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Former Armstrong teammate McCarty was shunned for not doping

He could have been the second coming of Lance Armstrong, if only he played dirty.

Despite possessing an almost identical pedigree and similar talent to the once-beloved Texas trailblazer in Armstrong—Patrick McCarty steered his bicycle straight; avoiding the doping culture that was rampant in pro cycling, and was outcast from the cycling world he had dreamed of making his name in.

From the outset, McCarty was sized-up as somebody who was principled and unwilling to play the role a performance-enhancing protégé who sacrificed his integrity to get on the fast track to cycling stardom.

“I think it was pretty clear I wasn’t going to be part in that culture,” he told The Post. “I was definitely kept at arm’s length.”

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McCarty refused to dope like former teammate and fellow Texan Lance Armstong.

McCarty refused to dope like former teammate and fellow Texan Lance Armstong. (AP)

At 19, McCarty was outpacing pros and then in 2004 when he turned 21, and the dream call came.

The promising rider was indoctrinated into Armstrong’s almost mythical U.S. Postal Service squad.

“It was a huge, huge, huge opportunity coming from the amateur ranks at the time in cycling and [Team] Postal was regarded as the biggest and best professional outfits. And it was an American team.”

Instantly, uncanny comparisons were being made.

Like Lance Armstrong, McCarty entered the pro ranks from small-town Texas roots.

McCarty grew up in Allen, Texas—only six miles from the now sullied cyclist’s native Plano.

“Lance was from Texas and I was from Texas… It was very, very special.”

Both launched their bike careers at the Richardson Bike Mart. McCarty’s first bike was a special edition Trek with a yellow frame bearing Armstrong’s signature.

But there was one parallel that McCarty made sure wouldn’t be made, doping.

“The parallels were obvious but the more time went on it was very easy to disassociate myself because that was clearly not the path I was going to take.”

Despite his unwillingness to use performance-enhancing shortcuts, McCarty doesn’t believe he’s special, adding there were others on Armstrong’s teams who also didn’t dope.

“During that era not everybody was cheating and there were guys that made the right decisions,” McCarty told The Post. “The circumstances vary but the decision is always the same.”

Much has been made about Armstrong’s fall from grace.

Armstrong saluted some riders who kept clean as “heroes” in his sit-down with Oprah Winfrey earlier this month.

Unlike the soaring success of Armstrong and other steroid-abusing cyclists, those who steered clear of PEDS remained no-shows on winner’s podiums and McCarty admits his career took a hit.

“I never doped and I really never got any results because of it.”

But the racer doesn’t harbor hard feelings about missing out on the medals or becoming a household name.

“I don’t dwell on the fact that maybe other guys were ruining my chances to do well,” he said. “It was I’m happy I made the right decision.”

And despite his failure to notch the accolades that other cyclists received, McCarty explains that he won by never letting himself succumb to the dark side and take drugs.

“I was always looking ahead and disassociated myself of the actions and behaviors of some of the riders,” McCarty said. “I didn’t relate to [doping] and I didn’t participate in it.”

The juiced thoroughbreds on the team during his two-year tenure, namely Armstrong, ostracized McCarty and anyone else who didn’t get intimate with a needle.

“I was out of the clique and on the outer edge of the circle not only just being friends or acquaintances with the other members of the team—but just the professional side of it.”

His friend and former National Team member Ian Dille suggests McCarty’s moral code hurt his chances to be groomed into something spectacular.

“Postal got a lot of positive press for signing young riders, and saying ‘We’re going to develop them into the next Tour de France stars,’” Dille told The Post.

“But in reality I think Postal had their guys, and the team knew they could count on them not to talk, and that they were willing to draw blood from their body and re-infuse it during the Tour.”

McCarty was eventually cut from the U.S. Postal Team after his contract expired and forced back into the amateur ranks, a crippling blow to the ego of the promising young cyclist.

“I saw him take a huge hit,” McCarty’s former coach and Armstrong teenage pal Max Miley told The Post. “The fact is he fell back down the ranks because he couldn’t be able to compete at that level against the guys who were taking drugs.”

The demotion is like a major league baseball player being dumped back to the minors.

“I was pulled into this dream come true and it fell apart quickly,” McCarty said.

And because of the sport’s sordid adoption of science, many of the successful riders were managing to stick around, excelling long past their prime.

That meant hot prospects were cast aside and left to “sink or swim.”

“There was absolutely no grooming,” McCarty said. “I was out of the clique and on the outer edge of the circle.”

On his way to becoming a world-class athlete, Miley said he spoke openly to McCarty about doping’s road to oblivion.

“Doesn’t matter what you are confronted with—don’t take drugs,” Miley remembers telling the then teenage phenom. “I told him even if you don’t get caught you’re going to have to live with yourself knowing you cheated.”

Ultimately, his coach knew that McCarty was not like that other storied rider from Texas.

“He didn’t have the personality to dope,” Miley said. “He’s not going to be somebody like Lance.”

Nine years after his stint with Armstong and Team USPS, McCarty is still chasing a dream to become the best.

Though only 31 —usually the twilight of a cyclists career—McCarty believes he could one day claim major victories if the sport continues to clean up.

“That’s one of the main motivating factors for me staying in the sport for so long,” he said. “I was optimistic about things changing and I knew I was good enough and talented enough I could have my day.”

His coach believes given an even playing field, McCarty will outpace the juicers, just as he did in 2009 when he captured the Tour of California crown.

“It’s a major accomplishment for someone who is clean,” Miley said. “There was probably a few riders in the Tour of California who weren’t clean.”

McCarty is staying humble and says he’s just “grateful to be racing his bike” and is invigorated by recent, successful efforts to rid the sport of doping, including holding Armstrong accountable.

“I’ve noticed a difference from my first years as a professional to now,” he said, noting that he’s noticed racers who had pedaled over 200 kilometers in steep peaks “attacking and springing” almost by magic.

But no longer.

“You kind of watch the suffering when it’s a clean race,” he said. “It’s not that it’s less dramatic but you can see the elements affect the riders differently, if not more.”