If ever a cyclist was suited to the intensity of the modern, made-for-TV format of the Tour, it is Tadej Pogacar
Fourth Tour wins are, I once wrote, “more for the record books than the heart … the penultimate step to cycling greatness, [they] often do little to warm the soul at the time”. The past three weeks suggests that nothing has changed. It’s far from the four stages of grief, but you could argue that a first Tour victory is met with surprise and delight, a second admiration, the third respect, the fourth resignation.
As Tadej Pogacar’s fourth Tour win approached with the inevitability of a steamroller this week the chief cycling writer at l’Equipe, Alex Roos, grumbled about the Slovene’s lack of joie de vivre. “For the last few days, his sulks, his grumbles, his bad mood have blurred and eaten away at the ambience of the end of this Tour, because how can you get enthusiastic if the Yellow Jersey himself gives the impression of being bored and going through something painful …?”
Pogacar’s fourth Tour win was inevitable – with the usual “barring this or that” proviso – from the moment 19 days ago when the first time check during the time trial around Caen gave him an unbridgeable advantage over Jonas Vingegaard. Similarly, the fourth wins for Bernard Hinault, Miguel Induráin, Lance Armstrong and Chris Froome were all telegraphed by the end of week one: nonetheless admirable as athletic achievements – Armstrong’s excepted – but zero suspense. Hence the feeling of resignation.
