Mathieu van der Poel Breaks His Silence on Deep-Rooted Disrespect in the Cycling World—A Passionate Call for Integrity, Humanity, and a Culture Shift Amid Rising Tensions, Media Pressure, and the Growing Exploitation of Riders Who Are Treated Like Machines Instead of Men
In a sport where silence is often worn like armor and speaking out can mean breaking the sacred code of the peloton, Mathieu van der Poel has done what few champions of his caliber dare to do—he’s spoken up. Not about victory, not about personal glory, but about something deeper. About the soul of the sport. About the way riders are being treated. About a culture that, in his words, “is dangerously close to forgetting the human being behind the results.”
In a recent and emotionally charged interview following the spring classics campaign, van der Poel, the reigning world champion and one of cycling’s most magnetic figures, addressed what he believes is a rising tide of disrespect within the cycling industry—toward riders, toward families, and even toward the meaning of the sport itself.
This wasn’t the usual vague grievance. It was an articulate, unfiltered reflection from a man who has spent his life on two wheels, carried the weight of expectations from multiple nations, and won some of the biggest races in the world—all while watching the sport evolve into something that, at times, he no longer fully recognizes.
And it hit a nerve.
The Catalyst: Beyond the Finish Line
The timing of van der Poel’s comments was not coincidental. Coming off a historic spring season, where he added another Monument to his palmarès and wore the rainbow jersey with pride, many expected the Dutchman to bask in the glow of dominance. But behind the victories was a rider carrying unseen frustrations.
“The harder you race, the more invisible you become as a person,” van der Poel said. “You win, and suddenly people think they own you. You lose, and they turn their backs. But either way, you’re not seen. Not really.”
What pushed him to speak out wasn’t one single incident, but rather a growing pattern—anonymous online abuse, media narratives that twist vulnerability into weakness, team pressure that sometimes sidelines rider welfare, and a general culture of silence that discourages riders from being honest about their struggles.
For van der Poel, it was time to challenge that culture head-on.
A Family Legacy Built on Respect
To understand the emotional weight behind his words, one must understand where van der Poel comes from. He’s not just the son of former Tour de France stage winner Adrie van der Poel—he’s the grandson of Raymond Poulidor, the eternal second, the man who captured France’s heart with his humility and grit.
From a young age, Mathieu was taught that cycling was about more than winning. It was about honor. About suffering with dignity. About respecting your rivals, your team, and yourself.
“It used to be that being a cyclist meant being part of something sacred,” van der Poel said. “You suffered, but you suffered together. You competed, but you shook hands afterward. Now, sometimes, it feels like everything is disposable—even the riders.”
His remarks reflect a growing concern among many in the peloton: that in the rush to commercialize and globalize the sport, its moral compass has begun to wobble.
The Grind: Data, Distance, and Disconnection
Van der Poel is not opposed to progress. He’s embraced power meters, data-driven training, and the global growth of cycling. But he believes something vital has been lost in the process: empathy.
“Everyone is looking at watts per kilo. Everyone wants the next marginal gain. But nobody asks how we’re sleeping. How we’re coping. Whether we’re happy.”
He cites cases of riders being overtrained, under-rested, and pushed back into competition too quickly after injury—all in the name of team success. “We’re treated like machines. But we’re not machines. We break. We burn out. We bleed.”
What struck many observers about van der Poel’s comments was how deeply personal they were. He wasn’t speaking as a distant critic. He was speaking from inside the fire.
“There were moments, even when I was winning, that I felt empty. You finish a race, and the first thing someone says isn’t ‘How are you?’ It’s ‘Why didn’t you attack earlier?’ That kind of environment eats away at your spirit.”
The Pressure Cooker: Fans, Media, and the Myth of Perfection
Van der Poel also addressed the growing disconnect between athletes and the public—a divide widened by social media and an increasingly sensationalist press.
“I love the fans. Truly. But sometimes, the criticism becomes personal. People judge you on one race, one mistake, one facial expression. They think they know everything, and they forget that you’re a person with doubts, fears, family.”
He mentioned an incident after a tough day at a stage race, when a commentator questioned his commitment. “I had a stomach bug. I hadn’t slept. But suddenly, I was ‘not motivated.’ People forget how much we give—how much we sacrifice. And when we show vulnerability, they call it weakness.”
Van der Poel is far from the only rider feeling this way. But he may be the only one with enough stature—and courage—to say it out loud.
The Silence of the Peloton
Why don’t more riders speak up?
“Because we’re afraid,” van der Poel said bluntly. “Afraid of losing contracts. Afraid of being labeled ‘difficult.’ Afraid of being seen as soft. So we stay quiet. We smile. We post photos. We pretend.”
He added, “I’ve seen teammates cry in hotel rooms and then post something cheerful on Instagram an hour later. That’s the game. But it’s killing people.”
The mental health crisis in professional sport has become more visible in recent years, with athletes in tennis, gymnastics, and football stepping forward to share their struggles. Cycling, by contrast, remains guarded—its culture still shaped by old-school toughness and unspoken rules.
Van der Poel’s decision to break that silence could mark a turning point.
A Call for Change: Not Just Talk
The most powerful part of van der Poel’s message isn’t just that he’s speaking out—it’s that he’s calling for action.
“This isn’t about me. I’ll be fine. I have a great team, a great support system. But what about the young guys? The riders who don’t have a voice? We need to protect them.”
He’s advocating for several changes:
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More mental health resources in teams
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Mandatory rest periods in overloaded race calendars
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Media training that emphasizes humanity, not just brand-building
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A zero-tolerance policy on abuse, online and off
He also wants to see retired riders take a more active role in mentorship. “We need people who’ve lived this life to guide the next generation. Not just with training plans, but with compassion.”
The Response: Shockwaves Across the Sport
The reaction to van der Poel’s comments was immediate—and divided.
Some applauded his courage. Former pros like Philippe Gilbert and Marianne Vos publicly praised his honesty. Several WorldTour riders anonymously confirmed they had experienced similar pressures and thanked van der Poel for speaking what many felt.
Others were more skeptical. A prominent sports director dismissed the comments as “emotional fluff,” insisting that “cycling has always been hard, and always will be.”
Social media lit up with debate. Some fans accused van der Poel of being ungrateful, while others argued that his words were a much-needed wake-up call.
But even his critics acknowledged one thing: no one had ever heard van der Poel speak like this before.
The Bigger Picture: Cycling at a Crossroads
Van der Poel’s message lands at a time when cycling is undergoing massive changes. The sport is becoming more global, more commercial, more data-driven. The influx of sponsors, technology, and young talent has created unprecedented speed and spectacle—but also new forms of pressure.
At the same time, scandals involving mental health breakdowns, eating disorders, and burnout are surfacing with increasing regularity.
The question van der Poel poses is simple but profound: in our quest to build the perfect athlete, are we forgetting the human underneath?
And if so, what kind of sport are we building?
A Champion Redefining Greatness
In recent years, van der Poel has redefined what it means to be a modern cycling icon. He’s won cyclo-cross world titles, dominated spring classics, contended in mountain bike events, and thrilled fans with audacious, all-or-nothing attacks.
But his most important legacy may not come from a race at all. It may come from a moment of honesty.
“I don’t want to be remembered just for winning races,” he said. “I want to be remembered for being real. For helping make this sport better for those who come after me.”
And in that, he has already succeeded.
The Road Ahead
As the 2025 season rolls on, all eyes will remain on van der Poel—not just to see what he wins next, but to see what he inspires.
His decision to speak out has already started conversations in team buses, press rooms, and dinner tables across Europe. It may take years for cycling’s culture to shift. But someone had to light the match.
And who better than a rider who has spent his whole life turning pressure into poetry?
In a sport that so often asks its champions to suffer in silence, Mathieu van der Poel has chosen to speak. Not with bravado, but with truth.
And that may be the bravest ride of his life.
