Noah Lyles won the men’s 200-meter final at the U.S. Track and Field Championships on Sunday. But it was what happened moments after the race that set the sport’s online spaces ablaze. As Lyles surged past Kenny Bednarek in the final meters to clinch the title, he turned deliberately to make eye contact with his rival across the line. And Bednarek responded with a firm, two-handed shove to Lyles’ chest. Seconds later, the two shook hands. NBC’s cameras caught part of the exchange. And with the track and field realm abuzz, a fresh take on the matter has been presented recently. 

During the heated interaction, Bednarek, in a notably pointed tone, remarked, “If you got a problem, I expected a call.” The interaction, though brief, signaled that this tension had roots older than the race itself. And then, with the dust barely settled, the speculation began. Who owed whom a call? Why the sudden explosion on live television?

A track journalist, known for neither chasing sensationalism nor backing down from complex dynamics, decided to rewatch the race footage and offered a pointed analysis online. 

“Hello, I’ve rewatched the Kenny Bednarek & Noah Lyles footage with fresh eyes,” Lillian posted on X. “And fam, a man legit put his hands on someone because he felt a way. Even talking about Noah owing him a phone call is cheeky when he himself owes us a whole explanation about Track Spice.”

The mention of ‘Track Spice’ turned what was a heated on-track rivalry into something potentially more calculated, more layered, and far less public. Until now.

According to the journalist’s suggestion, the tension between Lyles and Bednarek may stem from more than race-day emotions. The controversy reportedly points to a now-defunct Twitter account known as Track Spice, which circulated gossip and unverified rumors about U.S. track athletes.

The account disappeared as quietly as it emerged, but not before publishing material aimed at Gabby Thomas, Noah Lyles, and Lyles’ partner, Jamaican sprinter Junelle Bromfield. Online users later alleged that Kenny Bednarek and his partner were connected to the anonymous account. Whether true or not, the damage appears to have lingered. And in Lyles’ case, perhaps never left.

With the Lausanne Diamond League meet now just days away, all three men, Lyles, Bednarek, and the season’s fastest 100m sprinter, Kishane Thompson, are set to meet again, this time in the shorter sprint. The spotlight, however, may not rest solely on the starting blocks. For many observers, the real race is now a matter of trust, accountability, and narrative control. And thanks to one journalist’s close reading of gestures, language, and digital footprints, the story behind the rivalry is no longer confined to the stopwatch.

Kenny Bednarek pulls out of Lausanne showdown with Noah Lyles

For several days, the anticipation around Lausanne carried a quiet, undeniable edge. Noah Lyles and Kenny Bednarek had both been named to the men’s 200-meter start list, a detail that gained weight not for the names alone but for their shared history.

The Diamond League calendar had, seemingly, set the stage for a continuation of the tensions that briefly spilled over at the US Championships. But then came a quiet withdrawal. On Instagram, Bednarek confirmed he would not be racing in Lausanne. His absence, unannounced by organizers until that point, was not framed with ceremony, just finality.

What remains is the lingering question of consent and control over athlete participation in elite meets. While the Diamond League routinely updates start lists to reflect last-minute changes, the early inclusion of Bednarek’s name, absent his eventual confirmation, speaks to a deeper ambiguity in how these lineups are constructed.

This is not a new issue, nor is it limited to Lausanne. Yet it becomes especially visible when high-profile rivalries, like that of Lyles and Bednarek, are quietly interrupted, not by injury or scheduling conflict, but by a discrepancy between promotion and intent.

In the days preceding his announcement, Bednarek had spoken plainly, “We’ll go fresh and we’ll see what happens. Because I’m very confident I can beat him. That’s all I can say.” Now, those words read differently—less like provocation, more like postponement.

For now, the start list changes. The narrative, however, merely pauses.