At the heart of Guimard’s analysis between the emotional
hype surrounding young talents like Isaac Del Toro and the old school strategic
maturity shown by Yates and his team, Team Visma | Lease a Bike.
“The one who was the most sober throughout this Giro was
Yates,” Guimard noted. “He only moved twice throughout the entire Giro, he was
almost forgotten as a real opponent for the win.”
That quiet patience turned out to be Yates’s greatest
strength. As Del Toro and Richard Carapaz engaged in a tactical chess match, one
that increasingly looked like a standoff rather than a fight, Yates waited,
conserved energy, and struck precisely when it mattered most: on the Colle
delle Finestre, with
Wout van Aert waiting ahead.
Guimard doesn’t absolve Del Toro and Carapaz of
responsibility for the result. On the contrary, he sees clear strategic
failure.
Did Carapaz and del Toro throw the race away?
“When Yates went out, one, he had the legs, and behind him,
who made the effort? Carapaz or Del Toro? Logically, it’s Del Toro who has to
do it, because he’s the one with the jersey. If Del Toro holds back, it’s
because he doesn’t have the legs to go after it.”
That moment, when neither rider responded, when they
hesitated and fell into a game of chicken, was the defining collapse of the
Giro. In that hesitation, Yates did not just attack with a short burst, he
vanished. By the time the chasers realised the danger, van Aert had begun his
hour-long career-best pull, and the pink jersey was gone.
Guimard also suggests that this strategic passivity was a
symptom of broader pressure, particularly on the young UAE team of Del Toro and
Ayuso.
“There was such excitement around the youngsters that they
perhaps had a little trouble handling the pressure, as well as the strategic
aspect,” he observed. “There was a moment when Ayuso and Del Toro were, whether
we say it or not, in opposition... That’s not what was planned at the start.
The emotional burden and the pressure on these two riders... in my opinion it
cost dearly.”
Del Toro in particular, he believes, may have been trying to
emulate the all-conquering
Tadej Pogacar, a comparison frequently made during
the Giro.
“Yes, so Pogacar, because of his performances, but
especially the way he goes after his victories, by obligation, there is a
desire to mimic,” Guimard said. “More and more, we see riders attacking far
from the finish, taking risks, and sometimes it works... But if he loses, in my
opinion, that’s not it.”
The implication here is subtle but important. Pogacar’s
style may be thrilling and successful, but copying it without the same physical
supremacy is a strategic trap, one that Del Toro fell into. After all, Pog is
truly one of a kind…
And yet, Guimard’s tone is not cynical. There is admiration
for Del Toro’s ambition, for his willingness to try, and even for the
unpredictability that the Giro continues to provide.
“The Giro is an event where there are many more
breakaways... stages that are more interesting than what we can have in the
Tour de France, which is still a little too locked down,” he said. “There,
there is movement and it’s interesting to follow.”
Pedersen was the highlight of week 1 of the Giro
But alongside that praise, Guimard poses a larger question
about the structure of modern racing. Referring to Mads Pedersen’s dominance in
the points classification, he wonders what these “secondary classifications”
really contribute to the competition.
“Do these secondary classifications... correspond to
something that can be used for something in the course of the race? I have the
impression that we should perhaps think about the model of these secondary
classifications in the future.”
Pedersen’s brilliance in the sprints was undeniable, but
Guimard’s point is that this kind of parallel competition, while rewarding
consistency, may be drifting from the heart of the racing narrative. If a rider
like Yates, who didn’t win a stage, can win the Giro, and a rider like
Pedersen, who dominated multiple days, still finishes with limited impact on
the overall picture, perhaps there’s a structural question worth asking.
He’s not alone in raising this. But was it still not amazing
to see Pedersen at his very best, especially in week 1?
Still, if there was one figure who transcended both
structure and narrative, it was Wout van Aert. Guimard gives the Belgian full
credit for the pivotal role he played on the Finestre.
“Who thinks that Van Aert will pass the Finestre like he
did? And to be able to ride so fast after?” Guimard asked. “But, after
analysis, when the race is over, yes, it was a mistake [to let him go].”
The combination of Yates’ timing and van Aert’s power was
simply too much. The fact that this move echoed past editions, “Hinault, he
also won a Giro d’Italia that way,” Guimard recalls, only reinforces how
timeless this tactic is: let one man go up the road, have him wait, and
detonate the race from behind.
Guimard’s final thoughts turn to the Dauphiné, where
Pogacar, Vingegaard, and Evenepoel will race together for the first time since
the 2024 Tour. And once again, he injects caution into the preview.
“Just because you won the Dauphiné ahead of Vingegaard...
doesn’t mean you’ll win the Tour,” he warned. “We’re facing riders who are
coming off work blocks. Vingegaard, we don’t even know if he has raced since
the beginning of the year.”
That’s not a dismissal, but a reminder. In modern cycling,
preparation matters more than race days. Evenepoel knows this very well, as in
last year’s Dauphine he was dropped on the climbs, but a month later he was on
the Tour podium.
“We’ll still have clues, but we have to look around, not in
the middle.”