Four-Square and Counting: Pogacar’s New Geometry of Victory
Tadej Pogacar has drawn his fourth yellow square on the grand blackboard of the Tour de France, levelling Chris Froome and sliding to a single chalk-stroke from the penthouse quartet—Anquetil, Merckx, Hinault, Indurain. Four, too, is the tally of bouquets plucked this July—two fewer than last year’s six, but harvested with a different hand: less the rapacious prodigy, more the cool professor.
“Cycling is a game” — opening gambit
Spring left him perfumed with cobblestone dust; July offered razor-sharp ramps and a renewed duel with Mathieu Van der Poel. In Rouen the camera caught the tableau destined for a future Pogacar museum: the world champion roaring his 100th professional victory, Van der Poel in yellow yet already beaten, Jonas Vingegaard tucked in on the left, auditioning for “best supporting actor”.
Caen, Mûr-de-Bretagne, and the early syllabus
A day later the Caen time trial respected the same grammar: Remco Evenepoel snatched the stage, but Pogacar filed Vingegaard one minute 13 behind. Ben Healy briefly rented the maillot jaune; Tadej slipped back into his rainbow jersey, punched up Mûr-de-Bretagne, and another prophetic snapshot developed—Pogacar fist aloft, Jonas a few metres in arrears, the rest of the planet further still.
A scare in Toulouse, a hammer in Hautacam
Toulouse reminded everyone that dynasties balance on a spoke: six kilometres out, Tobias Johannessen clipped Pogacar’s front wheel, and the Slovene kissed the tarmac shoulder-first. The frame—and the man—held firm. At Hautacam the next morning, the “game” turned carnivorous: an authoritarian strike 12.5 km from the summit left Vingegaard at +2'10'', Evenepoel at +3'35'', Roglic at +4'08''. The Peyragudes time-trial added seasoning—gap to Jonas: 4'07''. After that, the grand professeur closed the binder.
“Racing defensively,” “staying focused on Jonas’s wheel.”—so he explained, sounding more accountant than conquistador.
Thymen Arensman thanked the new pragmatist with two Alpine stage wins. Yet the appetite never wholly left: three ascents of rue Lepic on the Paris finale saw Pogacar lighting fuses until Wout van Aert’s late thunderbolt stole the headline. Panache, merely in recess.
Square today, pentagon tomorrow?
Eight Grand Tours, eight podiums. At 26, “Professeur Pogi” could publish a manual on how to win the Tour: mix a dash of bravery, a spoon of arithmetic, season with quotes, never forget the founding rule—« le cyclisme est un jeu ». The 2025 edition adds a chapter called Management, and the epilogue tilts north-east, toward the Flemish spring of 2026. Four-square, yes; but the compass needle is already twitching towards five.
