Introduction
With Five Cents McNulty's Long-Range Cycling Win, we’re looking at how Brandon McNulty escaped in Montréal, why the riders behind struggled to organise a chase, and what kept him ahead when they nearly caught him. The place to begin is not his finishing speed. It’s the cost of catching him.
What is happening
A group of cyclists can usually travel faster than one rider alone. Riders at the front take the wind. Those tucked in behind save energy. If they rotate smoothly, they can close a gap without making any one person do all the work. But late in a race, taking a turn at the front is a risk. You might help bring an attacker back, only to be too tired to beat the riders you’ve just helped. Everyone wants the catch. Not everyone wants to pay for it.
That problem became sharper in Montréal because this was a world championship. Riders were competing for national teams, rather than the professional teams whose jerseys they normally wear. The United States had three riders in the decisive moves: McNulty, Matteo Jorgenson, and Quinn Simmons. Once McNulty got away, the other two had no reason to drive the chase on behalf of rival countries. They could respond to attacks and stay in contention without taking long turns to bring their teammate back.
That is an important distinction. Following an opponent’s acceleration can prevent that opponent from riding away alone. Leading a sustained pursuit gives the whole group a lift. Both can look like active racing from the roadside, but they serve very different interests when your teammate is out front.
The race covered 273 kilometres, with its final stages on a circuit through Montréal. Near the end, the leaders came back together in a group of roughly a dozen. Jorgenson had made a move as groups converged, and Simmons had been in an earlier selection. When those efforts were caught, McNulty attacked with about 32 or 33 kilometres remaining.
He went on a flat section
He went on a flat section, not a climb. McNulty later said the move was instinctive: other riders were more likely to expect an attack uphill. The timing mattered too. When a group has just re-formed, riders need a moment to assess who is still strong, who has a teammate up the road, and who is prepared to chase. McNulty used that uncertainty to open a gap. Once he was clear, hesitation became more costly with every kilometre.
The riders behind did not simply sit up. They had different reasons to chase, and different reasons to hold something back. Michael Matthews and Mathieu van der Poel could both value their chances in a finish if McNulty was caught. Tom Pidcock and others could attack in pursuit, but a rider who spent everything bridging across might arrive with little left for the win. Meanwhile, Jorgenson and Simmons remained dangerous. A rival who worked hard could find an American on their wheel, saving energy while McNulty stayed ahead.
Some riders in the chase said the two Americans frustrated their pursuit. That does not mean they blocked every attempt, or that McNulty’s attack was planned. Their presence changed the calculation. If you accelerate, who comes with you? If you take a long turn, who gets the easier ride? And if everyone waits for someone else, can you still catch the leader in time?
The chase showed both sides of that dilemma. At one point, McNulty had a substantial advantage. Later, the gap shrank dramatically. Pidcock said he and Giulio Ciccone came within about 12 seconds on the final Camillien-Houde climb, before the wider group caught them. Accounts differ on exactly when McNulty’s lead was at its largest, but the decisive sequence is clear. Two riders got close. The broader pursuit did not sustain that speed. McNulty remained in front.
Why it matters
It would be tempting to say those 12 seconds prove the group could have caught him if everyone had cooperated. They show it was possible to get close, not that the same pace was sustainable all the way to the line. A two-rider surge and an organised group chase are different efforts. The first can be explosive. The second requires riders with competing interests to keep sharing the work, even as the finish approaches.
Nor did team tactics make the final kilometres easy for McNulty. Alone, he had no one to shelter behind. He still had to manage the climb and hold his effort on the run to the line. He said he was close to cramping and running out of fuel, and that he did not feel sure of the win until he looked back with about 50 metres left. He finished 13 seconds ahead of Matthews, with van der Poel third.
So this was neither a simple case of a stronger rider escaping, nor a chase that never tried. McNulty attacked on unexpected terrain just as the front group regrouped. Jorgenson and Simmons made the pursuit harder to coordinate. And when the gap nearly vanished, McNulty still had enough to stay clear.
To explore those decisions further, you can generate two new Five Cents podcasts: How Cycling Teammates Protect a Breakaway and When a Chase Group Should Cooperate. And with that, you're up to speed in a few minutes.