The Human Side

On Neilson, Wout, humility and humanity

Neilson Powless, riding for Jumbo-Visma in 2019

Humility is a quality that’s quite hard to come by in professional sports. To be at the top of your game is to employ a single-minded focus, in many cases to the exclusion of all else – it’s not conducive to a particularly outward-looking mindset, and selfishness is to be expected, and even applauded, as top athletes must hone their craft alongside sharpening their minds – believing they are the best, or are capable of success despite the odds, is part and parcel of having what it takes to get to the top. It’s hardly surprising then, that many athletes believe their own hype.

Cycling has its fair share of characters; but in an era where outside of sport, the softer side of masculinity is celebrated - by contrast with say, the lad culture of the 1990s - it’s a sport which aligns more easily than most with a more cerebral, nuanced participant. Cycling, with its inherent danger, expectation of pain and suffering, and pious lifestyle, lends itself to a more sensitive soul - despite what the likes of Lance Armstrong might have to say about it.

Step in Neilson Powless, and Wout van Aert. The two primary protagonists in the final of yesterday’s Dwars Door Vlaanderen. Former teammates, now rivals, and quite honestly, it would be hard to find two nicer guys in normal life, let alone within the sphere of elite sport. Both intelligent, thoughtful, articulate and often self-effacing, a head-to-head sprint showdown could hardly have been taken on by two more unlikely foes. Indeed, the mutual respect between the pair both in person and in their post-race interviews was plain to see. The reason they are both popular with a wide range of fans, both partisan and neutral, is precisely this – they are good humans. Good people, who show their heart, are honest and also real – unlike some, they don’t hide away behind party lines or tried and tested one-liners that are trotted out in coherence with ‘media training’ protocols. They don’t need to adhere to cliches because they have something to say that’s authentic, and this is what makes them relatable.

They both showed humility and humanity yesterday, and as a fan of both riders, a more bittersweet ending to a race would have been hard to imagine. Ever the lover of an underdog story, the moment Visma-Lease A Bike steamed away from the bunch with a single pink passenger on board their three-man yellow train, I immediately hoped Powless would win. Of course, it seemed highly unlikely, if not only from an odds-based perspective than for the sheer might of the riders he was up against. But if Wout won, this would also have been a pleasing outcome. Facing a great deal of adversity and under constant pressure from the media to deliver, despite an already impressive history in the sport, it was clear that Wout needed this win. For confidence, for his teammates, and to ease the burden of some of the pressure on his shoulders ahead of the bigger tests to come. As a fan of both riders, it was the most ambivalent of outcomes, as the unexpected nature of Powless’ victory clashed against the dashed assumption of victory, on the part of the Visma riders.

In the end, there was as much furore over Wout’s performance as there was over Powless’ remarkable achievement. Arguably more, as many derided Visma-LAB’s strategies and wondered exactly how they were able to snatch defeat so spectacularly from the jaws of almost certain victory. It was certainly a conundrum, but it somewhat undermined Powless’ success, hard fought and well-deserved as it was. Even those who lauded his victory rather than reproached Visma’s failure immediately compared the quiet American to Ian Stannard, who famously took on three QuickStep riders in their Classics pomp and won, at Omloop het Nieuwsblad in 2015. Of course, the circumstance invited the comparison, but there seemed to be very little space left, away from the madness of the race itself, for Neilson himself. For his joy, and for what it meant. Unique and discrete from any comparison, to either past glory, or present defeat. He deserved more. But ultimately, he will likely not give it a second thought. His joy is his own, to share with his family and his team, and to remember forever, regardless of any superimposed juxtapositions from fans and media.

As for Wout, the gut-wrenching contrasts of this sport were laid bare yet again, as he was forced to endure yet another agonising second place finish. A position that’s plagued him through his career, despite the fact, as I argued a couple of years back, that it proves his consistency, and underscores the reason why everyone expects so much from him. It doesn’t make it easier to bear though, for him, or for his legions of fans. The humanity he showed in his pain following his defeat was immediately followed up with pragmatism and grace, as he used his post-race interview as an opportunity to immediately take responsibility for his team’s performance. The way the man steps up and admits his fault was in his own hubris, in wanting to take the win for himself, is painfully ironic, in that just by doing so, he proves himself to be a gracious and humble leader.

His teammates were united in their support for him, while also accepting the reality of their error – for over-estimating Wout or under-estimating Neilson, it didn’t really matter – there were other ways they could have won that race. They didn’t, and here we are. Though of course, it’s right and fair to analyse the performance and discuss amongst ourselves, and read about it in the media, such a sports fans do, no amount of mud-slinging or finger-pointing is going to make it any better for anyone at this stage – the moment Wout accepted responsibility was the moment for us to step back, send a metaphorical pat on the back and look ahead to the next race. They won’t make that mistake again, should they ever find themselves in the same situation.

To this day, the tendency within certain hyper-masculine quarters of the media and within the wider sporting community is toward blame and reprimand. It’s been the way of the British media when it comes to football for a long time, and fuels resentment and antagonism both on and off the pitch. Who’s fault is it? Why did this team not win? What are they going to do about it? In Belgium too, the press hounds its top athletes, demanding nothing but the best in terms of results, and some fans deride any perceived failure, mocking and belittling athletes from the safety of their own homes, sitting behind their keyboards. The expectation that teams or individual athletes in some way owe the wider public, in some sort of tit-for-tat exchange whereby an investment of your time and energy in that athlete warrants that they turn themselves inside out to please you. And if they don’t, slagging them off in a public forum is fair game. This kind of toxic approach has been prevalent in many sporting arenas for a long, long time, and I don’t expect it will go away any time soon.

Ultimately, Wout van Aert is answerable only to himself, his family, his teammates, team management and perhaps his sponsors – the people who support and invest in him, whether with their love, their hard work, or financially. Beyond that, while you’re free to have an opinion, and absolutely to have feelings – disappointment, sadness, frustration or even anger; the full range of human emotions are all valid responses to seeing someone you are cheering for fall short of the hopes you had for them – to vent that frustration at the individuals directly is not OK. Isn’t it time we banished this kind of toxicity from sport, in a time when so much of the world is at odds, and so many things are going to shit? Sport is beautiful, and precious, and ours. We are privileged to be in a position to enjoy it, even on days when it hurts, or when we wished for a different outcome.

The outpouring of support for Wout has been really something to see, and gives me hope for a different future. The huge numbers responding to Demi Vollering’s supportive and honest Instagram post - over 23,000 so far - is testament to the fact that there is another way – the way of kindness. Of humanity. Of acknowledging that everyone makes mistakes, and of giving those who make them the space to own up to them and move on. Not to drag them down and add to the psychological burden they are already experiencing. They’re just human beings doing their best.