"Cycling is undergoing a significant decline, and I wholeheartedly disagree with the current state of affairs," says Michael Matthews as he delivers a striking analysis of modern cycling. This isn’t just about a single race, a disappointing sprint, or even an underwhelming season; Matthews is addressing a deeper issue that he believes is fundamentally altering the dynamics of team racing, the way riders are recognized, and the overall perception of cycling for fans.
During a candid discussion on the Roadman Podcast, Matthews expressed his strong disapproval of how the sport has evolved, particularly pointing to the incentives that have been woven into the fabric of contemporary racing. He argues that these incentives are influencing behavior in ways that clash with the traditional image cycling aims to maintain.
At the heart of his concerns lies the controversial points system. "To be honest, the points are what’s really damaging cycling for me," Matthews stated. His argument goes far beyond issues like relegation battles or the pressures of fitting races into a calendar. Instead, he highlights how the definition of success within teams has changed, along with the methods by which that success is pursued.
When incentives misalign with the essence of the sport, the impact can be immense. Matthews makes a clear distinction between the effort exerted by teams and the outcomes they are achieving. He suggests that teams are not necessarily trying less hard; rather, they are being compelled to compete in a different manner. "You see numerous teams now, not only Astana, but many others, structuring their rosters so that they have as many riders as possible racing against one another. How does that foster a cohesive team environment?" he questioned.
This shift Matthews describes isn’t merely superficial; it’s significant and transformative. It turns ambition into something quantifiable—measured through accumulation rather than genuine intent. "Their aim now is to place as many riders in the top ten as possible," he explained, illustrating a new racing mentality where securing placements can be just as crucial as striving for outright victories.
For Matthews, this trend significantly hampers fans’ ability to grasp the true nature of cycling. "You're attempting to help fans understand that cycling is a team sport, yet they witness three sprinters from the same team competing against each other at the finish line," he pointed out. His stance is clear and unwavering: "In my view, this is detrimental to cycling. I completely disagree with this direction 100%."
Matthews’ critique aligns directly with the regulations imposed by the UCI, but his worries extend beyond mere governance; they touch upon the diminishing sense of shared purpose among teammates, driven by an incentive structure that increasingly champions internal rivalry.
Another alarming transformation Matthews observes is in the nature of sprinting itself. "Sprinting no longer resembles what it used to," he remarked. Instead of being a straightforward contest of raw speed, today’s sprints are heavily influenced by factors like endurance, strategic positioning, and the ability to survive through tougher, more aggressively contested stages. "To triumph in a sprint now, I must be the fittest rider remaining from a challenging group," Matthews elaborated.
Acknowledging his own limitations, he humbly admitted, "I’m not going to win a mass sprint against riders like Jasper Philipsen and others." His pathway to achieving results leans more toward endurance rather than sheer speed. Furthermore, Matthews confesses that he has begun to lose interest in traditional mass sprints. "I honestly don’t enjoy bunch sprints anymore," he said. "Without a powerful lead-out, you find yourself caught in chaos, like being in a washing machine."
Matthews believes the decline of the pure sprinter is not a coincidence. "Everyone seems to realize that being a pure sprinter is becoming increasingly rare," he noted, pointing to the growing number of versatile sprinters who thrive in a wider range of racing scenarios and the decreasing number of straightforward sprinting opportunities.
Beyond the tactical and structural changes, Matthews also touched on a psychological shift that he feels now characterizes high-level racing. Competing alongside dominant figures in the sport introduces a unique kind of pressure, one that often doesn’t manifest through aggressive attacks or bursts of speed. "He doesn’t even acknowledge my presence; he doesn’t see me as a factor," Matthews described the experience of racing against top competitors who may move decisively without even considering others as threats. "I’m not even going to look your way because I don’t perceive you as a competitor."
This hierarchy, he suggested, is established long before the race begins. Publicly shared training data from star riders such as Tadej Pogacar, Mathieu van der Poel, and Wout van Aert serves dual purposes: it acts as motivation for them while simultaneously projecting a message to rivals, signaling their superiority. "They use that to fuel their confidence, but also to demonstrate to others, ‘I’m on another level,’" Matthews explained.
Rather than being rooted in nostalgia or a resistance to progress, Matthews’ remarks reflect an adaptation to the evolving landscape of the sport. He offers insight into how the dynamics within the peloton have transformed and why succeeding today necessitates a different approach—even if that approach arises from incentives he fundamentally opposes.
His conclusion is stark and thought-provoking: modern cycling is not suffering due to a lack of effort or ambition among its competitors. Rather, it is undergoing a radical transformation shaped by the values the sport chooses to endorse and the subtle yet profound consequences of those choices.
