And that is precisely what
Pogacar represents. We are likely watching the second-best cyclist in history by palmarès and impact, only behind Eddy Merckx. He delivers historic performances time and again, and his sporting stature belongs to another plane.
But sport does not live on greatness alone
It also lives on emotion. We follow sport because we want to sit in front of the TV, go to a stadium, or stand on a roadside without knowing who will win. Uncertainty is part of the spectacle. When greatness and emotion coincide, we get the best version of sport.
And that is precisely the problem current cycling presents.
This generation is extraordinary. There are Pogacar,
Jonas Vingegaard, young talents like Seixas, and riders like Juan Ayuso. So much quality has rarely been gathered in one era. Yet the feeling the competition leaves is different because, today, uncertainty is very limited. That is where the debate begins. Can knowing the winner in advance become boring?
It is not exclusive to Pogačar. We saw it at the last Giro d’Italia with Vingegaard and Visma. The team controlled the race whenever it wanted. If it decided to shut down a break, the fugitives’ quality did not matter. It happened. If it wanted to set up a win for its leader, it simply did it. We are seeing exactly the same sensation at the start of this Tour de France with UAE Team Emirates.
In the opening stages everything unfolded exactly as the team intended. When there was a finish that suited Pogacar, the race played to their interests. When they decided Del Toro could win, Del Toro won. When they felt keeping the yellow jersey did not suit them, they simply let the break go and ceded the lead.
In just three road stages, the race has felt as if it unfolded exactly as UAE wanted. That takes me back to a stage at last year’s Tour de Suisse.
Pogačar jumped almost unintentionally after an intermediate sprint. He opened a small gap, saw no one react, and rode solo to the line to win by a huge margin.
Tadej Pogacar is the best cyclist in the world
Three takeaways emerge from that stage
The first is the most common: Pogacar makes history again and shows, once more, that he is above the rest. The second is to criticise the peloton for failing to react, for letting the best rider in the world go without organising an effective chase.
But I think there is a third line of thought that links both. When a rider reaches such superiority, the rest also race intelligently.
In professional sport, victory is not the only outcome. There are podiums, top placings, prize money, UCI points, and overall classifications. If you know you have very little chance of beating the best rider in the world, it may not make sense to risk your entire race chasing him only to lose anyway.
It is a logical decision. And that very logic, in certain circumstances, reduces the spectacle. That is why I completely understand those who say Tadej Pogačar is boring.
Not because he does anything wrong. But because, in many races, the ending seems written before the competition starts.
We know he’s probably going to win. We also know he’ll often do it with a long-range attack. In some races we can even guess roughly where he’ll launch it. At Strade Bianche it feels inevitable. In Flanders it’s similar. At the Tour it depends on the route, but you can usually sense the decisive moment.
And when you know the script in advance, the thrill fades. That said, I fully understand the opposite view. Anyone who enjoys witnessing greatness is likely living through a once-in-a-generation era. We’re watching a rider make history, race after race. That also carries huge sporting value.
That’s why I don’t think this debate has an absolute answer. There is no universal truth. It simply depends on what each fan looks for when they turn on the TV.
If they want suspense, it’s logical that certain races feel less engaging when the winner seems decided from the start. If they want to watch one of the greatest athletes of all time, they’re probably enjoying a golden age for cycling.
Perhaps the Tourmalet will mark a turning point in this Tour de France. If Pogacar shows crushing superiority and opens a major gap to Vingegaard in the first big mountain stage, many fans will lose some of that uncertainty that makes sport an unpredictable spectacle.
Does Pogacar make cycling boring?
But the opposite could happen too. Vingegaard could hold firm, the gap could be minimal, or he could even beat the Slovenian. If that happens, the Tour will regain the drama so many fans crave.
In the end, that’s the real takeaway. There’s no need to turn this debate into a war between those who admire Pogacar and those who say they’re bored by his dominance.
Both positions can comfortably coexist. Those who revel in greatness have every reason to do so. And those who need uncertainty to feel excitement also have every right to feel that certain races have lost some of their appeal. They are, quite simply, two different ways of living sport.