“The races I can win as a sprinter, I’ve won” – Tim Merlier hints at shift in goals with Milano-Sanremo, Gent Wevelgem and Paris-Roubaix in his sights

For much of the past decade, Tim Merlier has been defined by one thing above all else: speed. Relentless, repeatable, world-class speed that delivered 16 victories in a single season and cemented his status as one of the peloton’s most feared finishers.

But behind that success, a quieter reassessment has been taking shape. Not dissatisfaction, but perspective. Merlier is no longer chasing proof of what kind of sprinter he is. Instead, he is starting to ask what else might still be possible. “The races I can win as a sprinter, I’ve won,” he said in conversation with Sporza. The statement is not resignation. It is recalibration.

If Merlier’s season was judged purely on numbers, the story would be simple. Sixteen victories speak loudly enough on their own. Yet the result that continues to linger most clearly in his mind is not one of those wins, but a second place in Gent Wevelgem, now officially named In Flanders Fields. From Middelkerke to Wevelgem.

The context matters. He arrived there carrying the aftermath of a heavy crash at Brugge-De Panne, stitched up and unsure whether starting was even realistic. He was not racing on instinct or dominance, but on grit. “I wasn’t really in the race, but I kept biting down and managed to win the sprint for second place. That position felt like a victory.”

It is a revealing admission. For a rider accustomed to measuring success in clean finishes and raised arms, that moment represented something different. Endurance. Belief. And the sense that certain races offer a reward beyond the result sheet. “Gent Wevelgem is an underrated race,” Merlier said. “A lot of riders think it’s a sprinters race, but it opens up early and never really settles down again.”

Merlier is realistic about what it would take to win Gent-Wevelgem outright. He does not dress it up as inevitability or destiny. “I need a sprint from a small group and miracle legs. And then I still need to be in the right position.”

That realism extends to how he views the spring monuments more broadly. Milano-Sanremo, for example, remains a race he openly acknowledges sits beyond the practical limits of a pure sprinter in the modern peloton. He has no interest in gambling with extreme training adaptations that could blunt his biggest weapon. “I still believe in the principle that I want to remain a pure sprinter,” he said. “With the current peloton, Milano-Sanremo is impossible.”

Yet Paris-Roubaix is different. Brutal, unpredictable, shaped as much by positioning and survival as by raw power. It is a race that has never quite aligned for him, but one that continues to occupy space in his thinking. “In Paris-Roubaix it has never fallen into place to ride for a result, but in my head it’s time to make that happen.”

Not to win, he is careful to stress. To contend. To leave with something tangible from a race that increasingly feels unfinished.

Merlier’s career arc matters here. He arrived late to the road, built his reputation patiently, and only began stacking elite wins once his foundations were fully set. That late-bloom arc has shaped how he approaches the latter stages of his career. “I won’t take big steps anymore, but baby steps are still possible,” he said. “I hope I can still become better as a sprinter. I work on that every year.”

Those baby steps are not about reinventing himself. They are about longevity. About keeping his sprint sharp while allowing room for the occasional deviation in ambition, whether that is Gent Wevelgem or a deeper run into Paris-Roubaix.

It is also about appreciation. Being nominated again for the Velo d’Or, even without attending the ceremony, forced a moment of reflection. “You do realise that you’ve achieved something in your career,” Merlier said. “Sometimes you need to stand still and reflect on what you’ve done. But you also realise it could all be over just like that. So you should enjoy it more.”

Under contract until 2028, Merlier has already allowed himself to look slightly further. “I’d like to stay a pro until 2030,” he said. “That would be a nice age to stop.”

There is no sense of urgency in his words. No last-chance narrative. If anything, there is calm. He still feels competitive. He still feels curious. And crucially, he still believes his sprint has not dulled.

Whether that future includes a perfect spring classic, a long-awaited Paris-Roubaix result, or simply more days doing what he already does better than almost anyone else, Merlier seems content with the balance he has found.

He has proven who he is as a sprinter. Now, quietly, he is exploring what else might still fit.