Stage 20 | Giro d'Italia 2025
Just when you think you get pro cycling, and then you don't
I’m a neutral in this race - the guys I’ve liked and supported are not even in GC contention, and some are not even part of the race at all - but I’ve seen a bit of Simon Yates and his brother Adam Yates in the past, and there’s a lot to like about them. I’ve seen little of Isaac del Torro, plenty of Carapaz, and almost nothing of Derek Gee. It’s an odd combination of whatever races I’ve managed to follow, and whoever’s being covered in that moment is what keeps me interested.
With 38 km to go, and being in a trio at the foot of the Finestre climb with two others guys who are above you in the GC by 0:43 and 1:21, Simon Yates had nothing to lose by going for the attack, and he did, and what was bizarre was the non-response from Carapaz and IdT, who seemed to have shrugged the attack off like it was not something they needed to worry about in that moment. They seemed to have eyes (and legs) only for each other, locked in a ridiculous velo-romance on the mountains of Italy as they were, and meanwhile Yates went on to gain 15 seconds, 30 seconds, 1 minute, 1 and a half minute, within the next twenty minutes. By the time the race had roughly 25 kilometers to go, Yates had more than covered up on his GC lag, and now stood holding the virtual maglia rosa in the standings no less.
Was Yates deemed too insignificant a GC contender for IdT and Carapaz to take him seriously? Was the plan to keep an eye on Carapaz, make him do the work, and “deal with the Yates problem” later? What was THE plan is what everyone seems to be asking at this point, because this is mind-boggling even to someone as amateur in following pro-cycling as I am. I’ve tried asking this question to seasoned followers, and they’re all scratching their heads as well.
At what point, with the maglia rosa under threat, do you decide to pull no matter what, and just ride for yourself? Surely a huge, huge lesson for IdT in terms of Grand Tours, and one that’ll continue to haunt him for likely the rest of his career.
And that’s the other thing - is it wrong to feel annoyed at just . . . how quickly del Torro sorted himself out towards the end of the race? What in the world was that 10 meter sprint before crossing the finish line?! At that moment, NOTHING SHORT of him absolutely fried, bonked, hanging off the lace of his shoe would have explained his bizarre tactics up until then. But instead, he looked fresh as a flower, gave a resigned salute as he crossed the line, a wry smile here, a headshake and hug there . . . Even as a neutral (and I stress this because cycling fans get feral about their heroes I’m learning), this post-race demeanor was weird to watch. Not seeing somone on the cusp of victory go for it and close it out, and meekly hand over an advantage of 1:21 on the penultimate stage of a Grand Tour is just not what I’ve been led to believe bike racing is about. It’s wild how it’s made me rethink what I have still got to learn about bike racing, and what these unsaid, unexplained, devised-in-the-team-car, communicated-over-the-radio tactics that take place actually are.
Oh, to be a fly in the UAE-Team Emirates team car for the last 90 minutes of this stage . . .
The what-could-have-been is going to run strong on this one for poor del Torro, but he’s only got himself - and likely his team management - to blame.
PS: Thinking of getting my first tattoo ever with “In Wout we Trust.” On my right leg. Ok on my left leg too. And on both my arms. On the back too. Go on alright, on the neck as well.