LEUVEN (Belgium) – It always happens, when you pack your suitcase of classics and leave up here, that you look back. And then the long wait for the return flight becomes the excuse to rewind the tape and relive the moments of emotion that made us jump on the sofa, on the press room chair, on the side of the road, because everyone at this point will be able to connect the emotions of the Northern Classics to the precise moment in which they felt them.
We had to spend the day between checking out of the apartment in Liège and the flight home and so we stopped in the sun of a café in Leuven, in front of City Hall all wrapped up for the work that will bring it back to its splendor.
Walking through the streets of the city and after passing by by car on the straight that brought the rainbow jersey to Elisa Balsam e Filippo BaronciniFor a moment it seemed we could still hear the chatter of that time, then the daily routine of hundreds of students and bicycles took over. And while we sipped the last Leffe of this trip, we began to let the notes flow in the notebook that accompanied us on the roads of the Northern Classics.
The Flanders of discord
We had arrived at Flanders, the first Monument among the Northern classics, with Van der Poel's victory at Harelbeke, his duel with Van Aert in the New Ghent (later won by Philipsen) and Ganna's triumph in WaregemIt's a shame that Pippo then went back home: he had Roubaix in his mind and thought that Flanders would be too tough. In fact, while he was leaving, Pogacar arrived in Belgium that after the Sanremo hangover, he would have tried to transform the Muri race and the Roubaix, the two classics that awaited him, into a hellish arena.
There was someone to tell us about it Filippo Lorenzon, in that part of Belgium that speaks Flemish and drowns time in beer. Flanders on television, however, was told to us on Eurosport, because RAI didn't broadcast it (among the classics, the Amstel and the Flèche Wallonne were also left uncovered) with the predictable protests of those who would have appreciated it instead.
But it was the Flanders of very different disputes. Of Van der Poel very strong, but not enough to resist Pogacar on the Qwaremont, yet stubbornly generous in giving him changesA few seconds behind them was Evenepoel and we will never know what would have changed if Remco had returned.
They say that Van der Poel collaborated because among equal riders, cunning is not used and anyone who suggests doing so is called a Solon. In this cycling world where likes matter more than victories, is it forbidden to be cunning? What good is a second place finish in Flanders if your name is Van der Poel and you've already lost Sanremo? Pogacar instead he did his part and won, as he does every time he attacks the number, in the tours and classics: as he did at the Strade Bianche and the Sanremo. And Van der Poel, despite being very strong, saw him go.
The Roubaix of tears
All Roubaix, there was for the first time Stefano Masi and he did well too. The rookie's luck in these Northern classics delivered him one of the most beautiful victories of recent years: Van Aert's.
The cabal of the classics is ruthless and the very strong Van der Poel, the one who in Flanders played on equal terms with the strongest of all time (that's how Pogacar is defined), found himself on foot in the Arenberg Forest for a double puncturePogacar had also previously punctured (raise your hand if you survived this Roubaix!). This time, however, in defiance of etiquette among peers, Mathieu began to push hard to make his return difficult.
Tadej instead came back because the Dutchman took a breather in the second part of the Forest and at that very moment he got a puncture and found himself with a Philipsen bike that had the wrong pedalsSometimes it happens even to the best, in the most important classics.
Wild West scenes, with chunks of earth being kicked up by very fast wheels and very violent kickbacks on the handlebars. His furious pursuit was prodigious, but he was blunted by Pogacar and then by Van Aert who took the trouble and certainly the pleasure (cit.) of getting in front to prevent him from rejoining. In these tough classics you fight, the opponents suddenly become enemies.
The long one Tadej and Wout's race towards Roubaix was one of the most lyrical sporting moments of the campaign of these classics and perhaps of the whole yearPogacar tried wildly to break away, but in the classics without climbs, even Tadej seems somewhat normal again. And Van Aert must have seen an opportunity to make up for years of insane bad luck.
He controlled him, he didn't wear himself out giving him changes, maybe because he had the humility of not feeling equal to the strongest of all timeHe took the wheel to protect himself from the wind with tightrope walker tricks. And when it came to sprinting, he took the anger and melancholy of so many second places, shook them into an explosive mixture, and he unloaded everything he had into the pedalsIt's hard to say, as some have speculated, whether Pogacar was happy either. Van Aert certainly was and God only knows he didn't deserve it..
The Arrow of Wonder
Time to see Evenepoel's Amstel and note the wonders of Seixas in the Tour of the Basque Country and it was time to Vallone Arrow. Once upon a time, on the eve of the week, the men were changed.The pavé climbers left and the climbers for the Ardennes classics arrived: in some years we even went to Brussels airport to welcome them and photograph them with their suitcases and maybe we took the opportunity to go to the Cargo Area and send the slide rolls to Italy to have them developedThose born later will never fully appreciate the immense change that began with digital cameras.
Times change, men change, and the scenery changes, and sometimes even the routes of the classics. The stones and dust of the plains give way to hills of conifers and climbs and the Mur d'Huy with its six votive chapels becomes an inexorable via crucis.
It was sunny when we left Herstal, but the brightest light was from Paul Seixas on the Mur d'Huy. We had imagined it when presenting the race: without Pogacar, he would have won. This is indeed what happened, but the awareness with which the Frenchman (19 years old and making his debut in these classics) rejected the banal equation shone a light on his maturity. Not a hesitation in speaking, no fear of admitting any limitations or even of talking about his desire to win.The only issues he's playing dumb about are his participation in the Tour and his possible signing for different teams.
He took the lead at the 250-meter mark of the Wall, left in the right place by his teammates, motivated like missionaries. Then he gradually accelerated, taking the oxygen from his rivals' muscles, drop by drop. He didn't crush them like Pogacar did last year, but he still pushed them relentlessly to the breaking point.. Fleche Wallonne won at 19, while Evenepoel, who had stayed at home to rest, was heading towards Liège.
The Cannibal's Liège
Liege, the final act in the long journey of the classics. The beer is running low and since we have to drive we resist the temptation to ask for another. They say that to win the fourth Pogacar did not have to work hard to get rid of Seixas, the truth is that the Frenchman was the toughest rival that Tadej has recently found on his path, like Pidcock at Sanremo, but on a path a thousand times harder.
There was anticipation of the great occasions. On one side, Tadej, returning after his Roubaix defeat. On the other, Seixas, who was attracting attention.. Then Evenepoel, coming off a victory at Amstel and two Liège titles in the past, still won them. Then Pidcock and a succession of other names chasing the podium. At the team presentations in Place Saint Lambert, crowds of children leaned over the barriers asking for autographs and calling them all by name. the doyenne of all classics (first edition in 1892) not a single ingredient was missing.
Liège is a continuous network of highways and small roads. The good ones see them pass by even six times, but when they arrive at the Redoute they usually stop and enjoy the passageThe standard routes instead include a stop at Baraque Frituur, then the Cote de Saint Roch in Houffalize, then the climb and descent of the Stockeu, and finally a nice fast run to the finish.
The sudden escape of 52 riders led to the suspicion of a serious error by the chasing group and It would have been if those riders had been there by choiceIt would have been a huge ambush, and Evenepoel could have seized the opportunity to win. Instead, they were there by chance, and it showed.
For those who say that La Redoute is less incisive than it once was, we recommend relive the approach and then the explosion. As on Mount Sante Marie, on Cipressa and on Poggio, as on Qwaremont, the fastest rider of all time launched the fastest attack of all time, climbing the iconic climb at an average of 24,2 m (opening photo). Yet he says that when he turned around, he knew exactly that Seixas would be there: perhaps he didn't expect that on the summit the Frenchman took the KOM by employing according to Velon one second less than him.
Remco's surrender
Let's be honest, with the last sip of beer gone, no one believed that Seixas could detach Tadej: on the Redoute it had already seemed on the hook And how many times can you die in the saddle? Seixas succeeded the first time, but had to bow the second. And when he too was cooked, Tadej accelerated while sitting and left him thereThe gap is still notable, it was seen in the classics and we will probably discover it in the next Tours: those eight years of difference require the right times (Pogacar himself did his 2 years as U23), but the prospects are crazy.
The Slovenian It didn't seem as tight as it was at Sanremo, observing him in interviews and then on the bike, he seems to still have that extra something that perhaps he needed in Roubaix. Or moving from the rocks to the climbs, he worked on his strength. Certainly he used force with ease: he increased the pace and forced Seixas to surrender.
Behind them, Evenepoel once again showed his weakness and then in the post-match press conference, he seemed almost embarrassed at having to justify his lacklustre performance. There was much more spirit in the Skjelmose's attempts that in his sprint for third placeWho knows if his astonishing professionalism at 18 years old hasn't imposed a limit on his development that is now becoming clear. Maybe that's not true and Remco will amaze us again, but If we were in Seixas' shoes and those who manage it, we would give it some thought.
