The Unspoken Legacy of Steven Kruijswijk: Why Loyalty Still Matters in Modern Cycling
In an era where athletes hop between teams like taxis, Steven Kruijswijk’s 17-year tenure with a single cycling squad feels almost anachronistic. The Dutch climber’s recent announcement of his retirement after the 2026 Vuelta a España isn’t just a farewell to a storied career—it’s a quiet rebellion against the transactional nature of modern sports. Let me explain why this matters more than you might think.
The Vanishing Virtue of Loyalty in Professional Sports
Let’s cut to the chase: Kruijswijk’s loyalty to Visma is a relic. In cycling, where team-hopping is often a calculated career move, his decision to stay put through sponsor name changes, organizational shake-ups, and evolving team dynamics is nothing short of radical. Personally, I think we underestimate how rare this has become. Athletes today are pressured to prioritize personal gains over collective identity. But Kruijswijk chose to grow with a team rather than beyond it. What makes this fascinating is how his steadfastness mirrors the old-school ethos of European football clubs like Scirea at Juventus or Giggs at Manchester United—where identity and institution merge.
The Agony and Irony of Almost-Winning
Now, let’s dissect the paradox of Kruijswijk’s career: he’s best remembered not for victories, but for heartbreaks. That 2016 Giro crash into a snowbank? A moment so iconic it’s practically etched into the sport’s collective memory. Third place at the 2019 Tour? A podium finish that highlighted his potential while underscoring his limitations. But here’s the twist: these near-misses arguably built his legacy more than any win could. Why? Because they humanized him. In a sport obsessed with marginal gains and sterile perfection, his vulnerabilities made him relatable. This raises a deeper question: Do we value athletes more for their triumphs, or for the humanity they reveal through their struggles?
From Leader to Mentor: The Quiet Evolution of a Role Model
Kruijswijk’s shift from Grand Tour contender to super-domestique isn’t just a tactical career move—it’s a masterclass in reinvention. While many riders cling to fading ambitions, he embraced a new identity as a mentor. Visma’s decision to extend his contract for an 18th season wasn’t about his climbing legs; it was about his brain. One thing that immediately stands out is how modern cycling increasingly values “old heads” in a young rider’s world. Think of Chris Froome’s recent role with Israel-Premier Tech, or Dan Martin guiding UAE Team Emirates’ newcomers. Kruijswijk’s transition reflects a broader trend: experience isn’t expendable—it’s a strategic asset.
The Poetic Finality of Starting at Home
The 2026 Vuelta’s Monaco opener isn’t just a logistical convenience; it’s symbolic theater. Ending his career on roads near his Monaco home adds a narrative elegance that sports rarely provides. But let’s dig deeper: Why do we crave these storybook endings? Psychologically, humans are wired to seek closure—a concept psychologists call “the Zeigarnik effect,” where unfinished tasks haunt us. Kruijswijk’s final race near familiar territory satisfies our innate desire for resolution. It’s not just about the rider; it’s about how we, as fans, process endings. This isn’t mere coincidence; it’s mythmaking.
Beyond the Peloton: What Kruijswijk’s Career Reveals About Athletic Longevity
Let’s zoom out. Kruijswijk’s 17-year career challenges conventional wisdom about athletic shelf life. At 39, he’s competing in an era where 30-somethings are often labeled “veterans.” But cycling’s evolution—lighter bikes, better data, smarter training—has quietly extended careers. What many people don’t realize is that Kruijswijk’s longevity isn’t an outlier; it’s part of a pattern. Consider Wout van Aert (30) or Tadej Pogačar (25) already accumulating Grand Tour finishes. The sport’s physical demands are paradoxically creating longer, more nuanced careers. Where does this end? Maybe with 40-year-olds contending for podiums by 2030.
The Unspoken Impact: Building a Culture, Not Just a Career
Here’s the hidden implication of Kruijswijk’s journey: he didn’t just ride for Visma—he helped build its culture. From Rabobank’s collapse to Visma’s dominance, he witnessed and shaped an organization’s DNA. In my opinion, this unsung role as a cultural keystone is his most underrated contribution. Teams often underestimate how riders shape internal dynamics. Kruijswijk’s presence gave younger teammates like Jonas Vingegaard a template for professionalism that transcends training watts or diet plans. It’s the intangible stuff: resilience, humility, and the quiet grit to keep pushing when the spotlight has moved on.
Final Thoughts: Why This Retirement Feels Different
When Kruijswijk rolls down the Champs-Élysées for the last time in 2026, it’ll mark the end of an era. Not because he was the most successful rider of his generation—that trophy goes elsewhere—but because he represented something cycling needs more of: continuity in a fragmented world. His career reminds us that legacy isn’t just about palmarès; it’s about the spaces between victories. The quiet support on mountain passes. The mentorship in team hotels. The loyalty when everyone else is chasing the next big thing. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the most radical victory of all.
