Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater.  It was so easy to chant that as a child, when the only thing at stake was a game of hide and seek or freeze tag.

But, those words are ringing ever so true right now to Lance Armstrong.  The only way you could have missed this story is if you are living with your head stuck in the sand.

Here's the deal.  Amazing cyclist, Lance Armstrong, "winner" of seven Tour De France titles, survivor of testicular cancer, CEO of Livestrong, a charity dedicated to eradicating cancer, is said to be a cheater.

After a huge investigation, the United States Anti-Doping Agency released a report outlining an extensive doping ring headed up by Armstrong himself.  The report detailed blood transfusions, the use of testosterone and cortisone tablets and pressure to go along with the scam.

It isn't difficult to pass judgment on Armstrong.  I mean, it’s said he did more than merely open his eyes while his playmates were hiding.  According to the report, he orchestrated a huge- massive, even- doping scandal and cover up.  He supposedly threatened his teammates.  He bullied competitors.  He brought his then-wife on board, pressuring her to not only help him cheat, but also to keep quiet about it.

There are tons of discussions floating around.  Plenty of assumptions being made.  But the question still remains.  Why?

Why did Armstrong, who was arguably the best his sport had ever seen, feel the need to falsify his accomplishments?  Why was his best not good enough?  Why did he seek out illegal substances, just to win a competition?  Was beating cancer not enough of a victory?

I can't pretend to know what his motivations were.  I can't pretend to understand what exactly pushed him to cheat.  But I can say that this is becoming more common than not.  From sports teams to pageant contestants, to students vying for a scholarship, cheating is becoming a normal practice. In fact, it is almost like we expect it.

And, to me, the saddest part isn't that he actually cheated.  It isn't even that his name has been erased from the record books.  It's that another star has fallen.  Not that I expect celebrities and athletes to be perfect, but our children do.  It isn't what the athletes are losing. It's what our children are losing.

And it is a dangerous place to reside.  Gone are the days that we expect homeruns to be hit by muscles. Instead, we talk of performance enhancers.  We can no longer simply accept a talented athlete as just that.  We suspect that they are cheating.  How many times has the abilities of Michael Phelps been in question? Several, actually. 

And our children see that their best isn't good enough.  Armstrong may not have been able to win all seven of those titles, but he certainly would have made a name for himself without doping. Now, his name doesn't bring thoughts of victory and charity.  But rather, dishonesty.  

I'm not saying he's a bad person.  I'm not negating the millions of dollars he has raised for cancer research.  But what I am saying is that this hurts more than just his record. It is not ok to cheat.  It is not ok to lie about it. And it is not ok for our children to grow to expect this to be normal.

Our children admire celebrities. Our culture places them high on a pedestal.  I’m not making excuses for Armstrong, or any other athlete that has resulted to doping.  But we’ve placed them so high, they can’t humanly reach it.  And rather than let their supporters down, rather than disappointing their followers, they do all that they can to maintain that façade.  But eventually, the steps they have built to reach the height we have placed them on starts to shake.  And inevitably, it will come crashing down, taking the admiration of many with it.

Doping or not, it is nearly impossible to win the Tour de France seven times.  That may not be found in the record books any more.  But overcoming testicular cancer that spreads to the lungs and brains? That is something for the record books. That deserves to be shouted from the rooftops.  And maybe that’s what our children should see us celebrating.  Life.