Storm at La Vuelta 2025: Michael Rasmussen shakes the cycling world by exposing the brutal truth behind Jonas Vingegaard’s Stage 10 victory smile – injuries are only the surface, depression is the lifelong scar. ‘Climbers only race for passion and for their country. When they stop racing, they receive no support, and that is…’ Rasmussen declared.
La Vuelta 2025 was supposed to be all about Jonas Vingegaard’s remarkable comeback. The Danish champion, after battling through relentless mountain stages, reclaimed the coveted red jersey on the brutal slopes of Larra-Belagua during Stage 10. Fans across the world watched as he appeared calm, smiling modestly with his teammates, a picture of resilience and triumph in the face of extraordinary pressure. But the celebrations were cut short by a voice from the past. Former rider Michael Rasmussen, a man who knows firsthand the highs and lows of professional cycling, delivered a stark and unsettling message that has ignited one of the most heated debates in recent memory.
Speaking candidly to broadcasters after witnessing Vingegaard’s victory, Rasmussen argued that the real struggles of cyclists are not the visible injuries but the hidden wounds carried long after the cheers fade. “If you race for more than ten years, there is a 25 percent chance you will break your collarbone,” Rasmussen said. “But that is nothing compared to the risk of lifelong depression that nearly every rider must face.” His words, raw and unfiltered, stunned both fans and experts, shifting the spotlight from Vingegaard’s triumph to the hidden costs of the sport.
Rasmussen’s comments did not stop there. He went on to highlight the precarious lives of climbers and domestiques who sacrifice everything for their teams and nations but receive little security in return. “Climbers only race for passion and for their country,” he continued. “When they stop racing, they receive no support, no pension, no protection. That is the brutal truth nobody wants to talk about.” With those sentences, he forced cycling’s global audience to confront a reality rarely discussed during the glamour of Grand Tours.
The reaction was immediate. Social media platforms erupted with hashtags demanding change, while fellow former professionals chimed in with their own stories of post-career struggles. Fans expressed shock that a sport as demanding as cycling, celebrated for its heroic endurance, could leave its athletes so vulnerable once their competitive days are over. Even current riders, usually reluctant to speak out, quietly admitted that Rasmussen’s words rang painfully true.
Meanwhile, Jonas Vingegaard remained the embodiment of poise at the center of the storm. His victory on Stage 10 was a testament to his mental strength and physical brilliance, yet Rasmussen’s remarks cast a long shadow over the narrative. The image of Vingegaard’s gentle smile, once a symbol of triumph, now became a reminder of the invisible weight carried by those at the pinnacle of the sport.
As the Vuelta continues, questions now hang over the cycling establishment. Can the UCI and race organizers continue to celebrate their champions while ignoring the aftereffects? Will Vingegaard’s smile come to represent not only resilience but also the unspoken struggles of an entire generation of riders? Rasmussen has ensured that the conversation will not disappear quickly. What was meant to be a celebration of victory has become a reckoning for the soul of professional cycling.
