There is no disputing that the rare sports memorabilia industry is a lucrative one. Casually perusing the internet for one-of-a-kind sporting relics, I came across such items as an autographed England World Cup-winning squad photo from 1966 going for £3,000; a $2,000 Muhammad Ali vs George Foreman "Rumble in the Jungle" promotional poster from 1974; and a baseball bat signed by New York Yankees legend Babe Ruth, recently sold for an astronomical $216,000.
Such items are quite clearly rare and valuable, and are, therefore, treated as such by the businessmen around the world who make a full-time living out of dealing in these costly collectables. Just like oil, gold or electronics, sports memorabilia must be considered as a internationally-tradable commodity, bound by a tight entrepreneurial code of ethics.
Try telling that to the morons who last week attempted to rock the world of cycling by stealing Tour de France hero Lance Armstrong’s racing bike from his team’s truck in Sacramento before stage one of the Tour of California.
Far be it from my intention to advocate the theft of anything, let alone a massively expensive one-off piece of state-of-the-art sporting equipment, but if you are going to steal something, for God’s sake give it some thought before you turn up with your crowbars and ski-masks and bundle it into the back of a raggedy white van.
Forgive me, but I intend to use the next few paragraphs to suggest what these complete and utter losers could have done in order to successfully execute a pathetic act of armchair robbery, not because I support the little twerps in any way, but in order to illustrate just how stupid they actually are. So here it is; criminality 101 courtesy of yours truly:
My first piece of advice to this pathetic ring of wannabe outlaws is this: Don’t target celebrities renowned for their micro-blogging propensities. This might sound stupid, but it has proved to be a perfectly legitimate concern. Within minutes of Armstrong’s bike having been nicked, tens of thousands of “twitterers” were alerted to the heist due to the fact that the seven-time Tour de France champion updates his Twitter account virtually every minute.
Moments after the crime was committed, Armstrong posted the following message: "Whoa!! They just came to my room and said our truck was broken into and someone stole my time trial bike! Wtf?!!?” at which point 112,000 members of the “twitterati” began spreading the word across all four corners of the world. It wasn’t long before every major global news network cottoned on either; hardly a masterstroke in subtlety on the part of the douchebag criminals responsible.
My next point is a seemingly obvious one, but apparently not obvious enough: Don’t steal something that is guaranteed to be of absolutely no use to you whatsoever. This particular bike was quite literally the only one of its kind on the face of the planet; it couldn’t be ridden around the block, shipped out of the country or sold because virtually every member of the Sacramento community was on the lookout for it. What these idiots ever planned on doing with what became, in a matter of hours, the world’s most recognisable thing on two wheels remains a mystery.
Lesson number three: Even if you are a thieving little scumbag, you don’t steal from one of the most respectable human beings alive; a guy who beat testicular cancer then smashed the world record for victories in one of the most gruelling physical contests on earth. I mean have some respect for God’s sake; it’s like stealing Steven Hawking's wheelchair – you just don’t do that sort of thing.
Having said that, history has proved that it is possible to get away with stealing famous peoples’ bicycles; you just have to choose your target carefully. Rather than robbing one of the world’s most esteemed sports personalities, choose a humourless, widely-loathed politician like David Cameron, who became the laughing stock of West London when his wheels of steel were swiped as he nipped into a supermarket on Portobello Road.
Moreover, the thieves in this instance, who were presumably a tad less moronic than those who robbed Armstrong , were able to benefit greatly from the fact that virtually not a single passer by actually recognised the Conservative Leader, leaving him all but stranded and in need of a taxi number. On the other hand, I’d imagine that in the midst of a major national cycling competition, most people would be fairly keen to help out the most respected champion their sport of preference had ever known.
For those concerned who are not yet aware, the bike was returned to its rightful owner last Wednesday, suggesting one of two things: either those concerned have cottoned on to how utterly fruitless their attempt at a high-profile robbery were destined to be, or they are in fact so monumentally incompetent that they have failed to grasp the most fundamental objective of burglary, viz. the general aim of holding on to what it is you’ve stolen.
Whatever the case, it is unlikely that this ridiculous escapade will deter Armstrong from hopping back on his bike and cruising into contention for yet another Tour de France win, having announced his intention to come out of retirement and compete in the race this year. The only thing that remains to be stolen is the show.