Four weeks ago, Julian Alaphilippe flopped to the tarmac just by my feet at the top of Alpe d’Huez. The Frenchman wasn’t high up my list of people to speak to at the finish line of the penultimate stage of the Tour de France, but it soon became clear he couldn’t be ignored.

With his arms stretched out behind him, and the media swarming the new French hope Paul Seixas in front of him, Alaphilippe sat staring into the middle distance.

It was a loaded moment, and one that makes even more sense in the light of the news of his sudden retirement from the sport.

When Alaphilippe, still sitting on the tarmac, finally spoke to the media, he sounded like a man not long for this sport. “I’m not thinking about tomorrow. I’m thinking about nothing at all. All I really want is to hold my son in my arms,” he said quietly.

He suggested, repeatedly and with varying levels of ambiguity, that this would be his final Tour de France. And he went on to make a comment that was telling at the time and even more so in hindsight.

“No, no. There is no enjoyment there anymore,” he said of his experience at this year’s Tour. “It’s OK, it’s over. It’s time to stop when there is no more enjoyment.”

That last line could, of course, be taken out of context. In actual fact, Alaphilippe was referring to the interview, standing up as he very subtly declared the exchange over. But he knew what he was doing; there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he delivered the double entendre.

My gut instinct at that moment was that Alaphilippe was as good as done with cycling. But then again, I also suspected that the emotion of the moment was taking over and, in the cold light of day, when this dispiriting Tour de France was in the rearview mirror, he may well take stock and feel differently about 2027.

It wasn’t to be. Julian Alaphilippe is done. Time waits for no man, and one of the great careers of the 21st century is boxed up and packaged away.

In the 24 hours that separated the reports of Alaphilippe’s retirement and his announcement, social media had been flooded with tributes, not just from fans but from race organisers, broadcasters, and fellow riders. The news was not even confirmed at that point, but seemingly no one could hold back in pouring out their respects and admiration for a rider who captured the imagination like few others.

If there was such an overwhelming response to Alaphilippe’s exit, then it’s probably because of the way he made you feel.

Yes, there was panache, of course there was – buckets of the stuff. But it was something more than that.

Alaphilippe was pure electricity. And like lightning in a charged sky, he connected in bright, powerful flashes. In fact, I struggle to think of another rider who has connected with fans on quite the same visceral level. He didn’t so much put you on the edge of your seat as reach through the television and pull you into the race.

There are many entries on the Alaphilippe highlights reel, from the way he lit up the 2019 Tour de France with that 14-day stint in yellow, all the way down to the less favourable moments such as the Liège-Bastogne-Liège he threw away in 2020.

But for me, his second World Championship title in Leuven in 2021 was the pinnacle – his magnum opus, and the embodiment of Julian Alaphilippe.

He came into that title defence without great form or hope – and he later revealed that on some level he’d be happy to have the weight of the rainbow jersey off his shoulders. But from somewhere he summoned one of the greatest performances the Worlds has seen.

He threw caution to the wind, he attacked again and again, and he held off the chasers on a nail-biting final lap, all while pulling faces to the TV cameras and whipping up the crowds.

It was heavy metal cycling from a master showman. But this was also a conjuror at work, producing something – through instinct, inspiration, and sheer heart – that was greater than the sum of its watts. It was a sort of magic.

Sitting in his post-race press conference in Leuven, Alaphilippe made a striking comment that has always stuck with me.

“Since 2014, I’m still the same rider, and I don’t want to change anything,” he said. “I took a lot of pleasure in riding like this and for me it’s really important to keep this pleasure, because cycling is a hard sport, and I don’t want to become a robot.”

Alaphilippe turned professional in 2014 in the middle of the Team Sky era, when the British team rode with such control and precision that their riders were widely referred to as ‘Skybots’. He retires in an era where, even if panache is in safe hands with the likes of Pogačar and Van der Poel, the life of a pro cyclist is marinated in data and increasingly mapped out by artificial intelligence.

In between, Alaphilippe carved out a space where emotional energy was the guiding force, where he could fail spectacularly but win even more so, and where you never quite knew what was going to happen next.

In the end, cycling caught up with Alaphilippe, and left him behind. Not that he didn’t rage against the dying of the light. His Giro d’Italia stage win in 2024 – won via a 120-kilometre attack – was one of his most audacious exploits, and the 2025 Grand Prix de Québec was taken out with an opportunistic heist. It would prove to be his final victory.

There were no such flickers of the old Alaphilippe in 2026, and the Tour de France turned out to be a struggle and little more. At Alpe d’Huez he crossed the line arm in arm with Warren Barguil, a fellow declining Frenchman who days earlier had made headlines with his comments on cycling’s new generation. “Before, if you did 6 watts per kilo, you were good,” Barguil said. “Now, you’re a teammate.”

Alaphilippe agreed. “Yes, yes. You feel that. And I think you see it too. The speeds are crazy,” he said.

Alaphilippe had one year left on his contract, but, as ever, his heart told him something different to the numbers. Perhaps he could have squeezed another season, but he’d have been going through the motions, and that, ultimately, made no sense to him.

And so Alaphilippe acted on instinct and improvised his own retirement – on-brand to the very last.

He leaves a legacy, with 45 professional victories, six Tour de France stages, and two world titles. But above all, he’ll be remembered for the way he made you feel.

For unbeatable coverage across road, gravel and tech, subscribe to Cyclingnews. You’ll get comprehensive race coverage of La Vuelta a España, subscriber-exclusive analysis from our expert columnists, in-depth features and industry-leading tech insight. Plus, the Cyclingnews app lets you follow the action wherever you go! Join today.

Four weeks ago, Julian Alaphilippe flopped to the tarmac just by my feet at the top of Alpe d’Huez. The Frenchman wasn’t high up my list of people to speak to at the finish line of the penultimate stage of the Tour de France, but it soon became clear he couldn’t be ignored.

With his arms stretched out behind him, and the media swarming the new French hope Paul Seixas in front of him, Alaphilippe sat staring into the middle distance.

It was a loaded moment, and one that makes even more sense in the light of the news of his sudden retirement from the sport.

When Alaphilippe, still sitting on the tarmac, finally spoke to the media, he sounded like a man not long for this sport. “I’m not thinking about tomorrow. I’m thinking about nothing at all. All I really want is to hold my son in my arms,” he said quietly.

He suggested, repeatedly and with varying levels of ambiguity, that this would be his final Tour de France. And he went on to make a comment that was telling at the time and even more so in hindsight.

“No, no. There is no enjoyment there anymore,” he said of his experience at this year’s Tour. “It’s OK, it’s over. It’s time to stop when there is no more enjoyment.”

That last line could, of course, be taken out of context. In actual fact, Alaphilippe was referring to the interview, standing up as he very subtly declared the exchange over. But he knew what he was doing; there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he delivered the double entendre.

My gut instinct at that moment was that Alaphilippe was as good as done with cycling. But then again, I also suspected that the emotion of the moment was taking over and, in the cold light of day, when this dispiriting Tour de France was in the rearview mirror, he may well take stock and feel differently about 2027.

It wasn’t to be. Julian Alaphilippe is done. Time waits for no man, and one of the great careers of the 21st century is boxed up and packaged away.

In the 24 hours that separated the reports of Alaphilippe’s retirement and his announcement, social media had been flooded with tributes, not just from fans but from race organisers, broadcasters, and fellow riders. The news was not even confirmed at that point, but seemingly no one could hold back in pouring out their respects and admiration for a rider who captured the imagination like few others.

If there was such an overwhelming response to Alaphilippe’s exit, then it’s probably because of the way he made you feel.

Yes, there was panache, of course there was – buckets of the stuff. But it was something more than that.

Alaphilippe was pure electricity. And like lightning in a charged sky, he connected in bright, powerful flashes. In fact, I struggle to think of another rider who has connected with fans on quite the same visceral level. He didn’t so much put you on the edge of your seat as reach through the television and pull you into the race.

There are many entries on the Alaphilippe highlights reel, from the way he lit up the 2019 Tour de France with that 14-day stint in yellow, all the way down to the less favourable moments such as the Liège-Bastogne-Liège he threw away in 2020.

But for me, his second World Championship title in Leuven in 2021 was the pinnacle – his magnum opus, and the embodiment of Julian Alaphilippe.

He came into that title defence without great form or hope – and he later revealed that on some level he’d be happy to have the weight of the rainbow jersey off his shoulders. But from somewhere he summoned one of the greatest performances the Worlds has seen.

He threw caution to the wind, he attacked again and again, and he held off the chasers on a nail-biting final lap, all while pulling faces to the TV cameras and whipping up the crowds.

It was heavy metal cycling from a master showman. But this was also a conjuror at work, producing something – through instinct, inspiration, and sheer heart – that was greater than the sum of its watts. It was a sort of magic.

Sitting in his post-race press conference in Leuven, Alaphilippe made a striking comment that has always stuck with me.

“Since 2014, I’m still the same rider, and I don’t want to change anything,” he said. “I took a lot of pleasure in riding like this and for me it’s really important to keep this pleasure, because cycling is a hard sport, and I don’t want to become a robot.”

Alaphilippe turned professional in 2014 in the middle of the Team Sky era, when the British team rode with such control and precision that their riders were widely referred to as ‘Skybots’. He retires in an era where, even if panache is in safe hands with the likes of Pogačar and Van der Poel, the life of a pro cyclist is marinated in data and increasingly mapped out by artificial intelligence.

In between, Alaphilippe carved out a space where emotional energy was the guiding force, where he could fail spectacularly but win even more so, and where you never quite knew what was going to happen next.

In the end, cycling caught up with Alaphilippe, and left him behind. Not that he didn’t rage against the dying of the light. His Giro d’Italia stage win in 2024 – won via a 120-kilometre attack – was one of his most audacious exploits, and the 2025 Grand Prix de Québec was taken out with an opportunistic heist. It would prove to be his final victory.

There were no such flickers of the old Alaphilippe in 2026, and the Tour de France turned out to be a struggle and little more. At Alpe d’Huez he crossed the line arm in arm with Warren Barguil, a fellow declining Frenchman who days earlier had made headlines with his comments on cycling’s new generation. “Before, if you did 6 watts per kilo, you were good,” Barguil said. “Now, you’re a teammate.”

Alaphilippe agreed. “Yes, yes. You feel that. And I think you see it too. The speeds are crazy,” he said.

Alaphilippe had one year left on his contract, but, as ever, his heart told him something different to the numbers. Perhaps he could have squeezed another season, but he’d have been going through the motions, and that, ultimately, made no sense to him.

And so Alaphilippe acted on instinct and improvised his own retirement – on-brand to the very last.

He leaves a legacy, with 45 professional victories, six Tour de France stages, and two world titles. But above all, he’ll be remembered for the way he made you feel.

For unbeatable coverage across road, gravel and tech, subscribe to Cyclingnews. You’ll get comprehensive race coverage of La Vuelta a España, subscriber-exclusive analysis from our expert columnists, in-depth features and industry-leading tech insight. Plus, the Cyclingnews app lets you follow the action wherever you go! Join today.