“Lei è la mia storia”—”non è solo parte della mia storia.” Tadej Pogačar’s moving tribute to the dress that you wear every day…
When Tadej Pogačar crossed the finish line in Paris wearing the maillot jaune—his face smeared with fatigue and joy—it was more than just a victory. It was a moment steeped in symbolism, a page in cycling history etched with raw emotion. In a post-race interview that quickly went viral among fans, Pogačar uttered a phrase that distilled his bond with the iconic yellow jersey: “Lei è la mia storia — non è solo parte della mia storia.”
“She is my story—not just part of it.”
It was not a throwaway line, not something rehearsed or manufactured for headlines. It came from somewhere deeper. For Pogačar, the maillot jaune is not simply fabric or tradition; it is identity. A second skin. A life lived in pursuit of something both immortal and impossibly fragile.
A Symbol of Dreams
In the world of professional cycling, the yellow jersey stands above all others. It is a symbol recognized far beyond the borders of France or the boundaries of the sport. It carries with it the weight of legends—Anquetil, Merckx, Hinault, Indurain, and yes, now, Pogačar.
For the Slovenian prodigy, winning the Tour de France for the first time in 2020 at just 21 years old was not just a career-defining moment—it was a childhood dream made real. But wearing the jersey meant more than winning; it meant responsibility. It meant stepping into the lineage of the greatest.
From that moment on, Pogačar did not treat the jersey as a trophy. He treated it as a companion. A teacher. A mirror.
“Every Day, I Put It On With Purpose”
Pogačar has often spoken about the daily ritual of wearing yellow. Not just during the Tour, but what it symbolizes year-round. “Every day I put it on with purpose,” he has said. “It reminds me of what I owe to the sport, to my team, and to the people who believe in me.”
It is not just an honor—it is a burden, too. Every stage is a test of character as much as physical endurance. “You can’t hide in yellow,” he admitted once. “You’re always exposed. Every attack, every mistake, it’s all visible. But that’s what makes it beautiful.”
That exposure doesn’t break him; it sharpens him.
A Relationship, Not a Possession
Pogačar’s language when talking about the jersey is striking. He doesn’t say it. He says lei—she. He personifies it. This isn’t mere poetic flourish. For him, the jersey is alive. A relationship, not a possession.
“People think you win the yellow jersey and that’s it. You have it. You own it. But that’s not true,” he once explained. “You borrow it. You fight for the right to wear it another day. And every day you wear it, it asks more of you. It wants to see if you’re worthy.”
That perspective reveals not only humility, but reverence. It’s a love story—not romantic, but sacred. He doesn’t just wear the jersey. He honors it.
Losing It, Loving It Still
In 2022 and again in 2024, when Jonas Vingegaard bested him in Paris, Pogačar didn’t speak bitterly. Instead, he reflected on what it means to let go.
“You don’t stop loving something just because it’s not yours,” he said after his second-place finish. “It’s part of me. Even when I’m not wearing it, I carry it inside.”
The jersey, in his words, is not just a memory—it’s a motivation. It teaches him even in defeat. It makes him better.
More Than a Rider
In an age where athletes are often guarded, polished, and media-trained to blandness, Pogačar’s sincerity stands out. His words are not PR lines; they are confessions of a deep personal journey. He is not just racing for records. He is writing his story in kilometers, in breakaways, in time trials and mountain passes. And the yellow jersey is the ink.
“Lei è la mia storia.” Not an accessory. Not a milestone. A co-author in every triumph and setback.
Tadej Pogačar may win it again—or he may not. But he will never stop chasing it, not out of hunger, but out of love. Because when he looks at the maillot jaune, he doesn’t see glory. He sees himself. His beginning. His becoming. His truth.
And perhaps that’s what makes him worthy of it—not because he wears it, but because he understands what it means to wear it.
