Gifts, Gritos, And A Breakthrough Win: An Afternoon With The Tour de France’s New And Jubilant Mexican Fanbase

BARCELONA — "Pogito! Hermano! Ya eres Mexicano!" sang the gathered dozens. Over an hour after Isaac del Toro won Stage 2 of the Tour de France, an enthusiastic knot of 40-ish tricolor-clad fans was still patiently at the barriers. Some came from Mexico, some lived in Barcelona. Most had been there sweating in the unrelenting sun since early afternoon, though what's that compared to the 36-year wait for a Mexican rider to win again at the sport's biggest race, as Raul Alcala did in 1990?

While their hero was doing TV interviews, taking the obligatory doping tests, and regaling the for-some-reason seven-person French TV desk, the fans threw a party. They sang "Cielito Lindo" and "El Rey" and chanted for Alcala as he soaked in del Toro's moment; when del Toro finally emerged, the crowd roared as the 22-year-old came over for some brief high-fives on his way back to his team bus as if he were floating. He was as exhausted as they were uplifted.

Del Toro's win isn't altogether surprising, though as Tadej Pogacar's honorary Mexicanhood hints, del Toro's biggest career triumph was not the most straightforward win. The Tour's official press communique announced "Pogacar gifts Montjuïc win to del Toro," which is both a bizarre bit of anti-marketing—don't you want people to revel in a young superstar winning the first Tour stage of his career?—and a harsh way to characterize the day's racing. As the peloton hit the bottom of the final climb, del Toro poured everything he had into the 50-second effort. Jonas Vingegaard couldn't hold his wheel. Remco Evenepoel couldn't either. Probably Pogacar could have, though del Toro blasted off so hard on his initial attack that he earned a huge gap, which Pogacar was happy to patrol. Nobody could touch del Toro, who crossed the line in joint celebration with Pogacar.

We watched the finish on a grainy stream that was minutes behind the action, which led to the uncanny experience of seeing a cluster of finishers zip by us without knowing what had happened. I first realized who'd won after I saw a group of fans in Mexico jerseys jumping up and down. All week in Barcelona, the Tour crowds have been thick with Mexican flags and El Tri kits. I spoke to fans from all across Mexico who came to Barcelona just to watch del Toro at the Tour, most of whom agreed that even if he hadn't won today, the trip would have been worth it. Getting see a young Mexican cyclist not just race the Tour but slice apart the two-time winner and current wearer of the yellow jersey is special, rare stuff, and the crowd was there to meet the moment. A couple from Mexico City said they were headed home in a few days, but might stick around if he keeps riding like this. What were their hopes, then? "I hope he takes it way too far," one said, grinning.

Every single fan I asked for a chat happily obliged, bathing in the thrill of the win, including those in the throng of the del Toro party. The most enthusiastic singers in the bunch were Ana and Miranda. They had arrived five hours before the stage finish to make sure they could stand against the barriers in pure, brutal sunlight, just for a chance to see del Toro. Miranda lives in Barcelona, but Ana traveled from Mexico City just for the Tour.

"When we saw he was two minutes behind early, we were like, Anyways it's his first Tour, it's OK, but him winning it, I mean, wow," Ana said. "I just feel proud to be Mexican." That was one of two prevailing sentiments, the other of which was of course that England were fucked; the stage finished 10 hours before the World Cup match between the two nations, which England won 3-2 and which del Toro was repeatedly asked about in his press conference.

"The noise, los gritos [the shouts], the win, the fans, it was the experience of a lifetime," Perla from Veracruz told me. "Singing with everyone, it warms your heart. It's the perfect day." Her husband linked del Toro's ride to the Mexican national team, saying, "In Mexico, we're saying ¿Y si sí?, like 'What if we can?' It's the same with Isaac." They had rented a caravan and were going to watch the entire Tour. I told them I hoped Mexico won and that I'd see them up the road, which I'm sure won't be an empty promise.

It's always a thrill when a new group of people gets to experience the high of one of their compatriots winning big at the Tour de France. Cycling has only ever faintly been the province of those from outside of Western Europe. Fans from all around the world watch the Tour, but a huge plurality of its participants come from Europe, with smaller numbers from that continent's former colonies, like Mexico.

Del Toro is not the first Mexican rider to win a stage at the Tour de France, but Mexico does not have a very long history at the sport's top level. Alcala won two Tour stages, in 1989 and 1990 respectively, and a white jersey, along with the 1992 Clasica San Sebastian. Julio Alberto Perez won three Giro stages in the early aughts. That's pretty much it. There have been a handful of riders in the lower levels, notably Luis Lemus, though precious few in the WorldTour. In 2019, EF signed promising Mexican youngster Luis Villalobos, but he popped a positive drug test and was suspended for four years. For Mexican cycling fans, del Toro's ascent to right-hand man on the world's best team is a blessing that came basically out of nowhere.

And what a right-hand man he is. Del Toro has been so strong this season that he hasn't spent much time on domestique duty in support of Pogacar, though as he showed in Stage 2, he's incredible at it. He has the Pogacar thing of never looking ruffled. The concept of style in a competitive context in cycling is a slippery one, because it matters way more how fast you ride a bike than how you ride the bike, but nobody rides as smooth as del Toro.

Which is to say that the Tour statement's framing, of Pogacar having gifted the stage, doesn't quite feel right. Del Toro wasn't a sightless joey nestled into and then thrown forth from Pogacar's kangaroo pouch. He smoked everyone on the final climb so quickly that Pogacar had nothing to gift him. Certainly, relative to Pogacar's chilling standard of ruthlessness, for him not to win any single race in which he has a chance is a departure, though most of the people he's beating aren't his teammates. Del Toro also had a botched bike change that left him briefly stranded by the roadside as an oblivious team car whizzed past him. He then had to spend the next 20 kilometers chasing back on his own, expending precious energy in the heat of the day before a nervy final city circuit.

Cycling is a team sport, one where victory is absolute, but success subjective. Pogacar's goal is to win the Tour de France. Shipping four bonus seconds to del Toro, keeping an eye on his rivals, and forestalling a true play for the yellow jersey is a smart strategic play in service of that goal, in part because it further cements his relationship with del Toro. He will need that relationship, because del Toro is here, ultimately, to suffer in service of his team leader. Facilitating a scenario where the guy making that sacrifice gets a win, instead of grinding him into paste, isn't a gift. It's more like an act of symbiosis.

One day, I hope del Toro and Pogacar will race each other, but for now they are simply the best pair of teammates in the race. That could be an alarming thing for someone desperately seeking a competitive Tour de France, but del Toro's win was such a thriller that I didn't think about that at all on Sunday.

The good vibes extended into typically vibeless corners. At the team buses, Pogacar typically cuts a dour figure, like an exhausted customer service employee no longer able to hide a rift in their soul. But on Sunday, he was going out of his way to dance with the Mexican flag, sing along in Spanish, and take selfies with the people who came to cheer his teammate on. Part of this seems born out of a sense of relief that someone on his team is receiving this level of intense adoration, impossible without equally intense pressure, and for once it's not him. This allows him to relax and simply support his teammate, who had just won the first mass-start stage he'd ever raced at the Tour de France.

Alternately, Pogacar could easily have been won over by the infectious glee of the Mexican fans and their insistence on throwing a party, just as I was. They were the only ones who truly received a gift.