Milano-Sanremo, one of the best

The debate for the best Monument is always active. Now earlier than ever in the season as Strade Bianche is infiltrating the minds of many fans, as the possibility to be elevated to Monument status grows (and no, it might never happen but I wish it did).

Milano-Sanremo is unique, hence its standing amongst the giant of cycling. It's the longest race of the year, not particularly challenging in terms of terrain but because of the speed in the last part of the race, even smaller climbs like Cipressa and Poggio, would hurt anyone's legs.

A lot is being said about how boring it is until the last 20 minutes, and yes it's not thrilling like Roubaix or Flanders where anything at any point could happen. But to me, it's part of its appeal. Most of the time it's the riders who "make" a race. Liège-Bastogne-Liège or Amstel Gold or La Flèche Wallone, for instance, are not exactly edge-of-seat viewing until the very end most of the time. The excitement often depends on who's riding it and how.

Milano-Sanremo is gourmet food versus fast food. Whereas luck is the main decisive factor in the cobbled classics, at Sanremo positioning and a clear mind at the end of nearly 7 hours of racing are of the utmost importance.

Gone are the days of a long solo attack like Coppi in 1946 (he won with a 14 minutes gap to the 2nd rider) and to some extent bunch sprints seem to be on the way out too, as GC riders join the fun and push to the limit on the climb, thus shedding more and more pure sprinters.

When nothing seems to happen for 6 hours or so, I take the time to enjoy the land it passes as it goes through some of the most magnificent seaside roads on the Ligurian coast. I am biased, as I was born in Genova, just to the east of the point the peloton turns to join the coastal route.

Cycling is fascinating in all its facets, and tactics are played out all the time even without the drama of an attack. Milano-Sanremo is savoured slowly, like an opera with an all-out finale, like a Christmas meal with all the trimmings. The tension grows and the legs tire.

It's not for everyone, and it's fine. It survives the moans and criticism with the passion and the glory that come with a victory. It is also the hardest Monument to predict who will win it. In 2006 a young domestique, Pozzato, won an unlikely sprint as the rest were marking his leader, Boonen. In 2011 Goss (yes Goss) beat Cancellara and Gilbert to the line to everyone's surprise. Nibali attacked early in 2018 and was never caught, spearheading a new way of winning Sanremo that would attract more and different riders to the race. Nobody would have picked Stuyven in 2021 or Mohorič last year, and yet they left everyone behind, using strength but most of all tactical acumen.

True, everything seems to happen in the Poggio, the last climb, but that's the headline. In truth, the selection is made in the previous Capi and on the Cipressa. Legs are pushed to new limits and teammates are lost or found for the final effort.

And then of course the finale is as dramatic as you can get. Poggio at lightning speed. A few, or just one rider attacking at the very top. The breakneck descent to the sea and the last flat gasp to the line. It really is enthralling and to the fans who don't like watching it I say, okay, you'll get your Flanders, I'll have my courses and I'll wake you up for cheese and dessert.