If there was any lingering doubt about the seismic shift in professional cycling this last decade, look no further than Geraint Thomas’ latest podcast revelations—your one-stop shop for artisanal cycling hot takes.
The charming Welshman, winner of the illustrious 2018 Tour de France and now a retiree with questionable return logistics, recently left us pondering life’s big questions after a less-than-graceful exit from the Tour de Suisse. As luck would have it, he was part of the tactical juggernaut known as Team Sky, which, in the 2010s, set the gold standard in cycling, mainly through sheer domination and a sprinkle of controversy. Remember that?
In this week’s riveting episode of *Watts Occurring*, the only podcast that might just redefine the concept of ‘wonder’, Thomas shared his awe for none other than Tadej Pogačar. Yes, the same Pogačar who recently left Jonas Vingegaard gasping for air on the Côte de Domancy, as he clicked away those “insane” power numbers that even Thomas described as equivalent to “a small planet’s worth” of wattage.
Zac Williams/SWpix.com
Our two-time podium finisher Thomas couldn’t help but reminisce about his own glory days while standing next to Pogačar, much like a curious dog watching a cheetah run. “The world champion’s 20-minute power output would’ve slapped me silly at my 2018 Tour-winning best,” he mused. And no, that’s not a euphemism for poor training.
“I mean, some anonymous someone told me he was dishing out 7.2 watts per kilo for 20 minutes,” Thomas said like a wide-eyed child caught peeking at Santa’s workshop. “That’s like 490 watts for me. Sure, I could maintain that for six or seven minutes, maybe while daydreaming about snacks, but as far as legitimate cycling goes, that’s laughably absurd.”
ASO/Tony Esnault
Yet, the très casual air with which Pogačar dispensed his ability led Thomas to quip, “It looked effortless! Like watching an expert angler catch fish while I’m stumbling around trying to jump onto the pier.” Which of course, led to Jonas Vingegaard still trying to understand why he got dropped faster than a hipster’s vinyl record in a crowded café.
Zac Williams/SWpix.com
But let’s not ignore the 800-pound gorilla sitting in the corner—doping allegations! Thomas boldly suggested that Pogačar is soaring to unattainable heights compared to the likes of Wiggins, Thomas, and Froome, proving once again that the only thing more intoxicating than bike power levels is the conversation swirling around pharmaceuticals.
Some comments on the podcast’s Instagram were alarmingly predictable. “The standards Pogačar and Vingegaard set are so ridiculously high they make the sport hard to believe in!” one fan lamented, sounding suspiciously like your uncle at Thanksgiving discussing political correctness.
“I love cycling, but I feel a bit strange,” another chimed in, probably while sipping an artisanal craft beer. However, die-hard fans defended Pogačar, insisting his “freakish talent” emerged in his teenage years, much like a superhero origin story—but with a statistical analysis of power outputs and no capes.
Zac Williams/SWpix.com
As cycling battles on in a haze of doping debates and electrifying wattage comparisons, we can only wonder if the 2025 version of Old Man Thomas can keep up with the likes of Pogačar, assuming he’s not too busy recovering from the crash that forced him out of the Tour de Suisse. Because, you know, caution is the new cool.
In a dramatic chain of events worthy of an afternoon soap opera, Thomas left the race following what can best be described as a standard operating procedure for cyclists: a mishap revolving around poorly judged road geography. “I just hit a lip on the side of the road, really,” he confessed, as if we were in a shared support group, while fellow vet Chris Froome pouted nearby, equally marred by misfortune.
“It’s just a bit sore—like my dignity,” Thomas added, making us all question the emerging trend of self-inflicted cycling mishaps. Meanwhile, Ineos Grenadiers provided the alarming update that Thomas had intentionally bowed out as a precautionary measure. Possibly because he was avoiding the impending humiliation of desperately clinging to Pogačar’s tire tracks next month—who could blame him?
