"We have to stop this debate. For me, this is over" - Lance Armstrong calls Tadej Pogacar 'the greatest of all time, by far' after Tour of Flanders victory

Yesterday we witnessed a historic exhibition from Tadej Pogacar at the Tour des Flandres, as he joined the exclusive club with three wins at the Belgian Monument. The Slovenian once again rode away from Mathieu van der Poel, who could not live with him on the brutal ramps of the Oude Kwaremont and Paterberg, and had to settle for second in a race where Remco Evenepoel and Wout van Aert were also key actors.

Lance Armstrong, George Hincapie, Johan Bruyneel and Spencer Martin provided their feedback of the race on The Move podcast, tackling a race that was dominantly won by Tadej Pogacar using the same tactics as in 2025, with a sequence of attacks on the cobbled climbs that ultimately saw all of his rivals get dropped.

Armstrong struck the most categorical tone. His analysis leaves no room for ambiguity or open-ended comparisons: “We have to stop this debate. For me, this is over. This guy is that good. He’s the greatest of all time, by far.” It is not just a hot take after a win, but a conclusion that, in his view, rests on repeating patterns. Pogacar not only wins, he does so in completely different scenarios, always imposing a sense of control.

That perception grows more forceful when Armstrong describes what he believes is happening inside the peloton: “You can see it in the other riders… they know. They know how this goes. The only factor that could change anything would be a crash or bad luck, and even that might not stop him.” The idea of inevitability is not only media-driven or external. It is, in his analysis, part of the group’s competitive psychology. Rivals are not only racing Pogacar, but also the expectation that, sooner or later, he will prevail.

In the same vein, Armstrong reduces the problem to near absolutes: “It’s almost impossible to beat him.” Far from rhetoric, that claim was reinforced by how the race unfolded in Flanders, where tactical moves failed to disrupt the expected script.

From a more structural angle, Bruyneel adds a key nuance: Pogacar’s dominance is not confined to a single specialty. “The fact that he can win and dominate practically any race… he doesn’t race much, but when he does, he races to win. And he almost always wins.” This versatility, combined with selective scheduling, boosts his strike rate and amplifies the sense of superiority.

The race itself reinforced that idea. Bruyneel highlighted a telling detail: “The fact that the top five came in one by one is a clear indication of how brutally hard the race was. It’s pure elimination.” It was not decided by a single tactical flourish, but by extreme attrition where, progressively, only the strongest survived. Among them, Pogacar once again made the difference.

Not every analysis focused solely on individual superiority, though. Hincapie introduced a critical point about the bunch’s collective behaviour: “They just kept rotating and holding the gap… they made the race hard, which basically means racing for Pogacar.”

His view points to a paradox. By hardening the race without an alternative plan, the rivals ended up playing into the hands of the strongest rider. This also applied to the final hour of racing where Remco Evenepoel and Mathieu van der Poel both collaborated with the World Champion despite knowing this could bite back later on.

From there, he proposed an option he felt was underused: “Why not send other riders up the road and stop pulling in that group? That forces Pogacar to chase.” The idea suggests a more aggressive, less predictable approach, shifting responsibility for the race onto the favourite.

Even so, Bruyneel brought in a dose of reality that limits such plans: “Most of those riders were already at their limit just to be there. To attack you needed the legs, and many were just hanging on.” In other words, tactical theory collides with physiology. In a race as demanding as the Tour of Flanders, there is not always the physical margin to execute ideal strategies".

The debate, therefore, is not only tactical but cultural. Hincapie explained it from the mindset of the professional rider: “It’s not in their DNA not to work. When they’re in front, they work. They want a fair race and they’re all very confident.” That reveals an internal peloton logic that makes strategic cooperation against a clear dominator difficult. Even when they race each other, riders follow certain codes that shape their decisions".

Bruyneel broadened the point with a reflection on modern cycling: “These days tactics are overrated… each team sticks to its plan and there’s no cooperation to go against one rider.” In this context, strategic fragmentation benefits figures like Pogacar, who do not need alliances to impose their will.

The end result is a landscape where, as Bruyneel admits, the ambitions of the rest adjust to a different reality: “From a certain point, everyone tries to consolidate their position and get the best possible result… you have to think about being in the best spot for second in case something happens to Pogacar.” That line sums up a profound shift in competitive logic. When winning seems out of reach, the goal becomes to maximize the outcome within that limit.