A branch so withered and decaying that it was in danger of being chopped off from mainstream sport, the Tour de France returns this weekend amid a renewed and heightened sense of anticipation.

Most of that is down to Lance Armstrong, a man who transcends the world of carbon-fibre frames and Lycra. Love him or hate him, celebrate his return or wish he had stayed away, his comeback to the Tour at the age of 37 will guarantee global interest at a time when the event has been doped within an inch of its life.

There is a case to be made that Armstrong's involvement for the first time since 2005 farther undermines the race's credibility given how many of us have lost faith in him, but the story will be impossible to ignore.

“One man's battle against fate, fame, love, death, scandal and a few other rivals on the road to the Tour de France,” is the subtitle to Daniel Coyle's Tour de Force, the best of the many books either by or about Armstrong. It is always a war when Armstrong is involved, and now we can add a compelling fight against old age and also his colossal ego.

The Texan is in the same Astana team as Alberto Contador, the brilliant Spaniard who won this event two years ago and is thought by many wise judges capable of exerting a dominance for many years to come.

Will Armstrong attempt to take on Contador and risk being crushed, or will he be happy to help his younger team-mate (by ten years) to victory? The idea of Armstrong dropping back to collect water bottles for Contador seems fanciful given that the two are not close and that the American may be the most competitive human ever born, but there would be an upside.

“He has the opportunity to cement his legacy, ironically, in defeat,” David Millar, competing for Garmin-Slipstream, said. “I think this year's Tour is going to do his popularity in France a world of good, because if he doesn't win then the French will love him, as long as he shows character and resilience and races with a bit of panache. It will show another side of the man that I'm sure exists.”

There will be a huge fascination with Armstrong for better and for worse, but his is a transitory story. More telling on this side of the Channel is whether the Tour will start to grow deeper, lasting roots in England, this year and beyond. Because if it cannot now, it never will.

Out in France will be Scott Sutherland, sporting director of the Sky team that will enter the race in 2010 with the aim of putting a Briton on the podium in Paris within a few years.

Sky's team will be the nearest thing on the Tour to a flag-flying, national outfit and the lack of history, and baggage, allows the Brits to come with a reputation as unsullied as is possible in the still deeply tainted world of professional road cycling.

The excitement generated by the Olympic success in Beijing has given the project such momentum that Shane Sutton, the head coach of the British cycling team, describes winning the Tour as “possibly the last great crusade left for one of the greatest all-round sporting nations on earth”.

Sutton said: “The day we see a British rider in yellow coming down the Champs Élysées will be the day we knock Manchester United and Liverpool off the back page and get the front page as well.”

Already there is a British hero to cling to in Mark Cavendish, who starts this year's Tour for Columbia-Highroad with a fantastic chance of winning the green points jersey, having won four stages in last year's tour, the first Briton to do so.

All of these gains could be destroyed with just one high-profile positive dope test, but Sky's willingness to back British Cycling shows faith not only in the individuals involved but also in the sport's ability to continue to generate popular interest.

The Grand Depart of the Tour in London two years ago brought out huge crowds. The Tour Series, which has brought cycling to ten city centres across England, has drawn healthy audiences. Perhaps the greatest challenge left is to convince White Van Man that cyclists are not a nuisance.

To ride between London and Paris over three days last week on a charity event was not just to travel between two countries but vastly different cultures when it comes to pedal power.

Racing through the villages of northern France, cars would cheerfully pull up against hedges and stop in lay-bys to allow the riders past in a way that would be unthinkable in England. We may give Chris Hoy a knighthood and a seat in the Royal Box at Wimbledon, but we remain a nation that provides woefully few bicycle lanes and then honks impatiently at the guy pedalling his way to work through wind and rain.

Such attitudes are deeply entrenched, but if it is down to role models to change them, expect British cycling to be throwing up more heroes in the next few years. The Tour may belong to the French but the Brits are ready to start claiming a stake.

Money the prime mover in Eto'o deal

Describing the proposed purchase of Samuel Eto'o as a transfer “coup” suggests that there is something fiendishly clever about how Manchester City have gone about luring the forward from Barcelona.

But here is how it worked: not long ago Eto'o rejected the idea of moving to Eastlands out of hand. Then they offered him more than £200,000 per week and he thought again.

The deal brings back memories of Fabrizio Ravanelli's move from Juventus to Middlesbrough when the Italian striker asked for £32,000 a week (an outrageous Eto'o-type demand back in 1996) confident that this small club stuck up in the North East of England would never be so desperate as to pay it. He was taken aback when they did.

Ravanelli went from winning the Champions League to losing a League Cup final against Leicester City. Should Eto'o - who also wants to pocket half the £25 million transfer fee - make a similar switch, we can only assume that he is happy with the obvious compensations.

Wayne Rooney hits the target

Complaints from English players about being used out of position generally expose their own failings rather than those of their managers. But we can make a notable exception in the case of Wayne Rooney, whose measured remarks in The Times yesterday about his desire to play centrally were spot-on in every way.

Giving Rooney a starting place one yard in from the flank has become Sir Alex Ferguson's instinctive and cautious reaction against any team he fears. While the switch was a tribute to Rooney's willingness to track back, it is also a terrible waste of a player who, for England, is reborn as a world-class schemer.

“I don't think playing on the wing I can express myself as much as I like to,” Rooney said. Some of us have been saying it for two seasons.

Oh deary, O'Leary

David O'Leary has emerged from whatever golf course he has been hiding on to remind us why no club has touched him since he was sacked by Aston Villa three years ago.

In an interview in which every other sentence appears to start with “I'm not bigging myself up but...”, O'Leary manages to take swipes at Martin O'Neill and Niall Quinn, paint himself as an equal of José Mourinho and Fabio Capello, and rule himself out of jobs at Celtic and Newcastle United as though they should be on their knees pleading with him to join.

“It won't haunt me [if I never get another job in management],” he concludes. After this disastrous attempt at a makeover, that is just as well.