Can Mathieu van der Poel Achieve the Elusive Grand Slam of Cycling? Father Adrie Remains Optimistic Amid Rising Course Brutality, Growing Rivalry, and Relentless Race Evolution That Continues to Test Even the Greatest Talents of a Generation
It begins with a dream—always has, always will. In cycling, that dream has a name: the Monuments. Milan–San Remo, the Tour of Flanders, Paris–Roubaix, Liège–Bastogne–Liège, and Il Lombardia. Five of the most storied, brutal, and beautiful one-day races in the sport’s history. Winning even one places a rider among legends. Winning all five? That is a rarity bordering on the mythic. Only three riders have ever achieved this feat: Rik Van Looy, Eddy Merckx, and Roger De Vlaeminck. All of them Belgian, all of them immortal.
Now, decades later, another name flirts with that echelon—Mathieu van der Poel. The Dutch superstar, with a cyclo-cross pedigree and a swashbuckling road presence, has already seized three Monuments: the Tour of Flanders, Paris–Roubaix, and most recently, Milan–San Remo. With those victories, he’s forced the cycling world to ask: Can he do the impossible? Can he complete the Grand Slam?
His father, Adrie van der Poel, has every reason to believe so. “Mathieu has the qualities,” he said recently. “But the Monuments aren’t what they used to be. Organizers keep making their races tougher. Every edition feels like a mini-Grand Tour now.”
Those words from a father and former Monument winner himself—Adrie won Liège–Bastogne–Liège in 1988—are not just paternal pride. They underscore the increasingly Herculean challenge Mathieu faces. Let’s unpack the road ahead, the legacy he’s building, the history he’s chasing, and the brutal future that may determine whether the van der Poel name etches itself into the eternal fivefold pantheon of cycling.
A Legacy Forged in Multiple Disciplines
To understand Mathieu van der Poel’s pursuit of greatness, one must first understand the context of his versatility. Rarely has cycling seen an athlete excel so dominantly across multiple formats: cyclo-cross, mountain biking, and road cycling. Each discipline demands a different skill set—technical dexterity, endurance, bike-handling mastery, raw power—and yet van der Poel has conquered all.
His cyclo-cross record is staggering: multiple World Championships and an aura of near-invincibility in the mud. In mountain biking, he has claimed World Cup victories and Olympic aspirations. On the road, his evolution has been meteoric. He doesn’t just win; he wins with panache—long-range attacks, insane descents, and fearless positioning.
When he crossed the finish line at Paris–Roubaix 2023, covered in dust and glory, he didn’t just win the Hell of the North; he shattered expectations. By then, he’d already won Milan–San Remo in 2023 and Flanders twice (2020 and 2022). Suddenly, what was once speculation became prophecy: Mathieu could go for all five.
But two remain—Liège and Lombardia. And that’s where the journey becomes epic.
The Road Ahead: Two Monuments Left, a Thousand Obstacles
Liège–Bastogne–Liège
The oldest Monument, “La Doyenne”, is a punishing, high-altitude war of attrition. Featuring more than 4,000 meters of climbing, the race doesn’t suit traditional sprinters or rouleurs. Instead, it favors climbers and puncheurs—think Pogacar, Evenepoel, and prime Valverde.
Can van der Poel win here? The terrain doesn’t suit him naturally, but his punch and descending prowess might one day align perfectly. He would need the right race scenario, perhaps an early breakaway or a surprising lack of cooperation in the final. Adrie agrees: “It’s the hardest one for him. But if the others mark each other too closely, Mathieu can take advantage.”
Crucially, Liège demands patience—something van der Poel has learned over the years but still balances with his natural instinct to attack. His 2024 spring campaign showed a wiser tactician emerging beneath the daredevil surface.
Il Lombardia
Held in October, the “Race of the Falling Leaves” is the final Monument of the year and often the most beautiful—Lake Como, winding climbs, and fading light. But don’t be fooled: it’s brutally difficult, filled with long ascents like the Madonna del Ghisallo and Civiglio.
Lombardia, like Liège, traditionally favors climbers. But here’s where the window might be slightly more open. The weather, the timing in the season, and the unpredictable nature of tired legs often level the playing field. Van der Poel’s climbing isn’t world-class, but it’s good enough if the peloton fractures or if he senses weakness.
Adrie puts it succinctly: “He’ll have to choose his year. He can’t go all-out in the spring and then still be at 100 percent in October. The calendar is too demanding now.”
Rivals and Realities: The Era of Greatness Is Also the Era of Limitations
The cruel irony of van der Poel’s quest is this: he exists in a golden age of talent. Tadej Pogacar is redefining what’s possible with each passing year. Remco Evenepoel is building toward his own Monument collection. Wout van Aert—Mathieu’s eternal rival—still hovers, dangerous and hungry.
Then there are the races themselves. Monuments today are harder than they were in Merckx’s era. Cobbles are longer, climbs are steeper, tactics are ruthlessly team-oriented, and the pace is relentless from kilometer zero. Nutrition, aerodynamics, and data science have turned every advantage into a battlefield.
“In my day,” said Adrie, “you could get away, and they’d let you go. Now, there’s always someone pulling behind. The peloton doesn’t sleep anymore.”
Mathieu must therefore fight two battles: against the course, and against the system. It’s not just about being stronger; it’s about being smarter, timing his peaks perfectly, and perhaps most importantly, staying healthy.
The Psychological Toll and the Power of Legacy
There’s another weight van der Poel carries—the weight of expectation. As the grandson of French cycling legend Raymond Poulidor, and the son of Adrie, Mathieu was born into legacy. And he has not run from it. He’s embraced it, expanded it, and—on many levels—surpassed it.
But with every win comes pressure. With every Monument added, the world leans in. When will he take Liège? Will he peak for Lombardia this year? Is this the year of the Grand Slam?
His answers remain measured. “I’m not chasing records,” he said in a 2023 interview. “I ride the races that suit me, and if something historic happens, then that’s a bonus.”
But history has a funny way of knocking louder when you least expect it. The world will remember that Merckx chased the record. That Van Looy built his calendar around the Monuments. That De Vlaeminck saw them as holy ground. If Mathieu wants that fourth and fifth Monument, at some point, he may have to pivot from accidental greatness to intentional legacy.
A Father’s Hope and the Changing Nature of the Sport
No one knows this tension better than Adrie van der Poel. Having ridden and won in an entirely different era, he sees what his son faces. “I had hard races,” he says, “but today’s races are extreme. You have to be a machine all year.”
Still, he believes. And that belief isn’t blind—it’s rooted in genetics, in training, in temperament. Adrie knows his son doesn’t just have the power; he has the will. “Mathieu surprises even me sometimes. He has something inside him. Some fire.”
And so, father and son now stand at the intersection of ambition and myth. The remaining Monuments are calling. The calendar ticks forward. And every race becomes a new piece of the puzzle.
The Verdict: Will It Happen?
Can Mathieu van der Poel win all five Monuments?
Yes.
Will he?
That depends on variables even greatness can’t always control: form, illness, weather, tactics, team strength, and sheer luck.
But if he does—if one October day he descends into Como as a victor, or climbs La Redoute with all of Belgium watching in disbelief—then the history books will need rewriting. Because Mathieu won’t just be remembered as a multi-discipline maestro. He’ll be one of the greatest to ever turn the pedals.
And somewhere, on a quiet training ride or in a post-race debrief, Adrie will smile—not just because the dream came true, but because the fire he once lit has grown into a flame bright enough to light the entire sport.
