Watching Pogačar's Ascent to Greatest Ever from Inside the Tour de France Peloton

There’s a scene in “Good Will Hunting” where Matt Damon, playing a wildly prodigious math whiz named Will Hunting, holds up a paper containing a problem that his Harvard professor, Dr. Lambeau, has spent the better part of his academic life studying, and says to Lambeau, “Do you know how easy this is for me? Do you have any idea how fucking easy this is for me? This is a fucking joke. And I’m sorry you can’t do this, I really am, because I wouldn’t have to sit here and watch you fumble around and fuck it up.” Damon then proceeds to take the paper and light it on fire.

Every time I watch Tadej Pogačar race, I think of this scene.

Like I talked about in my blog about our team’s playlist, during a grand tour, I think it’s super important to keep morale high at the dinner table. Sometimes, though, conversation among tired riders begins to fade, and everyone is left staring at the 400 grams of pasta they still have to consume.

One of my favorite topics to break everyone out of this cycle is: what are your top-five athletes? It’s a crowd-pleaser. Guys who have stared at their phones for most of dinner will light up and chime in. People are always passionate about this subject. Is it Michael Jordan? Ali? Usain Bolt? Messi? The ensuing debate is always great and gets everyone involved.

Since I started bringing up this subject, no cyclist has ever been mentioned in the top five. Maybe the odd Belgian will have mentioned Merckx, and perhaps someone will say, “If he was clean, Lance?” But no cyclist ever makes the top five, let alone the top 10. Until now. 

Cycling, to me, relative to other pro sports, doesn’t really have the reach or depth to place a rider in my top five. Guys like Jordan and Messi make my list because they have dominated some of the most competitive and popular sports in the world, and they’ve done so in such a commanding fashion that their names are synonymous with greatness. Say “Bolt,” and immediately images of superlative feats flash through the mind. However, what Tadej is now doing in our sport is beginning to put him into this conversation.

Merckx and Hinault couldn’t hold a candle to what Pogačar has achieved in his still-short career. When those riders were racing, the sport was really only popular in four countries (France, Belgium, Italy, and maybe Spain). There were around four billion people on the planet, and some of the guys they were racing against still worked full-time jobs. The 2025 era of cycling is far different. Riders come from every corner of the globe and earn far more than enough to devote their entire lives to the craft. Yet Pogačar shows up and wins on every type of terrain and every style of race — including the sport’s biggest event — in dominant fashion. In this race alone, he has already eclipsed the 100-win mark, holds the KOM jersey, sits in second in the green jersey classification, and has established a four-minute gap on his next closest rival — and a staggering seven-minute gap to third.

Yes, I am sure there’s a bit of sadness and jealousy among every other rider in the race regarding Tadej. I know I feel it. I mean, my greatest achievement in sport — winning a stage at the Tour, something that took countless hours and a lifetime to accomplish — is trivialized and made to seem mundane by him (he’s already won four stages in this race). But, in racing with him — and watching him — I also feel lucky.

After stage 12 of this race, I was sitting in doping control. The day had been the hottest in the Tour so far, and I was unlucky enough to be selected for doping control. After being on some form of whereabouts program since 2004, I can almost always pee on demand.

But after 4,000 meters of climbing in 35 degrees, I was dryer than a chicken breast at a Formula 1 hotel buffet. It took me over two hours to produce a sample, and as I sat impatiently drinking bottles of water in an RV at the top of Hautacam, I watched other tired riders come in and out of doping control. I chatted with Simon Yates for a bit, and he was about as cooked as I was. Then, in one moment, the door swung open — and Pogacar entered. Unlike every other rider in that RV, the man who had just won the most demanding stage of the Tour so far waltzed in with freshness and a pep in his step. Smiling, he entered, quickly produced his sample, turned to us, and said, “Good job today, boys,” and exited. He wasn’t carrying the burden or stress of having to be the best rider in the world. He wasn’t complaining about the inconvenience of doing countless interviews or producing a sample of urine on demand; he was just enjoying the entire process.

Tadej is an entertainer. Like Usain Bolt, he lets you in and shares the fun he’s having in dominating the game. It’s watching genius at work, and it’s damn rare. So, as this Tour rolls on and Tadej rides toward yet another resounding victory, I say, go ahead, Tadej, and continue to burn it all up.