MAX’S IMPULSIVENESS, WITH HINDSIGHT

The paradox of this season is clear: we had a hard-fought, compelling championship battle within a campaign where the races themselves became increasingly predictable, one after another. If the title fight stayed alive until the very end, much of the credit goes to Max Verstappen. After the summer break, the Dutchman turned what looked like a settled scenario on its head, putting together an astonishing run: six wins and three podiums in the final nine races — a level of performance that would have seemed unthinkable just a few months earlier.

I’ve always distanced myself from the narrative of the driver who wins “in spite of” the car. That’s not how Formula 1 works. You don’t dominate by accident, not even if you’re the best. And Verstappen today is unquestionably the benchmark. But even the greatest talents, in any category, need the right context — just look at Marquez, who had to change bikes to return to the top. As early as Miami, I pointed out that Red Bull didn’t look like the disaster many were describing. I didn’t see such a dramatic gap to McLaren, especially on certain tracks and in specific conditions. That doesn’t mean the RB21 was superior in the second half of the season — but can we really call it inadequate? In qualifying especially, it proved more than competitive, and this year starting up front made an enormous difference.

Even in race pace and tire degradation, McLaren’s advantage gradually shrank, helped by an increasingly conservative Pirelli approach, with harder compounds often difficult to use effectively. At this point, the usual objection comes up: if the car was that good, why was Tsunoda always so far behind? The answer is well known. Verstappen makes the difference because he has extraordinary sensitivity and drives with extreme setups that are often undriveable for anyone else. But it must also be said that Yuki was, on several occasions, effectively used as a test platform. At Interlagos, for example, he experimented with different setups — even during the Sprint — to provide useful data for Max ahead of the race. Even without those dynamics, the comparison would likely have been one-sided; add everything else, and the gaps inevitably become significant.

So much for the technical analysis. There’s another aspect, more uncomfortable, that needs addressing. With hindsight — which always makes everything clearer — Verstappen also lost this championship due to his own responsibility. I’ve already explained why, while fully recognizing his greatness, I struggle to appreciate him completely: his excesses on track often end up tarnishing extraordinary achievements. Losing points because of a team mistake is one thing; throwing them away due to an impulsive, unnecessary act is another.

Mexico is the clearest example: the over-the-top duel with Hamilton, the attempt to force him off track, the resulting traffic, the time lost behind Bearman. All factors that ultimately cost him a virtually guaranteed second place. These aren’t normal racing mistakes or unfortunate incidents that can happen over a long season. They are impulsive choices — the kind Verstappen has always made. And it’s fair to think that those very excesses may have carried enormous weight in the title fight.

Let’s set aside the rhetoric about “pure motorsport.” Certain behaviors are seen only in that context, and even in the final weekend we had further proof, with Tsunoda and the Racing Bulls drivers clearly instructed from the pit wall to defend aggressively against Norris.

This is who Max is — take it or leave it. But with a Red Bull that recovered beyond expectations and a McLaren often questionable in its race management, those flashes of competitive anger risk, over time, becoming his greatest regret.

All of that, of course, with the benefit of hindsight.

© Simone Marchetti Cavalieri