. teenagers have sampled pot; heck, our president suc cumbed to his own supposedly sani tized form of reefer madness. And a New York Times sports report esti mates that if NBA players had to sub mit to a urinalysis like the one you took, perhaps 70 percent would not pass. Of course, the consequences for blowing a lay-up pale in comparison to botching your braking points going into Laguna Seca's Corkscrew-with another rider mere inches away.

Actually, that's unfair. Far as I know, no one's accusing you of toking dur ing a race weekend. The bigger ques tion here is one of respect. Respect for the AMA's authority. For your fellow competitors. For the sport in general. For yourself.

"Bottom line is you have to play by the rules," says Vance. "It really is dis appointing, but the situation speaks for itself: If you do drugs, you don't race."

Sad part here, Anthony, is that we were really starting to warm up to you. Americans have always liked rebelsshoot, that's how the whole freakin' country got started. As Henny Ray Abrams wrote in a Cycle News com mentary, "...he's the type of rider peo ple relate to: a beer-drinking yob who says what he thinks, then backs it up on the track. He's exceedingly po lite to the fans and will sign auto graphs until the pen runs dry, then answer every press query politely, and pose for photos until the last camera's run out of film."

Don't know if you read Cycle World, so here's what Kevin Cameron had to say about you: "Gobert is fresh air. He's cool and he's not fond of authority (any of it-society as a whole, team managers, you name it), but I'm not the only one who finds some recent U.S. riders too well-behaved. All their lives they've heard, `Ask not what your sponsor can do for you...,' so on the podium they obediently regurgitate their long lists of acknowledgements. Our eyes glaze over as the makers of gloves, brake pads and wrist-pin clips are recited. Where's the personality? Are these dashing young men in an ex citing profession, or are they corporate robots? Gobert's fiery red hair and in your-face manner are welcome addi tions. Long may it wave."

Your team owner again: "Anthony's a good guy, but there are some personal issues that need to be addressed." You can hear the concern in Vance's voice.

Sources indicate that you've checked into a rehab program, which is good. But the AMA reports that you are appealing your suspension, which is bad. My advice, for what it's worth? Get yourself straight, accept your pun ishment, make your apologies, then come back in `99 stronger than ever. Nothing better than a fallen hero mak ing the best of a second (okay, third) chance, contrite and on the comeback trail. It won't be easy, but neither are the alternatives.

I'm thinking now of another great racer. Like you a natural, like you an artist, a genius even, on two wheels. Like you he had substance-abuse prob lems. Like you he disillusioned fans, embarrassed team owners, aggravated sponsors. Like you he broke people's hearts. One night, tanked, he passed out while his house burnt down around him.

Anthony Gobert, meet Ricky Graham.