What does it mean to be considered a ‘classic’? Timelessness, longevity, and tradition are some attributes that immediately spring to mind. In bike racing nomenclature, these qualities take shape as the races canonised by riders and fans for their rich histories and prestigious one-day format: the Classics.

And so to Paris-Roubaix, a race steeped in 130 years of history, a mythology fuelled by the continuation of its weird and wonderful rituals. A cobblestoned odyssey concluded on the rickety boards of the Vélodrome André-Pétrieux, the names of its victors etched into stone. The dust, the drama, the showers – these are traditions which remain intact. On Sunday, the Queen of the Classics flouted her reign. 

But when anything – in our case, a cycling race – boasts the lofty prestige of classic status, it automatically opens itself up to scrutiny. How does a Classic ensure its relevance in the modern era? What aspects of its fame should be upheld, and what needs to change? 

At the unusually late start of the sixth edition of Paris-Roubaix Femmes in Denain, these were the questions which took centre stage. A scheduling decision to place the men’s and women’s races on the same day for the first time since its inception in 2021 had left the media, riders, and fans scratching their heads. As a result of the clash, broadcast coverage was set to begin only once the men’s race had finished, which left only 50km (roughly 90 minutes of racing) for viewing. 

(Image credit: Getty) 

The reaction was mixed. On one hand, riders welcomed the fact that the women would share the same roaring hoards that often flock to watch Sunday’s race. But much more widely shared was angst – and anger – at the impact it would have on the event’s wider exposure for sponsors, fandom and global reach. 

In Denain, athletes were outspoken on the issue, including Marianne Vos, one of the most decorated riders in the sport who took second this year behind FDJ-United Suez’s Franziska Koch.  

“You can see it two ways. It’s nice for the spectators to watch both of the races, But Paris-Roubaix is a race where a decision can be made early, and then it will be a shame if that is not live on TV,” said the former world and Olympic champion  

Roubaix is a puzzle of 20 sectors designed to be watched from start to finish, this year more than ever. Its early phases often prove decisive, as teams launch early moves to avoid danger and secure tactical advantages, often capitalising on the narrower, treacherous road conditions before key sectors. By rerouting slightly east this year, the first four cobbled sectors followed one another in quick succession with very little tarmac between them, creating an unprecedented density of action early in the race. 

But when live cameras turned on two hours into the race to reveal a front group of favourites containing the eventual trio of Vos, Pauline Ferrand-Prévot and Koch that would enter the velodrome for a dramatic sprint finale, there was little way of knowing how that outcome had been reached. 

After the race, 2023 winner Alison Jackson (St. Michel-Preference Homme-Auber 93) described her Roubaix on Instagram: “if there was better live coverage, you would have seen me in the front group getting a flat between sector 13 and 12. Calling for my car – not going to happen, too far behind – taking a wheel from neutral service that set me back 1 minute. Day done, but I never gave up. I rode the final 90km solo. Thank you to my team, I felt everyone’s belief today.”

Shortened coverage also means that the smaller teams and domestiques, who are often active in the early phases, suffer most. If these moments aren’t visible, it means commercial value for sponsors essentially doesn’t exist.

Exposure, then, isn’t just about who is watching, but also who is seen, as Lidl-Trek’s Lauretta Hanson explained: “There are so many strong players in cycling and it is a team sport, it takes more than just your leader to win a race. Coverage allows fans to see more of those other athletes. 

“They say you can’t be it unless you see it, and not every athlete is going to be a Lotte Kopecky or Elisa Balsamo. There are so many different assets and riders.

“There’s been so much progress in women’s sport and women’s cycling recently, and a big part of that is coverage, building fans, and getting to know the personalities of the sport. It’s disappointing, but we’ll race with grit and hope for the best.” 

Lidl-Trek domestique Lauretta Hanson rode in the inaugaural edition of Paris-Roubaix Femmes, where she helped her teammate Lizzie Deignan win (Image credit: Getty) 

Movistar’s Cat Ferguson also spoke about the scheduling on a more personal level, detailing how it would impact the race experience for friends and family watching at home.  

“My grandparents always watch, and for them to switch on the TV and probably to see the group that is going into the velodrome is quite confusing, and it doesn’t tell the whole story of the race,” she said.

Her teammate, 19-year-old Carys Lloyd, commented at the finish: “Quite a bit of my family were able to travel here, but last year people watched the whole race, and were able to see a lot of the race. I think it’s just a really big shame that we weren’t able to have that this year, especially because the under 23 boys had a full live stream. That’s just ridiculous.

“I think I was excited originally when they said that we were going to be on the same day as the men, but actually, to be honest, I preferred last year for the live broadcast. I think it’s more important than us being on the same day.” 

Carys Lloyd competed in her first Roubaix last year. The British rider made headlines in March after beating Elisa Balsamo and Lorena Wiebes in a sprint to win Ronde van Brugge (Image credit: Getty)

As journalists too, it felt as if we were covering the race with our eyes closed. Scouring social media, messaging team contacts, frantically refreshing Pro Cycling Stats- gathering all the evidence we could find as we raced through the countryside of northern France to catch the men’s finish at the velodrome. 

But perhaps the most frustrating thing to come from the decision was that the racing itself became a sub-narrative. Conversations of fans and journalists eager to seek and relay stories of the riders and their prospects were forced, as is so often the case in women’s sport, to turn to a wider systemic issue.

But modifications (and the backlash that often follows) embody the ebb and flow of  Roubaix’s long history, a process which gives us the rich palimpsest that typifies the race’s fame, and which is imbibed in the very pavé over which it is ridden. Over its 123 editions, the route has constantly been adapted to save, preserve, and even resurrect cobbled roads as France has modernised. 

In other words, for a Classic of any kind to endure the test of time, it should be open to reinterpretation and evolution. The calls to action made by women in the cycling community in the wake of this weekend’s coverage – from riders, to broadcasters, to influencers – make that very clear:  watch wherever you can. Talk about the race. Engage with teams on social media. Speak up. 

Conversations of equality seek their own conclusion, but sadly, and especially in sport, there never really seems to be an end. But perhaps there is hope in the very premise of a Classic, which demands of itself the need to embrace change in order to survive.