The 200-meter final at the U.S. Track and Field Championships had the makings of a standard showdown until Noah Lyles turned the finish line into a stage. Charging past Kenny Bednarek in the final meters to win by 0.04 seconds, Lyles punctuated his comeback with a slow stare, deliberately locking eyes with Bednarek as he leaned through the tape. The photo finish froze the moment in time. But it was what came next that pulled track and field into the spotlight: a shove, a tense exchange, and a very public unraveling of a private rivalry. And according to Justin Gatlin, there’s much more brewing beneath the surface.

“Anybody that lines up with Noah… you know he’s going to go out there and do what he does,” Gatlin explained during an honest breakdown of the incident in the latest episode of Tidal League Podcast that premiered on August 5, 2025. “He’s going to talk, he gonna talk and then he gonna do his walk walk. And a part of that walk is going to be like, ‘Gotcha. See you. Peace.’ It’s me.” To Gatlin, this wasn’t out of character. He traced Lyles’ habit of showmanship back to Shanghai 2018. “Someone online said, ‘Hey, Noah, why were you leaning across the line looking, you know, towards the inside? Were you looking at the clock?’ And Noah’s response was like, ‘What do I need to look at the clock for?’” Gatlin’s point was clear—Lyles races for dominance, not time.

The final 30 meters saw Bednarek still in front—until Lyles, in his signature late-race surge, closed the gap. When Bednarek felt the stare, he didn’t take it lightly. A firm shove to Lyles’ back at the finish followed, prompting a brief verbal clash that played out even during the post-race interview. “You’ve got to realize in them situations, your emotions are going to flare up,” Gatlin said. “As soon as his emotions flared up, he kind of calmed it down ‘cause he knew that he was on television,” Gatlin emphasized that Bednarek quickly recognized the weight of his reaction and offered an apology. “Kenny was like, ‘Hey, I apologize. I didn’t mean to come out and push you, but we’ve got to talk later.’ And that’s when Noah’s like, ‘I expect my apology.’”

Still, Gatlin believes this is more than a heat-of-the-moment altercation. “There’s something deeper than what it is that we see on the track,” he said. “It went on to Erriyon as well… We’ve seen that also on TV… So you know that Noah is this kind of athlete. If you are going to give him an inch, he’s going to take a mile.” According to Gatlin, Lyles thrives on psychological warfare. The only antidote? Beat him. “The only way to stop someone like that is you’ve got to shut him up in that foot race.”

Veteran Rodney Green echoed the sentiment. “I don’t think it’s unsportsmanlike conduct. The only way you stop Noah from doing something like that is to beat him,” he said. “If you’re not going to beat him, you’re going to be watching the Noah show.” Gatlin, meanwhile, reflected on how different the response would have been in his era. “You wouldn’t see Tyson pushing me. You wouldn’t see Yohan pushing Bolt… Somebody would have been in a fight at the track regardless of the situation.”

In the aftermath of the most discussed race of the meet, one thing is certain: Lyles brings eyes, drama, and tension, whether you like it or not. And until someone consistently beats him, his show will go on. Lyles’ theatrics may divide opinion, but they undeniably inject urgency and edge into a sport often starved of mainstream attention. In contrast, Bednarek’s reaction revealed the emotional toll of repeated public one-upmanship in a discipline where pride and precision collide. And their words, too, reflected the same.

Tension lingers as Lyles and Bednarek confront post-race fallout.

For all the noise that followed Noah Lyles’ 200-meter triumph at the US Championships, the most revealing moment came not at the finish line, but in the brief, tense exchange that followed. As Lyles crossed ahead of Kenny Bednarek, the latter reacted with a firm two-handed shove, a gesture that startled the crowd but clarified something long brewing. An NBC microphone caught what came next, a sharp but restrained conversation that hinted at a history neither sprinter chose to elaborate on publicly.

“If you got a problem, I expected a call,” Bednarek said, keeping his tone cool but direct. Lyles, still catching his breath, did not flinch. “You know what, you’re right,” he replied. “Let’s talk after this.” That line, calmly delivered, did not resolve the tension, but it offered a pathway away from spectacle. Minutes later, Bednarek declined to comment further. “I’m not going to say that out here,” he told NBC. “But we got something to do and talk about. That’s all I’m going to say.”

The exchange, though brief, lent the race an added layer of meaning. Lyles’ victory came with visible strain. He admitted afterward that the championship had tested him beyond the physical. “It was a pretty difficult championship,” he said. “Coming out here when you’re not 100% and being able to say, I’ve still got to give it my all… It’s tough.” In that context, the shove, the words, and the handshake did not mark the end of anything. They marked a pause. What follows may prove more revealing than anything captured on camera.