A broken radio, a dislocated shoulder, and a nation’s scrutiny.
The dense cluster of riders moved to the finish line in Carcassonne, an old town on a river where – as is time-honoured Tour de France tradition – it is always roughly a million degrees. Axel Laurance seemed to launch first around the final corner, followed by the suave dark figure of Julian Alaphilippe moving down the middle.
Wout van Aert was on his left side, and the three lunged for the line, arms pushing their bikes straight out in front of them. Alaphilippe, first to the line, sat up and whipped his right arm in victory, with that kind of limber joy that he tends to have when he’s won a bike race – a thing which he has done a lot of over his glittering career.
There was just one problem: he hadn’t won.
A cluster of journalists stood watching the finish at the TotalEnergies bus (it has a TV; also they have vibes) and then watched events unfold.
Two riders ahead of Alaphilippe, Tim Wellens had completed his Grand Tour grand slam, taking an emotional win for his team of perennial underdogs, UAE Team Emirates (there’s a little joke for you). Behind him, Victor Campanaerts tucked his little aero body and his big yellow aero helmet into a little bullet, speeding into second place.
Wellens, the real winner of the day.
Some of the bunch behind knew they weren’t sprinting for the win; despite being in the same finishing straight, Alaphilippe was not one of those people. At the bus where we were standing and watching, there was confusion, mostly. In quick succession, the questions began: Was that Alaphilippe? Did he think he won? Was he being sarcastic? What the hell is happening?
And so, we headed to the Tudor bus, waiting for Julian Alaphilippe to show up.
Although he’s not as prolific a winner as he once was – not since the days when he won back-to-back World Championships or spent most of a Tour de France in a yellow jersey before simultaneously breaking and healing French cycling’s hearts – he’s still a marquee attraction. This year, since leaving his longterm home of Soudal-QuickStep for second-tier Swiss team Tudor Pro Cycling, his presence on the roster was a defining factor in the team getting an invitation to the Tour de France at all. His compatriots haven’t forgotten him, even in the autumn of his career; that team bus is one of the busiest every morning at the stage starts.
Julian Alaphilippe’s topsy-turvy day got off to an innocuous start in Muret, where he zipped along the crowded line of team buses and wandering punters trailed by his team press officer on an electric scooter. I didn’t know that I’d be writing about him then, but I observed him because that’s what you do with Julian Alaphilippe; he’s an endlessly watchable man who rides with swagger even when he’s just pootling around before the start of a stage giving high fives to people.
I had other business at the Tudor team bus, and during the team briefing stood around watching a succession of team staff dispensing endless shots of espresso with the very nice espresso machine sticking out from under the bus. But mostly, in that moment, I just wanted to talk to Michael Storer (because of Reasons). When he didn’t emerge, I had to depart for a dash to Carcassonne, a carsick powernap in the back seat, and eventual arrival in a sweltering press room.
Weird day for the Frenchman. Julian Alaphilippe crashes, pops his shoulder back in, and finishes the race “blind” with no race radio 😵💫😅 #tdf2025
🎥 ASO pic.twitter.com/5MkRNqZ7T1
— Velo (@velovelovelo__) July 20, 2025
At some liminal point between those three things happening, Julian Alaphilippe got in the break (good) and then crashed (bad). On the replays you can see him sort of stumbling around for a bit before getting handed a new bike and getting back in the mix. It looked painful, as these kind of crashes do, but it was only in the aftermath – after he’d won the sprint for third – that the extent of his injuries came out.
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