🔥 “LET ME GIVE HIM RESPECT”: Tadej Pogačar’s Sudden Plea to Stop Comparisons with Marco Pantani Ignites Global Storm
In a moment that caught the entire cycling world off guard, Tadej Pogačar—two-time Tour de France champion and current titan of modern road racing—has made a bold, emotional plea: stop comparing him to Marco Pantani. “Let me give him respect,” Pogačar said unexpectedly during a post-race interview in Andorra, visibly moved as he addressed growing debates labeling him “the new Pantani.” His statement has not only sent shockwaves through the cycling community, but also triggered a furious generational divide that is now ripping through fans, analysts, and even professional riders.
The issue began quietly, building momentum across fan forums and sports media. With Pogačar’s recent string of dominant climbing performances—reminiscent of Pantani’s blistering ascents in the late 1990s—many began to proclaim the Slovenian as the greatest climber in history. Hashtags like #PogIsTheGOAT and “The New Pirate” trended worldwide after his jaw-dropping attack on Col du Galibier. But not everyone agreed. Many hardcore Pantani loyalists called such comparisons premature, if not blasphemous. “Pantani didn’t just climb, he floated,” wrote one Italian fan on X (formerly Twitter). “He was poetry in motion, not just watts and numbers.”
Pogačar’s public intervention came as a shock precisely because he could have easily basked in the praise. Instead, he rejected it outright. “Pantani was from a different time, with different battles. He gave us dreams, a style, and a madness we can’t replicate. I’m not him—I never will be,” he said. Those words echoed beyond the usual headlines and struck a deeper nerve: are we witnessing the beginning of a cycling identity crisis?
The response was immediate. Some applauded Pogačar’s humility, calling it the mark of a true champion. Others saw it as an unnecessary deflection—arguing that he may be trying to avoid the pressure of being labeled the best. In Italy, sports journalists debated whether Pogačar’s comments were “genuine tribute or strategic retreat.” In France, where Pantani’s legend is forever linked with iconic duels on Alpe d’Huez, newspapers ran side-by-side graphics comparing power output, climb times, and stage profiles. On talk shows and YouTube channels, experts like Sean Kelly and Alberto Contador weighed in, drawing their own lines in the sand.
But the debate has spread far beyond stats and podiums. It has sparked an unexpected generational war. Older fans rally to Pantani as a symbol of romantic, tragic heroism—an era of raw emotion and unpredictable attacks. Younger fans rally to Pogačar as the embodiment of precision, professionalism, and data-driven dominance. What began as a technical discussion about climbing ability has transformed into a full-blown cultural battle over what greatness even means in cycling today.
While the controversy rages on, what’s undeniable is that Pogačar’s emotional honesty has changed the tone of the conversation. He is no longer just a champion—he is now a voice in the myth-making process, actively shaping how we remember the past and perceive the present. And in doing so, he may have started a reckoning within the sport itself.
As millions of fans continue to argue online and experts dig through old VHS tapes and Strava files, one thing is clear: Tadej Pogačar didn’t just climb mountains—he might have just moved one.
