OF BICYCLES AND BROUHAHA: Formula One and the Anatomy of 2021
The track. The romanticism. The rivalry. The characters. The comebacks. The money. Why F1's 2021 season is shaping up to be its best in a long, long time.
You can tell what a race means to a driver by listening to his radio. The pre-race platitudes don’t matter -- the hedonistic bravura of drivers past is thankfully not dead, but under siege by PR minders pruning, preening and polishing their clients endlessly. A wink is now a nod, a quip a cliché and darkly wicked humour statesmanlike non-commitment. Common sense sheds all its sensibility too -- logic and rationale do dance with human emotion, but rarely are they in step.
The car whimsically waltzes past the chequered flag or it grunts and grovels, but whether the driver feels like Nureyev or Nietzsche is another matter entirely. For all the romanticism about racers being married to their cars, find me a car that sweats; find me a driver who doesn’t.
Max Verstappen’s radio at the end of the Monaco Grand Prix was telling. His engineer proudly proclaimed the Dutchman as a winner in Monaco first and a World Championship leader second, and honestly, it is quite debatable which holds the more hallowed company, the more rarefied air. Nelson Piquet infamously described the race as “riding a bicycle around your living room.” Small wonder Verstappen burst into a fit of Dutch giggles in response to his engineer.
That Monaco is the racing world’s haute monde is but a tenet. Verstappen’s victory last week, however, is more notable because of the season it has come in -- 2021 is shaping up to be one of the great years in the sport’s history.
But what makes great season? What makes a great race?
The track must be distinct. To bend and break with a uniqueness that beguiles and charms the most committed of drivers. Silverstone has its historic turns; Monza has its speed and its tifosi; Monaco has sheer gruel and glamour.
The gentle lapping of the waves against pristine million-pound yachts contrasts starkly with the violent pounding of the wheels against city streets. The sedate swish of champagne belies the frustration at being unable to overtake, more prominent in the era of increasingly wider cars. The stardust left in the wake of celebrities enhances the fervid relief at the finish line. Here, drivers shift gears in excess of 4000 times over 78 laps, stretching to see the sunlight at the end of that tunnel but simultaneously being pushed back by the G-force, which reaches a high of 3.7.
Monaco has the track and it has the aura. The most crushing of crashes can happen here. And the most famous ones.
But sport, ultimately, is all about the story. It is about human interaction, both complementary and volatile. As the narrator says of a race weekend in One by One, “During those three days, the human capacity for excellence, for ingenuity, for callousness, for vulgarity, for sheer noise, for waste, for daring, for beauty; those capacities are stretched about as far as they can go, outside of war.”
Lewis Hamilton faces his first serious challenger since Nico Rosberg triumphantly retired in 2016 and the championship title became the Brit’s personal teacup. Verstappen’s lead could be attributed as much to his own preciously maturing talent as to Mercedes’ blatant problems with handling dirty air (and their own wheels -- 43 hours to get Bottas’ off!), a fatal flaw when not in pole position, especially in Monaco. Whatever the reason, Hamilton and Verstappen are sure to take this season right down to the wire. If the recent brouhaha over mind games and talking on the track is anything to go by, the two look like two angry lovers locked in a symbiotic tango.
The supporting cast is unique in its own right too. Yuki Tsunoda hasn’t been a breath of fresh air so much as a hailstorm of Mentos-fuelled wind. That he has the talent is unquestionable; he represents the latest in a strong line of recent newcomers unafraid to take on established names on equal terms, following Lando Norris, George Russell, Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc. But he also has the character -- expletives might be inexplicably frowned upon in a sport built on taking life in all its forms to its extremes but that Tsunoda revels in them is telling. He is talented and mature as a racer but gregariously identifiable as a person. The sport needs more of him.
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Last season’s redemptive story came in Pierre Gasly’s redemption after a less-than-sterling performance at Red Bull proper. To the fans, his victory at Monza was the embodiment of rags-to-riches-to-rags-to-riches story that only Formula One can birth. Given his consistency this term, and especially given the fact that Red Bull are 2021’s standard-bearers, will Gasly continue on his path to flipping off Horner and co. from atop the podium?
Nikita Mazepin -- Mazespin -- is on the other side of the ring, hovering angrily on the ropes like the maniacal villain of a Rocky movie. Punch-ups, indecent Instagram stories and incurring the wrath of Toto Wolff is no mean feat, but perhaps he’s exactly what the sport needs too. He continues to fail upwards and provides the perfect fodder for the most gripping of stories – a summarily hated villain whose villainy you can’t help but appreciate.
What all this screams of is a giant push towards equality, and not only the racial and social kind that Lewis Hamilton in particular has been striving towards. Fans want competition, not domination. In laughing contrast to the failed European Super League, the $145 million budget cap and new regulations have spread the golden butter all over the toast that was until last year dangerously close to crumbling for good. That the Aston Martin that was controversially competitive last season has lost massive amounts of downforce is resultant of this; it has made the midfield a minefield in the best way possible. That Mercedes has had to contend with a much lower budget is perhaps reflected in their problems both on the track and in the pits.
Most romantically, Ferrari are back. It will always be a maxim that any child asked to draw a racecar will always paint it red. In Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, they have racers with the potential not to leave marks when driving in the snow. Whatever technical problems Ferrari had last year have been fixed; they have also been helped by the advantages Mercedes in particular had over them being offset by the budget cap.
One senses that 2021 is the end of an era, rather than the beginning of one. Post-Lewis Hamilton, it does not seem obvious that Max Verstappen will be the anointed heir to the nearly two decades of one-man domination over the season, from Michael, through to Sebastian Vettel and then Hamilton. Sure, an orange wave could descend upon the sport for the next 10 years, but it is equally likely that Mercedes will recruit well in George Russell and continue to challenge. Ferrari are the most romantic team in Formula One; they will be the best team again at some point. McLaren could come roaring back. In Lando Norris, they have a track mainstay for years to come and if someone can yank Daniel Ricciardo out of his own head, they have a potential champion on their hands for the here and now. Aston Martin are in a similar situation, though a bit less progressed, but will surely be fired up by a very Blofeld-esque Lawrence Stroll.
Sport of any kind is popular because the potential for domination is upheld by a base equality. And while domination might be enjoyable for the dominating, it is as gruelling as racing on bicycles in living rooms for the rest. With the mystique of the tracks, the hallowed history giving way once again to fierce, distinctive, idiosyncratic racers and a general push from stakeholders to ensure that competitiveness, that base urge that is embodied best in Formula One, remains competitive, Formula One has a lot to look forward to.