They stand across from each other, staring their opponent dead in the eyes. Each knows what the other wants to do. They both think they can outsmart the other man. It’s the fiercest battle in sports, and the participants don’t need to shoot a jump shot…
They stand across from each other, staring their opponent dead in the eyes. Each knows what the other wants to do. They both think they can outsmart the other man. It’s the fiercest battle in sports, and the participants don’t need to shoot a jump shot, lift a weight or throw a single punch.
Athletes are only on the periphery, the flesh and bones canvas for chemical artists in a high stakes game of chicken between dopers and doctors. It’s a contest that rages before every Olympic games and every regulated boxing or mixed martial arts bout.
Quinton Jackson let slip in Fighters Only magazine that he was the latest fighter using testosterone replacement therapy (TRT) a medical procedure designed for men with low testosterone to get back to normal levels. It’s often associated in professional athletics with former steroid users whose bodies have stopped producing testosterone naturally after years of receiving extra amounts in tablet, cream or injection form:
I went to see the doctor and he told me to talk to an age-management doctor. So I went and talked to them and they tested me and said my testosterone was low; they prescribed me testosterone, to bring my testosterone levels back up to levels where I can be like… so that I am the same as young people, like when I was 25…I started hitting it up pretty good, I still gotta take care of my knee but I feel like a 25 year old again. My sex life changed, I was back to five times a night like when I was 25, straight up. I got stronger, lifting weights. I was never good at lifting weights but I was doing everything, pull ups and stuff, everything with my top half.
Athletes like Jackson want to gain an edge, any edge over their opponent. This, of course, isn’t anything new. In the ancient Olympics, competitors used opium, special diets and supplements to take home a laurel wreath. In the gladiator pits, those about to fight to the death popped hallucinogens and stimulants to give themselves the best odds of victory.
And performance-enhancing drugs didn’t require death to be on the line. The French used to mix cocaine into their wine to help stimulate their cyclists. Across the generations and across continents, performance enhancement is the name of the game.
Today, we know a lot more about the potential risks of some of these behaviors. That hasn’t changed the desire to get one up on your opponent, only the method.
According to The Economist, the first drug test failure in Olympic history came in 1968. By 1976, 11 athletes were nabbed by scientists who were finally able to detect minute traces of steroids in an athlete’s urine. Four years later, amazingly, not a single athlete was caught using steroids. The battle was on.
On the ground in 2012, the drug police are pretty good about catching athletes who use chemicals to enhance their training or bodies. Using natural ingredients found in the human body is the new frontier. Blood transfusions to boost red blood cell counts, injections of designer viruses to increase muscle growth and other futuristic treatments we haven’t even heard of yet are the new battle ground.
It’s been going on for thousands of years. It will continue until we are all replaced in the ring, cage and playing field by our new robot overlords. It’s a never ending, losing battle for the UFC and other regulators. It makes sense to prevent the most dangerous drugs, to eliminate things with the potential for long-term harm. But you will never stop an athlete from trying to achieve human perfection.