“As an innovation, though, isn’t it great?” Wolff says archly.
There was a telling moment in series three of Drive to Survive when Horner and Wolff are walking together at the Austrian Grand Prix and the former explains that he is protesting about the new steering system of Mercedes to the FIA, the governing body.
The action has been spectacular, too, a battle between two evenly matched teams, the technical innovations of the one inciting a response from the other, a seesawing of advanced engineering. In this context, I can’t help thinking that Drive to Survive, the Netflix series, has added a new dimension with its behind-the-scenes insight into the inner lives of the protagonists. It isn’t just the story of Hamilton, but of Max Verstappen, his surly but intriguing Red Bull rival, of Toto Wolff, a precocious entrepreneur who has matured into one of sport’s most impressive leaders at Mercedes, Christian Horner, the head of Red Bull, desperate to recapture the glory years, not to mention the other rivalries that span the paddock. Narrative that is what I am talking about and what F1 today has in spades. Verstappen and Red Bull are clearly feeling the pressure at the season’s culmination. Isn’t this what captivated us about the Seb Coe v Steve Ovett rivalry, their different backgrounds and contrasting characters framing the action on the track? Isn’t it what illuminates Liverpool v Manchester United, a storyline about two communities as much as the teams that represent them? Isn’t this what we think of when we contemplate the greatest moments in Formula One, whether the era of Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost or James Hunt and Niki Lauda? It is the human factor that gets under our skin. But isn’t the drama ultimately contained in the human stories that sit behind the action? The hopes, the dreams, the rivalries, the ambitions and, in the case of Hamilton, the journey that nobody had a right to expect might culminate in the most illustrious of careers that has brought him seven world titles. It was a beautiful and revelatory moment.Īnd isn’t this what sport is ultimately about? We talk about the action, the thrills and spills, the aesthetics of what happens out on the field of play, whether it is a football pitch or a grand prix circuit.
Instead, he was the kid from the council estate in Stevenage, the youngster who had faced serial racial abuse, the boy with no money in his bank account but a father possessed of all the hope and love in the world. He was no longer the maestro surrounded by the most sophisticated engineering team in F1. Dad.Īnd for a fraction of a second, as his eyes drifted into the middle distance of that recollection, Hamilton was no longer the multimillionaire driver.
The implication was clear: on the most crucial day of this rollercoaster season, the Mercedes driver had been inspired by his first mentor. Hamilton’s electric win at Interlagos breathed new life into the title fight.