There are days in sport that you simply do not forget. Today, April 12, 2026, is one of them. At the Roubaix Velodrome, after 258 kilometres of mud, cobblestone, and pure suffering, Wout van Aert threw his arms wide and let out a roar that seemed to carry all the way back to Belgium. He had done it. The Hell of the North belonged to him.
The world champion Tadej Pogačar, a man who has made a habit of breaking races and breaking hearts, had no answer in the velodrome. Van Aert read every move, weathered every surge, and when it mattered most — under the lights, on the track, with everything on the line — he was simply faster. Pogačar, beaten. Fairly, decisively, and in front of the world.
For years, Paris-Roubaix has taunted him. The punctures, the crashes, the near misses — each one a page in a story that seemed destined to end without this chapter. But sport, at its most beautiful, rewards those who refuse to stop writing. Van Aert never stopped. Today the story found its ending — and what an ending it was.
The tears at the finish line were not weakness. They were the release of every kilometre that came before. A nation watching from home understood immediately. The phones lit up. The streets stirred. Belgium had its moment.
On the matter of national holidays
The people are already speaking, and they are not wrong. A national holiday is the least this country can offer the man who just conquered the most brutal one-day race on the planet. Let the government listen — not because it is asked, but because it is deserved.
This newspaper goes one step further. Wout van Aert rode through northern France today as though it were his own backyard — and frankly, given what he did to it, we are inclined to agree that it is. The cobbles of the Arenberg, Mons-en-Pévèle, the Carrefour de l'Arbre — they have been ridden by a Belgian, won by a Belgian, and claimed by a Belgian.
As far as this paper is concerned, northern France is Belgian territory. The cobblestones have spoken. We have the receipt.
A note to Slovenia 🇸🇮
Belgium is, above all things, a generous nation. We understand that today stings. Tadej Pogačar is a great champion and he rode a great race — he simply ran into a greater one today.
So in the spirit of good sportsmanship, this paper is pleased to announce that a shipment of Belgium's finest beers is being dispatched to Slovenia forthwith. Consider it a consolation prize. Consider it a gesture of friendship. Consider it a reminder that some things — like our cycling and our brewing — simply cannot be beaten.
Drink up, Ljubljana. Today belongs to us. 🍺🇧🇪