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Tyler Hamilton may have quit cycling but he now has a potentially lucrative career on the US 'well-being' lecture circuit.

By seemingly making himself the victim of his most recent foray into the murky realms of doping, and shifting the focus from his ostensible cheating to his on-going fight against depression, Hamilton (pictured) has paved the way for a life outside two-wheeled sport as an ambassador for the oft-underestimated illness.

With depression striking around 17 million American adults each year - more than cancer, AIDS or coronary heart disease - Hamilton could be an ideal poster boy for an illness that affects around 15 per cent of the US population at one point during their lives.

And if anyone has the credentials for being prone to depression, surely it is he.

Once Hamilton manages to successfully forge a career highlighting the pitfalls of depression, BS wonders what the odds are of another American and former team-mate of Hamilton following suit.

With 250,000 hip replacements performed each year in the US, and things at OUCH not exactly going swimmingly, surely Floyd Landis must be rubbing his hands in glee about his future prospects: he's but a sniff of a Vicks inhaler away from setting up Hop On, Hip Off.

The same cannot be said for the three-times American Tour champ Greg Lemond. With hunting accidents at an all-time low in the States, Lemond will have to think about another worthy cause to follow in between taking loaded pot shots at Landis and Lance Armstrong.

That said, Lemond already fronts the board of an organisation helping men who were sexually abused as children, drawing on a painful episode in his own past.

The possibilities for retired cyclists reinventing themselves are endless: Jan Ullrich as a dietary consultant, Cadel Evans as a film-set runner (up), Tony Rominger as an actor (he did a pretty good job convincing journalists each year of his Tour credentials), Michael Rasmussen as a travel agent (stalling over Mexico or the Italian Dolomites? Why not go to both - simultaneously), Tom Boonen as a dealer. . . in donkeys.

Can you think of anymore?

IMPRESSIVE DEPRESSIVE: Back in 2005, Hamilton's former team-mate Lance Armstrong retired from the sport at the top of his game to concentrate on promoting the global awareness of cancer. His return to the peloton, three-and-a-half years on at the age of 35, was said to be as much about Armstrong's desire to be competitive and back on the bike as it was to continue this fight against cancer.

For Hamilton, there will be no coming back. At 38 years old and facing anything from an eight-year ban to a life-long sentence, the former Rock Racing rider will have to prepare himself for life out of the saddle.

Depression, of course, is a rather depressing subject. The cynics will target Hamilton and say his "coming out" is but a veil for his latest flouting of the regulations, but that would be easy pickings - even for someone as crass as Blazin' Saddles.

Hamilton has history with clinical depression, having been diagnosed with the illness back in 2003. It runs in his family, genetically; along with an estimated four per cent of people with chronic depression, Hamilton's own grandmother committed suicide years back.

Throw into the psychological mixing bowl Hamilton's involvement in a sport where temptation and doping is rife, and where hitting peaks and troughs is part and parcel of the game, it's hardly surprising he's depressed.

Living a lie cannot be easy - and so many men of Hamilton's generation in the peloton have had to do just that. Look at the once-great Marco Pantani - his demise and sad death is an example of the destructive power of both doping and depression.

Hamilton had an uncanny knack of riding through the pain barrier throughout his career, finishing second in the 2002 Giro with a fractured shoulder and taking fourth (plus winning a magnificent solo stage) a year later in the Tour while nursing a cracked collarbone.

Hamilton then served a two-year suspension for blood doping in 2004, clouding the Olympic time-trial title he won that year in Athens and leading to a much-publicised appeal in which his implausibly ridiculous excuse of a "vanishing twin" emerged. (BS could make a joke about Hamilton's split personality here, but will not, out of respect.)

Having signed for Tinkoff Systems in 2006, Hamilton was released after being implicated in the infamous Operacion Puerto scandal.

Puerto's affect on Hamilton cannot be underestimated, especially given his love for his golden retriever Tugboat, who died of cancer months before Doctor Fuentes' exposure. Given that riders such as Ivan Basso were identified by the names of their pets (in the Italian's case, Brillo the dog), it was a cruel irony to see Hamilton involved in such an illicit ring.

Evidence pointing at Hamilton was traced through faxes sent to his then wife, whom Hamilton divorced amicably in 2008 after nine years' marriage.

So, beneath the layers of lies, deceit, pain, loss, breakdown and regret, we also have a man with personal problems weighing down his shoulders. Hamilton's mother's recent fight against cancer has hit the rider hard, while it would be unlikely to presume the whole doping issue played no significant part in his divorce, especially given the way his wife was drawn into the whole charade.

Yes, Hamilton's actions may have been the root of many of his own problems, but that doesn't take anything away from how he may be feeling now.

In spite of all his shortcomings, BS is sure that Hamilton is just a nice guy crying out for help. Even Hamilton admitted he took the anti-depressant containing the banned steroid DHEA knowingly.

He was aware of the high likelihood of getting caught out, which after his shady past would amount to more than just professional suicide. But as he said, it was "an act of desperation".

BS would like to remember Hamilton for his heroics. For his gesture of American solidarity on winning a September 11 time trial in the Vuelta. For his determination to ride even when physically broken and in chronic pain.

For teaching his beloved dog to balance vegetables on his nose, flick them up and catch them in his mouth. For his sentimental action of wearing Tugboat's dog tag round his neck while racing in remembrance of the one animal who probably valued his love the most.

A flawed human being, maybe. But who isn't?

QUOTES OF THE WEEK: "With this error, if it is true, he (Hamilton) has to pay the cost. I think that if he is positive again then maybe it is better he starts to search for another type of job," Rudy Pevenage tells Cyclingnews. Talk about the kettle calling the pot black.

"He has had a cloud over his career for a while now and the sport is better off without him." Pat McQuaid of the UCI clearly has no time for compassion after learning of Hamilton's fate.

HATS OFF: To Russian veteran Sergei Ivanov who won the Amstel Gold at the 12th attempt, aged 34. Ivanov's rocketing victory sees the new Katusha project finally, ahem, take off.

Felix Lowe / Eurosport