Lance Armstrong’s Oprah Apology Spectacular remains the lousiest sports-related apology we’ve ever covered. In its sheer length and sprawling terribleness, it is unlikely ever to be surpassed. Yay, Lance! It’s a title you have legitimately won!

And only two and a half years later, Lance has returned to the Tour de France. A mere three years after the US Anti-Doping Agency stripped him of the seven Tour titles he’d won, what with his incessant cheating and lying about it.

This year, Armstrong’s not racing; he’s riding ahead of the pack to raise money for a UK-based cancer charity.

He has, however, stopped to imply that the current leaders in the race are doping. (Within the hour, as Bleacher Report noted, he’d backpedaled. As it were.)

Most people are not delighted that Armstrong is once again associated with cycling’s most prestigious race. Brian Cookson, president of Union Cycliste Internationale, the sport’s governing body, noted that there were other ways Armstrong could raise money for charity, and told the Guardian, “Frankly, I think that’s completely inappropriate and disrespectful to the Tour, disrespectful to the current riders, and disrespectful to the UCI and the anti-doping community.” Armstrong replied, “I know you are but what am I?” (Actually, he said, “Brian Cookson needs to worry about other things,” referring to the suspicions he himself has been feeding about current leader Chris Froome using the drugs.)

Good times. But we’re here to talk apology. Back in 2013, we noted Armstrong’s shoddy treatment of Betsy Andreu, the wife of one of Armstrong’s former teammates, Frankie Andreu. Betsy had long been a critic of doping in the sport, and both Andreus testified under oath that they were in Lance’s Indianapolis hospital room in 1996 when he was fighting testicular cancer and doctors asked Armstrong if he’d ever used performance-enhancing drugs. They testified that Armstrong replied, “Steroids, testosterone, human growth hormone, EPO [erythropoietin], cortisone. You name it.” On the stand in 2005, though, Armstrong denied the story, “100%, absolutely. How could it have taken place when I’ve never taken performance-enhancing drugs? How could it have happened? How many times do I have to say it?”

Obviously he lied. But the Andreus were pilloried and ostracized by the cycling community. (Frankie Andreu admitted to doping once, over his wife’s objections, and coming clean, as Betsy Andreu said, as a lesson to their kids. “He did wrong, but he admitted to it.”) Frankie also refused to keep using EPO, despite pressure from Armstrong, the team captain. As a result, his performance suffered, he took a pay cut, and he eventually left the team. Armstrong and his supporters then worked hard to derail Frankie’s TV commentating career.

In 2013, after Armstrong finally confessed, Oprah asked whether he’d ever apologized to Betsy Andreu, whom Armstrong had reportedly called “a crazy fat bitch” and whose family’s lives were threatened. Armstrong’s response : “I called [her] crazy, I called [her] a bitch, I called [her] all these things, but I never called [her] fat.” Great!

Even then, Armstrong turned down an opportunity to apologize to her on air. Andreu stated before the interview that she wanted Armstrong to tell Oprah he’d lied about the conversation in the hospital room. But when Oprah asked “Was Betsy telling the truth about the Indiana hospital?” Armstrong replied, “I’m not going to take that on.”

Yesterday, Business Insider ran an interview with Betsy Andreu on the subject of forgiveness. The magazine asked, “Does Armstrong deserve to be forgiven?” Here’s her response:

This whole forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness thing — I don’t want his apology. In America we like to forgive, right? But I think to do this would be a horrendous mistake, if he remains a self-interested sociopath, a con man, and a manipulator who will do anything — anything and everything — to benefit himself, but also to seek revenge on people now working hard to raise the shipwreck that is cycling from the depths of the sea, one that he wrecked and pillaged.

We’re just sick of hearing the b.s. Let’s try to reform the sport. To be sorry means “I will face the consequences of my actions, even if I don’t like them.” And that’s something he refuses to do. He still thinks the rules don’t apply.

Right before Oprah, when he called me and Frankie, he said, “I don’t care when, I wanna meet with you guys. I don’t care if it’s over water, beer, coffee, tea, whatever, I wanna meet.” I said OK. So for three months I kept in touch with him, and when I went to Austin — he knew I was going there — I told him a month before I was going and even said to him, “You’re not going to skedaddle and go out of town, are you?” He said, “Absolutely not.” I said to him, “You don’t have to talk about anything that will put you in legal jeopardy. You don’t have to talk about the hospital room. I just want you to look in my eyes and I want to look in yours.” I made pictures of when his son was a toddler and my kids were a toddler and a baby, so that I could give it to him as a peace offering. That’s how stupid I was. Then he refused to meet with me.

Look, when you hurt somebody, you go to them and say, “I wanna show you how sorry I am. What do I have to do to make it right?” Instead, he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do that with me or with the LeMonds or with Bob Hammond usor with USADA [United States Anti-Doping Agency] or with the government. He doesn’t do that with the millions of people out there who are disgusted and were swindled by him and gave money to his foundation. He doesn’t do that. Instead, he does what he wants, for himself. How will this benefit him. This is not about benefiting him.

When you hurt somebody, you go to them and say, “What do I have to do to make it right?” It’s very simple. And I was hopeful, but then when I saw — and I told him — and talked about the hospital on the phone, I said, “You gotta admit that.” And he said, “I can’t because of lawyers.”

I would prefer if he just shut his mouth and go away forever so we don’t have to deal with him again. Because saying sorry is easy. Acting sorry is hard.

Go read the whole interview.

She’s mad as hell, but she’s not crazy. (I don’t care whether she’s fat or a bitch. I will mildly note that when women make people mad, they get disproportionately called fat bitches. It’s kooky.) She is entitled to her fury. She is entitled to a real apology. She is correct that apology has to be more than words (words which, we’ll note, Armstrong hasn’t actually delivered anyway). A reminder from last time: A good apology is private and public, names the sin, acknowledges its effects, shows humility and remorse, and makes reparations.

Anyone want to bet about whether she’ll ever get one?