Biased Blow-By-Blow - 2026 Tour de France Stage 15

Introduction

It’s upon us: the Grand Boucle. In case you’re new to the Tour, “Boucle” is French for “Boucle.” This is far and away the most important bike race there is, blah blah blah. Even still, it’s taken me a while to muster up enough gumption to wake up early and blog it live—for the simple reason that it’s generally the most boring race on the calendar. But don’t leave! I’ll breathe life into this report, I promise! It’ll be like improv! Also, this blog is your one-stop-shop for Tour news because during the lulls in today’s action I’ll fill you in on what’s been going over the last couple weeks. (Two-word synopsis: pretty boring.)

Why is the Tour boring? Two words: Tadej Pogacar. Probably even NASCAR fans have heard of him by now. Pogacar is the extraterrestrial rider who wins almost constantly, usually by just riding away from everyone, soloing for 30,40, 50 kilometers at a shot, over any kind of terrain. He might as well be a major league ball player who returns to Little League, or a heavyweight boxing champion beating up junior high kids. Pogacar rides for the well-stocked UAE Team Emirates XRG team, headed up by one of the greatest villains in modern cycling, Mauro Gianetti, who was a known doper as a racer, and who as a director is known for his not-normal protégés like Riccardo Riccò, Leonardo Piepoli, and Juan José Cobo. If you haven’t heard of these guys, here’s the ultra-short bio they all share: all eerily strong, and all got popped for doping. So anyhow, if I seem less than psyched to see Pogacar dominating another Tour it’s because I’m not. (And is he dominating this Tour? Spoiler alert: yes, completely.)

Is it fair to cast aspersions on Pogacar based on the person running his team? Decide for yourself but consider this: Pogacar’s weird ultra-short haircut, the color of chicken Top Ramen, looks a lot like Riccò’s back in the day. Coincidence? Decide for yourself.

Still, anything can happen in this sport, including a tight battle for second place, or some cataclysm that reshapes things, or riders getting in a fistfight, or maybe even a podium girl wardrobe malfunction (as the Tour has resumed the podium girl tradition, albeit with only one girl per podium, oddly enough). Read on for what might possibly be a diverting blow-by-blow report of the 184-kilometer (114-mile) mountain stage finishing atop the hors categorie (i.e., “too difficult to classify”) Plateau de Solaison.

(Why do I call this a “biased” blow-by-blow? I refer you to my description of Gianetti above and the pall I feel that casts over Pogacar. A professional journalist would bite his tongue so as to seem impartial, whereas I say: why be impartial to a rider who hugs a monster like Gianetti after the finish line? If you agree with me, read on. Otherwise, just scroll down and leave an indignant reply below, showcasing your high dudgeon, and then go read some other coverage by a craven, declawed writer who needs to earn a living at it.)

Tour de France Stage 15 – Champagnole to Plateau de Solaison

As I join the action, the riders have 57 kilometers to go and are nearing the base of the third-to-last climb, the Category 1 Col de la Croisette. “Croisette” doesn’t translate literally to English, but it’s kind of like a small, sweet croissant, the French equivalent of a cronut. (Yeah, I made that up.) There’s a breakaway off that has just under three minutes. The commentator Tejay van Garderen is predicting that Jonas Vingegaard (Team Visma - Lease a Bike), who sits second on GC, is planning a long-range attack. This would be exciting for sure and also very surprising, because if you’re not Pogacar, all you get to do in this Tour is be on the ropes—you don’t get to dictate the trajectory of a mountain stage. You might as well try to commandeer a city bus. But who knows, perhaps Vingegaard could try something like that, so that only Pogacar could catch up (easily, while breathing through his nose) but not Remco Evenepoel (Red Bull - Bora - Hansgrohe), who sits third on GC and is the main threat to Vingegaard’s second place overall, which is the only GC ambition he can realistically have.

Since nothing interesting is happening on the road right now, I’ll brief you on what’s gone down in this Tour so far. It started out well, with a team time trial, one of my favorite events. Team Visma - Lease a Bike rode a sweet race, putting Vingegaard in yellow. Pogacar was only third, because the Netcompany Ineos team also rode very well and their fastest time trialist, Filippo Ganna, went four seconds quicker. (The race no longer counts the time of the fifth rider in a TTT; now it’s the first, so when a team feels they’re close enough to the line that their leader no longer needs them, he solos. This matches the overall modern ethos of humankind, I think. All for himself and none for all!)

Now the riders are on the base of the climb. The gap is down to 2:37. Riders are going out the back of the peloton one after the other. Up in the breakaway, Tom Pidcock (Pinarello-Q36.5) leads ahead of Quinn Simmons (Lidl-Trek).

And what’s this? Simmons gives a high-five to a devoted, flag-wielding superfan!

It’s the best day of this fan’s life! Look at him shouting encouragement.

Check out that hair, that tank top. You know what? I don’t care whether this is an insane local or one of my countrymen: ‘Mer’ca!

So of the 24 members of the original breakaway, it’s down to eight. The two Visma - Lease a Bike riders have been dropped, so either they’re putting a “satellite” strategy into play (i.e., they’re dropping back to help Vingegaard with an attack) or they’re just dropped. If we apply the “Occam’s Razor” notion to the situation (i.e., the simplest explanation is the most likely one), I’d say the latter.

Back in the peloton, Visma leads the chase. They’re keeping the gap pretty stable.

And what’s this? Simmons attacks the break! OMG, he must have been inspired by that superfan!

He’s suddenly got a huge gap! Freakin’ crazy!

This is amazing. I just went and woke up my daughter. She’s gotta see this (and quick, before Simmons is reeled in!). He’s got 17 seconds and might just be the first American to lead a stage over a major climb since, well, gosh, probably Sepp Kuss (Visma - Lease a Bike) five years ago.

Simmons continues to power the pace. He’s not exactly built like a climber. In fact, he looks a lot like the guys at the Golds Gym I went to in Santa Barbara back in ’90.

Man, the throng of fans is incredible, so many of them! I can’t tell what they’re yelling, but it’s probably something along the lines of “USA! USA!”

And Quinn takes maximum KOM points over the summit!

I’m not sure Simmons has any interest in the KOM competition (though surely many enemies of freedom would be glad to stop having to see his stars-and-stripes jersey). He’s only in 30th place in the KOM competition. He must have ambitions for the stage win, bless his heart.

They’re on the descent now, with the group gradually reeling in Simmons. So I’ll get back to my recap. Stage 2 was a bit hilly but not a mountain stage, but that didn’t stop Pogacar and his top domestique, the young Mexican sensation Isaac del Toro, from launching a blistering attack near the end that was so devastating to the others, Pogacar was able to sit up at the end and gift the stage to del Toro. This cut Pogacar’s GC deficit in half so he trailed Vingegaard by an insignificant six seconds. Pogacar then bided his time and—wait, no, he didn’t bide his time. He won Stage 3 in a sprint and took the yellow jersey. Stage 4 was actually kind of interesting, with a big breakaway that took over four minutes out of the GC favorites and was won by Mads Petersen (Lidl-Trek), the former world champion who’s largely a sprint specialist. Simmons, his teammate (who led him out) took second. The GC lead was taken over by Torstein Træn, whose name sounds pretty funny if you say it three times fast. Stage 5 was for the sprinters and was won by Olav Kooij (Decathlon CMA CGM Team), whom nobody in the entire peloton had even met before. Træn kept yellow, and the American Sean Quinn (EF Education-Easypost) stayed in second overall.

Getting back to the action, Visma leads the chase in the peloton. Why? Commitment. They made a commitment to lose another Tour, and by God they’re gonna honor it.

The breakaway, five riders now, is at the base of the Category 3 Cote du Mont, 2.1 kilometers long at 8.3%. Simmons is back in the fold.

Adam Yates (UAE Team Emirates-XRG) is on his race radio, perhaps asking, “Why is Visma being so nice? I thought we were gonna have to help pull this break back! Am I supposed to tip these Visma guys?”

Simmons takes a bottle. Or, well, tries to—he fumbles it. D’oh!

Returning to the recap, Stage 6 was a disaster all around with Træn crashing hard and losing yellow. Quinn (who otherwise would have taken the yellow jersey, the first for an American in twenty years) lost almost five minutes to Pogacar, who did this annoying thing where he soloed to victory and took 2:38 out of second-place Vingegaard. The Tour became officially boring at that point. Stage 7 was a sprinters’ stage, won handily by Tim Merlier (Soudal Quick-Step). Merlier won again the next day, and then Stage 9 was pretty interesting with a four-up breakaway that just managed to stay away, with Mathieu Van der Poel leading out the sprint like a boss and holding the other three off. Things got boring again in Stage 10 when Pogacar had another solo victory ahead of a splintered chase group. This stage was slightly noteworthy for two reasons. One, Vingegaard faded at the end, losing ten seconds to the second place finisher Evenepoel. Two, Evenepoel really rallied to win the sprint over the chase group after having been dropped on the last climb. I’ve not historically been much of an Evenepoel fan, but I have to admit, he showed real grit to claw his way back during the final descent and then beat all the dudes who’d dropped him.

Now the break is nearing the summit of the climb, with Pidcock back in the lead. A couple more riders have made it back on. 

Back in the peloton, Victor Campanaerts drives the pace for UAE Team Emirates-XRG despite actually being on the Visma - Lease a Bike team. It’s an inspiring bit of generosity in a sport normally known for its professionalism. Perhaps Visma’s directeur sportif saw one of those bumper stickers encouraging random acts of kindness.

To wrap up the recap, Stage 11 had an exciting finish when the unknown Uno-X Mobility rider Soren Waerenskjold launched his sprint way early and yet held everyone off. His smile was big enough to cover at least two standard-sized human faces. Stage 12 was another sprint stage and Merlier won again, with a crazy long sprint starting from way too far back that really showed how amazingly strong that dude is. Stage 13 ended with a two-up breakaway, and the winner, Mauro Schmid (Team Jayco Alula) won by enough margin to pop a pretty sweet wheelie over the finish line. The narration of the replay was rather odd, in the NBC/Peacock coverage: Phil Liggett said, “Watch the way he smashes his bike on the finishing line just to make sure.” Huh? Make sure of what?

Anyhow, yesterday’s stage was another yawner, with Pogacar soloing again and taking another 44 seconds out of Vingegaard, who again faded at the end and finished fourth. And again, Evenepoel was dropped toward the end but fought his way back and finished just four seconds behind Vingegaard, and a couple seconds ahead of his (Evenepoel’s) teammate Florian Lipowitz, who shares the team leadership with him and finished third in last year’s Tour. Maybe today will be the really bad day for Evenepoel where he loses lots of time. (This happens every year.) For now, Evenepoel sits third overall, half a minute behind Vingegaard who is four and a half minutes behind Pogacar.

Speaking of Schmid, he has been in the breakaway (I guess I should have mentioned that) and has now dropped the others to go it alone on the descent. Not much will happen in the next few minutes so I’ll (finally) get around to listing the breakaway riders, which is kind of sad since they’re most likely doomed. So along with Schmid, Pidcock, and Simmons, we’ve got Adam Yates (UAE Team Emirates-XRG), Einer Rubio (Movistar Team), Ewen Costiou (Groupama-FDJ United), and Yannis Voisard (Tudor Pro Cycling Team).

Okay, this is embarrassing. I didn’t realize, until I did my roll call, that Yates was in the break. This would explain why UAE can reasonably refuse to help with the chase. So it is left to Visma to take it up, to defend Vingegaard’s second place on GC.

And now Shmid, still solo, does a huge bunny-hop just out of sheer exuberance, or perhaps (to adopt Liggett’s theory) to “smash his bike” on the asphalt “just to make sure.”

Oh, crap! There’s a big crash in the main bunch! Daaaamn, it’s Vingegaard!

He’s on the ground and his shoulders are rocking, he’s obviously in agony. The impact knocked his chain off and the guy holding his bike isn’t bothering to put it back on. I think it’s clear to everyone, already, that Vingegaard is not going to get up. The medic comes over. Somebody is giving him a consoling pat on the back. It’s all over for him.

Sure enough, now they slowly help him to his feet and lead him to a van. What a shame.

As my daughter just astutely pointed out, the polite pause of the peloton has allowed the gap to the breakaway to go back out, to almost three minutes (after having been down to 2:20). Any show of ambition by UAE at this moment would look kind of untoward.

They’re showing a replay of the crash. Pogacar just barely missed getting caught up in it. Phil says, rather uncharitably, “It was Vingegaard’s own fault, nobody ran into him or anything.” Well yeah, but his front tire washed out for no apparent reason—as sometimes happens, disconcertingly enough (don’t tell my wife!). It’s just bad luck.

Back in the front, Schmid has somehow extended his lead out to 25 seconds over the rest of the break. I’m trying to get a photo but the camera bike is in the wrong place. “This is the only sport where much of the footage is of the athletes’ butts,” I say to my daughter, who replies, “Or lack thereof.” True, true.

With Vingegaard out, the top of the virtual GC is a bunch of youngsters including Juan Ayuso (Lidl-Trek, age 23), del Toro (age 22), and Paul Seixas (Decathlon CMA CGM Team, the 19-year-old French wunderkind who now sits third overall in the virtual GC). My daughter asks, “How old is Evenepoel?” I reply that he’s a … summer chicken. (Is that a thing?) (He’s 26, which is ancient for a gymnast but not for a stage racer.) (My daughter, reading this as I write it, asks if it’s okay to have two parentheticals in a row. I see her two and raise it to three.) (I could do this all day.)

It’s only 9 kilometers to go and Simmons is reeling in Schmid! Schmid’s look back is the kiss of death for his solo move.

My goodness, now Simmons has totally dropped Schmid! He’s on fire! And he’s got 1:41 over the chasers so it’s just barely possible he could win this! Wouldn’t that be amazing?

Daaaaamn, he’s suddenly got ten seconds on the chase group! It’s unbelievable!

Now the peloton’s chase is being led by Red Bull - Bora - Hansgrohe. They’re trying to defend Evenepoel’s (virtual) second overall. I really don’t know who, up the road, would be a threat on GC anyway, but whatever.

The gap to Simmons is dropping, but not very quickly—he still has 1:37. But it’s over 7 kilometers to the finish … that’s an awfully long way on this gnarly climb. Just look at the profile:

Oh dear. Pogacar takes the front. “He’s now in a group of just three riders, including himself,” Phil says cryptically. Only del Toro and Evenepoel can keep up. Or is that Lipowitz? The gap to Simmons is already down to a minute. Okay, it’s Evenepoel in this group. Pogacar looks almost bored. Evenepoel looks composed. Del Toro has a look in his eye that would send a chill down any competitor’s spine.

Simmons still looks good but the gap is down to 26 seconds. Yates has dropped back from the break and is now on the front drilling it for Pogacar. The break has completely dissolved. The gap between Simmons and the Pidcock group is actually going up and sits at 39 seconds (not that that helps or anything). In theory Simmons could latch on to this trio and contest the sprint later, except—Pogacar.

Now the yellow jersey group is in the lead. The camera was pointed elsewhere at the moment they came past Simmons. Ah, here’s the replay.

Man, they just blew by him like he was a bit of road furniture. And now Yates completely detonates and goes out the back, having done a great job helping to pummel Evenepoel, who (admirably) is still there. So it’s down to three leaders again, and Evenepoel must be defecating cinder blocks right now. (That’s gotta hurt.)

Speaking of hurt, del Toro really looks like he’s suffering. Evenepoel, on the other hand, looks really collected. Or does he just have a good poker face?

In theory, del Toro would be setting the pace here to help his leader, but that’s not how the sport works anymore. Pogacar is too strong for that, and obviously doesn’t need any help. It’s only a matter of time before he attacks, to pad his 5-minute GC lead over Evenepoel.

Weirdly, Liepowitz has been no help to his teammate Evenepoel. He’s off the back with the Seixas group, which has dropped Pidcock and is actually only a duo now.

Del Toro’s shoulders are really rocking, he’s clearly suffering. They have just 2 kilometers to go. If somehow Evenepoel could stay with Pogi when he attacks, it’s just barely possible he could outsprint him at the end. I mean, you have to dream big for a non-boring outcome in this race, right?

My best guess at Evenepoel’s strategy right now is hoping Pogacar forgets to attack.

But what’s this? It’s del Toro who attacks! In the time it took me to try to grab a snapshot (with my phone camera, since Peacock blocks screen captures), del Toro was caught and sat back down. Not sure why he made that doomed move, and now he’s staying on the front setting tempo. Really mysterious behavior for someone who’s clearly hurting and should just be sitting on to improve his GC position. You know what? I’m going to chalk that attack up to a muscle spasm.

But now del Toro goes again! Dang, I failed to get a photo because I thought it was a replay of the first attack. Evenepoel is right on him! It’s as though del Toro has forgotten what team he’s on! He’s setting Evenepoel up perfectly for the sprint!

Evenepoel begins to come around del Toro!

He’s got the jump on Pogacar!

Evenepoel closes in on the line and Pogacar, sitting on, just might get vanquished!

And Evenepoel has got the win!

For some reason the press isn’t following the riders after they come across the line; who knows where they’re being corralled. So it’s nothing but replay footage for a while until they corner Mauro Gianetti, head of the UAE Team Emirates-XRG team. They interview him.

INTERVIEWER: Was this the strategy for today, to set up del Toro?

GIANETTI: No, that wasn’t really the plan, but you adapt the plan as you go along. Pogi didn’t need to drive hard for more time, so it was good to get Isaac as close to the podium as possible.

INTERVIEWER: How does it feel to have a new Golden Boy, after your past protégés Riccardo Riccò, Leonardo Piepoli, and Juan José Cobo? You’ve clearly mastered the art of “marginal gains.”

GIANETTI: Why are you giving me a hard time?

INTERVIEWER: Well, a former teammate of yours once said to the media, “Doping is so ingrained in certain managers, like Gianetti, that they can't conceive of cycling any other way.” When I pair that with Pogacar’s absolute dominance of the sport, it rankles.

GIANETTI: Did you guys not get the memo, after Chris Froome was mysteriously exonerated despite his positive drug test? Doping control is over. It’s game-on. You should look the other way like everyone else.

INTERVIEWER: Gosh, it would be so cool if this were an actual interview instead of a complete fabrication by an unapologetically biased blogger.

Here’s the stage result.

Now they’ve located Evenepoel and interview him.

INTERVIEWER: How does it feel?

EVENEPOEL: I’m literally trembling right now.

INTERVIEWER: I don’t see you trembling. You appear calm and your body is motionless.

EVENEPOEL: Well, I was speaking kind of metaphorically.

INTERVIEWER: But you literally said you were “literally” trembling.

EVENEPOEL: Well, sure, but the way “literally” is used in the modern vernacular, it doesn’t literally mean “literally.” It’s just used for general emphasis, like “totally.”

INTERVIEWER: You’re a bike racer, not a linguist. Can you really argue this point with any authority?

EVENEPOEL: Look, I’ll give you an example. Remember when Google went down for a few hours back in 2022? Someone tweeted, “OMG, I cannot BELIEVE Google is down. I am LITERALLY using Bing right now.”

INTERVIEWER: Touché.

Here is the new GC:

Now the Peacock commentator Steve Porino is interviewing Matthew Riccitello (Decathlon CMA CGM Team):

PORINO: What can you tell us about the race?

RICCITELLO: Let me turn that around: what can you tell me? Why do you even have a job? You know nothing about the sport, you never raced, and your voice is annoying.

PORINO: That really hurts my feelings. I thought you might appreciate the opportunity to be on camera for no apparent reason.

RICCITELLO: Project much?

(Yeah, I fabricated that entire interview. Nothing coherent was actually said by either party; it was stillborn as Riccitello was pulled away after like five seconds.)

Simmons gets a little photo-op with Pogacar.

That’s Simmons’ dad who snapped the photo. I guess facial hair runs in the family.

They interviewed Pogacar but it was mostly boring. The only interesting thing he said (which I am not making up) was, “We had doping control at 2 a.m., and when your sleep is ruined maybe you’re less concentrated on the descent. Maybe these events [the doping control and Vingegaard’s crash] may be a little bit connected so it’s sad to see.”

Simmons wins the Combativity award for the day.

Now they interview him:

INTERVIEWER: Well, you were really close to a stage win!

SIMMONS: Not that close. [Chuckles.]

INTERVIEWER: You must be happy with your form, anyway.

SIMMONS: I always come better and better in the race, I start off really hurting in the first week, now I’m getting stronger each day. I’m fully here to support Mads, it’s clear that’s the team’s priority and they write my paycheck so I’ll do what I’m told. If I can help him win the green jersey I’ll be happy.

INTERVIEWER: That’s a very humble thing to say. Given your resemblance to General Custer, I expected something along the lines of, “There are not enough Indians in the world to defeat the Seventh Cavalry.”

SIMMONS: Who are you?

INTERVIEWER: Literally nobody. A fictitious character. A figment of a blogger’s imagination.

(Note: some of that interview was fairly accurate. You get to guess where I started freestyling.)

Well, I think that’s enough for today. Check back this Saturday because I’ll cover the queen (and penultimate) stage featuring three hors categorie climbs and finishing atop the legendary Alpe d’Huez! If Evenepoel is still sitting second on GC at that point, Stage 20 will be either his finest hour, or his Waterloo…

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Biased Blow-By-Blow - 2026 Paris-Nice Stage 8

Introduction

Almost thirty years ago my wife and I were visiting the south of France, and at a train station were spied by a fellow American. This was disappointing in and of itself because we were trying not to look like tourists. We probably thought we were dressing in a Euro style, and lots of foreigners wear Levi’s, but clearly we were easily identifiable by our countryman. He looked like Elmer Fudd and, in the loud and uninhibited style we Americans are known and despised for, he hollered across the platform at us, “Does REE-tard mean late?!” He was referring to the signs announcing the delays caused by the almost inevitable rail workers’ strike that day. I resisted the temptation to reply, “No, REE-tard means you!” Because of course I was too politically correct, even then.

And what does this have to do with the Paris-Nice stage race? Almost nothing, unless you saw the word “Nice” and sounded out our English word “nice” in your head. It’s pronounced “neece,” you retard. Pardon my French. (Don’t pretend you thought I was using a vulgar and insensitive English word; I was using the French word that’s pronounced “ray-TARRR,” to suggest that you were late to grasp that this race ends in a city in southern France. I mean, come on!) Anyway, today I cover the final stage of this eight-day race, in my unprofessional blogger’s style, jettisoning journalistic traditions of impartiality and tongue-biting, particularly in the case of someone I think is doping, whom I might flippantly refer to as a … dummy. And during lulls in today’s action, I’ll fill you in on what happened in the first seven stages, too.

Paris-Nice Stage 8 – Nice to Nice

As I join the action, the riders have finished the first categorized climb of the day and are descending toward the Category 1 Côte de Châteauneuf-Villevielle which I translate as “coast of nine castles old city.” Whatever, French dudes. Valentin Paret-Peintre (Soudal-Quickstep) is off the front solo, chased by Marc Soler (UAE Team Emirates – XRG) about 35 seconds back. A reduced peloton is another 30 seconds behind Soler. There are about 50 kilometers to go so obviously the breakaway’s only hope is if some great riders bridge up to them. Here’s a photo of Paret-Peintre. Sorry it’s so grainy … Peacock blocks screen captures, because you know, if people are able to grab still images of cycling footage, the terrorists win.

Since nothing important is happening at the moment, I’ll catch you up on what’s gone down in this stage race so far. First off, Tadej Pogacar (UAE Team Emirates XRG) is not here. If he were, I wouldn’t bother to watch, much less report, since he wins constantly, easily, almost inevitably, without needing any tactics. For example, he soloed with like 80 kilometers to go in Strade Bianche recently. He makes the race and the sport boring AF. (If you’re not familiar with the acronym “AF,” click here or ask a teenager.)

In Pogacar’s absence, his perennial nemesis Jonas Vingegaard (Team Visma – Lease A Bike) is dominating the Paris-Nice GC, having handily soloed to victory in stages 4 and 5. The Dane is 3:22 ahead of the next rider, Daniel Martinez (Red Bull – Bora Hansgrohe) and 5:50 ahead of Georg Steinhauser (EF Education – Easypost). So it would take a lot (e.g., a crash or illness) to shake up the GC today. The only really close GC battle is for the best young rider competition, which is currently led by Steinhauser who has just 19 seconds over Kevin Vauquelin (Ineos Granadiers). Fun fact about Steinhauser: he shortened his first name from George to Georg to save weight. It seems to be working. Rumor has it Vaquelin is going to start going by “Kev.” It’s what his girlfriend already calls him.

They interviewed Soler earlier and are showing that now:

INTERVIEWER: How are you feeling about the stage?

SOLER: It’s a good, tough stage and I’m only in sixth overall, so if I feel good, I’m going to attack.

INTERVIEWER: Let’s talk about that tantrum you threw during the 2019 Vuelta a Espana when you were off the front and your team called you back to help your team leader. That is, to do your fricking job. And then you were gesticulating and whining like a little bitch.

SOLER: Are you really bringing that up? Come on, man, I was young, inexperienced, hotheaded, and I made a mistake. Why do I have to be tortured about that for the rest of my life?

INTERVIEWER: It left an indelible memory. You were acting like a big spoiled child.

SOLER: Haven’t you ever done something you regret?

INTERVIEWER: Well, when I was in grammar school I lost an 8-inch acrylic rod. I cried for weeks.

Okay, I should come clean about something: I don’t always render those interviews all that accurately, especially if nobody’s saying anything interesting. And that bit about the 8-inch acrylic rod? That was my dad’s self-acknowledged “sole regret.” My brothers love to dredge that up, even more than Soler’s tantrum.

Speaking of Soler, he’s been caught.

The riders are starting their way up the Châteauneuf. Ineos heads the peloton, setting up their leader, Vauquelin. OMG, there’s a crash! It’s Martinez!

It looks like he was passing his teammate, who altered his line and bumped Martinez right into the ramped curb there, flipping him over. Martinez has gotten up but looks like he’s really suffering. His teammates drop back and the team car arrives. They’ve got him a new bike and his team is pacing him back up. But he’s lost a lot of time.

Ineos continues to pound the pedals and the gap to Paret-Peintre is coming down. Vauquelin sits fourth on GC, almost four minutes behind Martinez, so it’s possible he could make it on to the podium, if Martinez is hurt and isn’t able to keep that gap under control.

Getting back to my recap, in terms of the stage results, the first was won by an American, Luke Lamperti, in his first season with the EF Education – Easypost team. He then placed fifth in the second stage, thus keeping the yellow leader’s jersey and (virtually) the green points leader jersey. Stage 2 was won by Max Kanter (XDS Astana Team). The third stage was a team time trial, won by the Ineos Granadiers. Oddly, ASO—the race organizers—have been tinkering with the rules for their TTTs and instead of taking the fourth or fifth rider’s time, they take the first, so teams have much less incentive to stick together. I guess they’re embracing the every-man-for-himself, dog-eat-dog mindset more associated with Americans. Somebody should point this out to the ASO so they come to their senses and go back to the original rules. Anyhow, the result is that Lamperti was left for dead by his team and dropped to 70th place on GC. In the overall, one of the favorites, Juan Ayuso, was well served by his Lidl-Trek squad and took over the GC lead.

Getting back to today’s stage, Visma is on the front setting tempo, presumably to keep Steinhauser from attacking. They’re nearing the summit of this climb.

To finish up my recap, I already mentioned how Vingegaard handily won stages 4 and 5, destroying everyone else. Stage 4 was a monster, with absolutely frigid, wet conditions that saw Ayuso crashing out. Vingegaard was dressed in like five layers, with the straps of his bibs pulled up over his yellow jersey. It was really the most undignified look I’ve ever seen for a race winner. He didn’t do a victory salute at the end, probably for this reason. Stage 6 was won by another XDS Astana Team rider, Harold Tejada, in a bold solo move toward the end. And yesterday’s penultimate stage, which was supposed to have a mountaintop finish, was shortened to just 43 kilometers due to fresh snowfall in the mountains. It was absolutely frigid out there … look at this guy’s crazy getup.

Without the climbs, the stage ended up being another opportunity for the sprinters, with Dorian Godon (Ineos Granadiers) taking  the stage. Lamperti managed fifth, but this wasn’t good enough to save his green jersey.

I would say the most exciting aspect of Paris-Nice so far was this amazing snot comet that Godon had to contend with after his victorious but very cold race yesterday:

Commentators are already calling Godon  “the snottiest man in cycling.” Rumor has it that Kimberly –Clark, the company behind Kleenex, is offering him an endorsement deal.

Paret-Peintre is over the top and maintaining his lead. And now the GC group is up and over. Martinez looks pretty good in the chase group behind, his teammates pacing him and keeping the gap steady.

They’ve got a long descent now and Papi (I’m coining a nickname since I’m too lazy to keep typing the full hyphenated name) is really digging deep. I note that he’s on a Specialized bicycle, which bodes well for him, even if it’s 40 km to the finish.

Now Papi’s on an uncategorized climb and we shall see what this does to his lead. He’s clearly suffering, as his shoulders are rocking and his head is bobbling a bit. Not bobbing, mind you. Bobbling. That’s a much bigger deal.

Visma has three riders left in this group, which is more than other teams do. With Vingegaard’s main rival more than a minute back, Visma doesn’t have much to worry about. It’s not like Steinhauser could take six minutes out of him on the final climb, the Category 1 Côte du Linguador. I mean, it’s only 3.3 km.

It’s time to talk about climb rating inflation. Paris-Nice is terribly guilty of this: all week they’ve had these piddling little climbs they’re calling Cat 1s. It’s total BS. Just looking at today’s climbs, we have the Col de la Porte at Cat 1, and it’s only 7 km at 7.2%. And that Chateau thing they just did: Cat 1, but only 6.6 km at 6.6%. No way is that a true Cat 1 … it gains only 435 meters. You want to know a real Cat 1? The Col du Télégraphe, which is 11.9 km at 7.2%, gaining 1,567 meters. That’s more than triple the elevation gain!

Well, that last little climb was too much for poor Papi. His lead is down to nine seconds with 32 km to go. Surely he’ll get Most Aggressive for the day, which is kind of nice (but doesn’t come with a cash prize like he’d get on a Tour de France stage). Maybe he’ll at least get a bottle of salad dressing or something.

They show Martinez’s crash again and again, like it was the most spectacular footage ever. But it’s just not. We get the frontal shot, then the aerial view, and it’s like come on, the guy basically tipped over. I’m sure it hurt but it’s not that remarkable.

Papi is burying himself but it’s all for naught, you can see the GC group barreling toward him. It’s all over but the crying now. They should play the 1947 song of that name by the Ink Spots. But then, would fans even recognize it? I confess I’ve never heard that song in my life. Maybe I’ll cue it up on YouTube for the next Peacock commercial intermission—of which there are gobs throughout this footage, it’s really annoying.

Now the GC group has caught Papi and he dresses them down. “Thanks a lot, guys,” he complains. “You just shattered my dreams.”

The Red Bull – Bora Hansgrohe team is doing a great job for Martinez. The lead is now under a minute as they tackle this last “Category 1” climb. 

Vingegaard has just one teammate left, his super-domestique Victor Campenaerts, who is a total baller.

Campenaerts is totally drilling it and whoa, there Vingegaard goes! Launches a blistering attack! Suddenly the whole group is covered in blisters. That’s gotta hurt.

The Dane instantly has a huge gap over everyone except Lenny Martinez (Bahrain Victorious).

Back in what’s left of the GC group, Steinhauser is drilling it on the front, trying to reduce his losses and solidify his white jersey of best young rider. He has almost two minutes over Lenny on GC and just needs to keep that gap down, and set a high enough tempo to keep Vauquelin from going up the road.

The two stage leaders have just one klick to go on this climb. Is it klick or click? Let me set up a quick reader poll to decide. Oh, wait. I have no way of setting up a reader poll. Never mind.

Steinhauser has one teammate left so he should be able to defend his GC position. Lenny’s main ambition is likely a stage win. Somehow I doubt he’ll get it, unless he descends like a madman and Vingegaard doesn’t feel like taking any risks.

Sure enough, Lenny is going full throttle on the descent. Vingegaard is playing it safe but still keeping the gap fairly low. Behind, the other Martinez and his crew are keeping the gap to the white jersey group down to just over a minute.

The descent is a bit wet, and as a parent I kind of wince watching the riders sail through the curves. “Be careful, guys!”

Now the descent is over and Vingegaard goes to the front. I don’t see this breakaway getting caught unless the chase really gets organized. And after eight days of racing in the cold these guys probably have strabismus. What’s that? You’re confused? I’m trying to coin a new cycling term here. Surely you’ve heard the expression “cross-eyed” to indicate a rider going so hard he can’t see straight? I’m just trying to make it more clinical. Help me popularize “strabismus,” okay?

Vingegaard’s pulls are way faster than Lenny’s. It’s kind of amazing. They’re about a click/klick from an intermediate sprint point. If the Dane can take this sprint and the stage win, he’ll win the points award (alongside the KOM that he already has). Okay, they’re past it and Lenny got it. So now if Vingegaard wants the green jersey he needs to win the stage. I’d guess he kind of wants that anyway. (You think?)

They’re on the last little descent before the flat run-in, the gap to the white jersey group holding at 36 seconds. These guys are just flying, working really well together.

Surprisingly, the gap is coming down now. The leaders have lost about 10 seconds in the last couple minutes. Steinhauser is drilling it on the front. It’s possible this will come together but I kind of doubt it. As it is, I’m kind of excited for this finish … it’s really impossible to say whom I favor in the sprint.

Ah, the gamesmanship has begun, with Martinez not wanting to pull anymore!

Clearly Vingegaard wants him to lead it out but Lenny is slouching! But Vingegaard won’t pull through! That gap has got to be coming down! But this broadcast isn’t showing the split anymore.

Martinez leads out the sprint! He’s totally hauling ass!

But now Vingegaard is pulling level! It’s down to the wire!

Martinez is a total baller! He holds off the Dane and takes the win!

The rest of the group sprints in and honestly, I don’t actually care how the rest of them did. Okay, here’s the stage result.

They’re interviewing Lenny Martinez.

INTERVIEWER: Ayo, that stage looked brutal, bro.

MARTINEZ: For reals, that whole final stretch I got my director coming through my radio straight whylin’ like “don’t let this busta jack your stage win!”

INTERVIEWER: The action was getting’ straight-up hyphy with the chasers bearing down. And then Vingegaard be triflin’, makin’ you do the work. Kinda grimey!

MARTINEZ: Nah, Vingegaard is straight gully, I’d have done the same. Don’t be tellin’ fans I’m butt-hurt about that, I was just glad I didn’t get pwned in the end!

INTERVIEWER: Word up, you salted his move with a quickness! Balls like King Kong!

MARTINEZ: I’m super amped. That stage was off the chain!

Full disclosure: Martinez was interviewed in French and I’m not exactly fluent. I did my best to capture the gist and spirit of what they were saying.

Here’s Danny Martinez, who’s gotta be relieved he held on to his second overall after that crazy crash. He looks like he’s in a lot of pain.

Papi crosses the line almost seven minutes down. That’s got to be a big letdown. I hope he likes salad dressing. Let’s make that a new expression, okay? Whenever somebody misses out on a big achievement, but stands to get some piddly consolation prize, we can say “I hope he likes salad dressing.”

Here’s the final GC.

They’re interviewing Vingegaard.

INTERVIEWER: So you finally get a Paris-Nice victory, after being third in 2023 and abandoning last year.

VINGEGAARD: Yes, It’s the race I couldn’t get right, and now I finally get it right. I’m extremely happy to sit here in the yellow jersey.

INTERVIEWER: Happy because of the yellow jersey, or because you’re sitting?

VINGEGAARD: Honestly, it just feels good to sit down.

INTERVIEWER: Are you using this victory to send a message to Pogacar?

VINGEGAARD: Are you joking? What would that message be? “I can still win when you’re not there?” Or, “I’m still fairly competent, even if I can’t solo for 80 klicks?”

INTERVIEWER: Hey, how do you spell “klicks”? With a C or a K?

VINGEGAARD: Wow, that’s a fascinating question. I haven’t really thought about it but I will now. I’m really curious about it … could you do a poll or something? I’d love to see that.

INTERVIEWER: Unfortunately, no.

Well, the bit about “finally getting it right” and the question about “sending a message to Pocagar” were real, anyway.

Martinez takes the podium. This is actually pretty interesting: this is the first podium I’ve seen in years that features two women standing next to the winner, both of them attractive. In the olden days it was always two beautiful women on the podium and they’d kiss the winner simultaneously, which was admittedly kind of ridiculous, especially given how sweaty these guys are. So then the sport became embarrassed about that, and got rid of the podium girls entirely. They dabbled in having one man and one woman, attractive but very conservatively dressed, before devolving into a bizarre tradition of two utterly dumpy persons there, literally in like a dingy sweatshirt and, like, plum-colored pants and ugly sneakers. Even earlier in the week we were seeing that here. So it’s refreshing to see this now.

Vingegaard mounts the podium for his final yellow jersey, and we’re down to one attractive woman and one random guy. He’s not dumpy, exactly, but the mixture of khaki, charcoal, and purple seems haphazard. Who is this guy and why is he here? You can’t tell from the still photo but he looks just a little bit disoriented.

And now as the Dane gets his final polka-dot jersey, another rando mounts the podium and also seems confused. In fact, look at his gesture as he looks to Vingegaard for guidance. Kind of a palms-up, “hey, what do I do, I just kind of stand here?” kind of thing. They probably just pulled this guy off the street.

Papi did end up winning the Combativity award. Here he is with the latest rando, who really looks like he dressed in the dark this morning. Camelhair jacket, ratty jeans, and bright white Nike sneakers? And what’s that disco-looking shirt? I thought the French were en vogue and à la mode? This guy’s not even presentable. And nobody gives Papi any salad dressing.

And here’s your final GC podium. Sunglasses off, please!

Well, that’s it for Paris-Nice. Tune in next month for my exclusive blow-by-blow coverage of Paris-Roubaix! And, for my entire archive of past race reports, click here.

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