The dawn woke early, as Miguel Hernández wrote. The King woke early. Tadej Pogacar, the first leader (and last?) of the race, woke early. The Vuelta woke early to greet its master and lord. To say that the race has ended before it really started is premature. But what can one think from the moment that an appetizer in the form of a 94 km prologue already crowns the top, the only favorite?
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Tadej beat the British Ethan Hayter (Soudal) by just nine hundredths of a second!, like in a 100-meter athletics race. Only the two of them, with the same minutes and seconds (10:57), went under 11 minutes. Joshua Tarling, in an almost successful tribute to his brother Finley, who died in the Vuelta a Portugal, was left just outside (11:01).
Pogacar is already wearing red. He will probably give up the jersey for a couple of days, until the Andorra stage on Tuesday, which is already offered to him today, because it is unthinkable that anyone else could win it unless Pogi allows it. The tiny, opulent, crowded, vertical, and elitist Monaco bowed before one of its most illustrious neighbors. In the streets of the Principality, practically on the same Formula 1 circuit, so well known for its most representative points, Pogacar put a difference between himself and the others that was more psychological than chronological, because in such a short distance it is not possible to gain a big time gap. But, in relative and equivalent terms, it is as if he had. We can mention Primoz Roglic (24th at 22″). Matthias Skjelmose (7″ more than Roglic). Enric Mas, quite in form, (11:30). Sepp Kuss (11:42). Felix Gall (11:43). Richard Carapaz, the main victim (52nd at 33″). Among the other Spaniards, Iván Romeo recorded 11:15. Carlos Rodríguez was 34th at 27″.
It is the same difference as sailing or motoring. The silky murmur of the bicycles replaced the rough roar of the engines on a winding, serpentine, narrow, technical, uncomfortable route where it was impossible to maintain the pace for long. One had to adapt and take risks. Pogacar did so, probably unnecessarily, because there is plenty of terrain ahead, please, 20 stages remain. But his insatiability, a result of supreme respect for his craft, prevents him from sparing effort if there is a victory ahead. This is the 128th of his career, the twentieth of the year.
The race stays in France for the next two days and, after Andorra, the fourth day, it will enter Spain, which will receive Pogacar with the admiration he deserves. They will not part ways until Granada, where anything is possible. But it seems impossible that Pogacar will not light up the Alhambra with the red fire of a race that has been waiting too long for him since his first appearance. A Spain, a Vuelta that is already paying tribute to him, while, in reciprocity, receiving the tribute of the rider. Both have begun to mutually enhance each other, to love each other again since they met. Now we can call it love with all the letters.
