Tadej Pogacar: admiration or weariness?

There's something irresistible about Tadej Pogacar. Barely 27 years old, and already a track record that defies imagination: Tours de France, Giro d'Italia, monumental classics, world championships... nothing can resist him. Just yesterday in Kigali, he offered a new demonstration: an attack launched more than 100 kilometers from the finish, a race wrapped up before the flame even reached the red, and a solo victory that left the competition powerless. And we were left wanting more.

By Jeff Tatard – Photos: to thetagram.com/uae_team_emirates, to thetagram.com/wahoofitnessofficial

We could leave it at that, and just admire. Because yes, there is a grace in Pogacar. A way of attacking far from the finish, of racing as if fear did not exist. He does not economize, he does not calculate—he plays, he has fun, he destroys. He is a total champion, without equal in modern cycling. Comparing with Merckx is not an abuse Pogacar operates in an era of global competition, scientific methods, and over-equipped teams. And yet, he thrives.

So, should we say that he is already bigger than the "Cannibal"? The question is worth asking.

But there : This greatness comes at a price. And this prize is suspense. Yesterday in Kigali, doubt disappeared as soon as he attacked, far too early for drama to exist. The opponents ran to limit the damage, the spectators resigned themselves to waiting for the podium. The drama of sport is based on uncertainty, on this vertigo of everything can happen. Pogacar, by dominating to this extent, deprives us of it. It's beautiful, but it's flat. Magmagnificent, but predictable.

So, what do we really feel in front of him? A strange mixture: pure admiration and slight weariness, even suspicion.We applaud the feat, but we regret the absence of tremors. Pogacar gives us everything—the power, the audacity, the generosity of the effort—except that one thrill: doubt. Or at least for some observers, it's his dominance that inspires doubt, and no longer the glorious uncertainty of sport. Beyond the cynicism of the commentary, isn't Tadej Pogacar at risk of turning the public away from professional cycling races?

Perhaps this is unfair. After all, The champion does not have to limit himself to spare our emotionsAnd perhaps in ten years, we will look back on these seasons as a golden age, telling ourselves that we were lucky enough to see one of the greatest riders of all time ride live. But for now, Pogacar's dominance presents us with an intimate contradiction: We dream of an invincible hero, and when he appears, we end up regretting the unpredictable.

This is, without doubt, the mark of the very great: they never leave us indifferent.

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