Humiliated by Yates. Many of us are. I put myself in the front row, because in life you must admit your blunders. Mine, which I fully confess, is never considering Yates a reliable Giro favorite. I must say he never did much to get noticed, but that matters little. The truth is simple: after so much boredom in a forgettable third week, Yates and Visma sign the 2025 Giro with an absolute masterpiece. Forward Van Aert, Yates attacks like a god on the Colle delle Finestre, where he had left the 2018 Giro due to Froome, then Van Aert waits for his captain towards Sestriere and victory is packaged.

Once again, an ancient theorem is confirmed: boy, never waste anything, prepare a blow, just one blow, but make it a knockout. Yates, new guru of Grand Tours, signed and sealed. And there's nothing more to add.

Only one "however" remains open. However, certain moves work better when opponents approach the decisive stage in a grotesque way, ending in farce. Without naming names, certain moves work better if the inexperienced Del Toro and the experienced Carapaz race in the same way, competing in masochism. Dropped on the Finestre, the two could at least organize a furious back-and-forth in the final part. Instead. Like in a Ciccio and Franco movie, they begin to argue dramatically to the point of an absurd half-standstill, then you pull or you don't pull, no I won't pull, you lose the Giro, you lose face, you go ahead because I'm about to laugh. It's an indecent spectacle, that doesn't make a show at all. Or maybe yes, it makes Circus Orfei, with clowns slapping each other and making the audience laugh. Great figure.

Better, much better to draw a merciful veil over the defeated, more than anything over the manner, and shine due spotlights on those who made the high-class circle look ridiculous. To me, this Van Aert-Yates story immediately recalls the 2016 Giro, when the masterpiece was signed by another beloved couple, Scarponi-Nibali, in that case to the detriment of Kruijswijk, who moreover made no one laugh because he crashed against the ice wall. Here Van Aert waits to launch Yates, then a valiant Scarponi waited to launch Nibali. Different roads, but an identical common thread: to win you need many legs, many materials, many diets, many physiotherapies, many watts, but above all you need a guaranteed dose of brain. Valid in the Giro, valid in all life races. End of story.

Beyond this unassailable moral, beyond the clownish farce of the defeated, beyond the deflagration that shatters UAE, beyond the ash on us commentators' heads, what remains: with a cold mind, remains a not exactly young winner (in two months, 33 years old), who only appeared on the last climb, who never won a stage, but who dominated the battle of neurons. And when intelligence wins over stupidity, it must be a celebration anyway.