Tour de France: all against Pogacar!

Here it is again, that unparalleled moment, a morning after leaving the Tour de France, when our pulses drum to tear the membrane of a stethoscope, when dreams are still intact, when the horizon of possibilities still stretches infinite, like this band of light, in the distance, which never leaves the Danish night. A fleeting pleasure, to be consumed without delay, before over the couch sessions of vacationers or stolen images during working hours, everyone’s hopes and darlings are stripped under the cruel strokes of the scalpel of the race. .