Formula for drama
The new Formula One season starts today. Bring. It. On.
America is one of those countries that likes to try everything else before reluctantly accepting the obvious. Granted, it’s clinging to pounds, not kilograms. Inches, not centimeters. Fahrenheit, not Celsius. Restaurants call “entrees” the main course. There’s no guaranteed maternity or annual leave. It claims the winner of the Super Bowl is the “world champion,” despite no one else playing the sport. America is a country of weird contradictions and flat-out stupidity, often stemming from nothing more than an irrational, stubborn desire to be different.
Yet I have hope! And that’s because, in the past couple of years, what’s obviously the world’s greatest show on wheels has finally cracked the US market. After some practice sessions last week a new Formula One season begins today in Bahrain, and Americans are at last paying attention. That’s good, because Formula One is a sensational sport with amazing technology, freakish athletes, a constant edge of disaster mixed with mortal danger, and enough on-track and off-paddock intrigue to drive any reality TV show (more on that in a sec).
Formula One—so-called because the regulations governing this class of motor racing are the “formula,” and “one” because it’s the premier category*—has sought to win over the American market for decades. While the sport remains firmly European, races have been held in the US throughout Formula 1’s history: the Indy 500 was part of the inaugural season in 1950; a formal US Grand Prix appeared in 1959; there have been two US world drivers’ champions; and races have been held more or less continuously, including in Austin from 2012 onwards.
But two things have changed the sport’s trajectory here. First, US group Liberty Media in 2017 bought Formula One and immediately sought to spice it up and reinvigorate its US presence, including adding races in Miami and Las Vegas. And, second, it green-lit the Netflix series Drive to Survive, which debuted in 2019 and shamelessly parlays America’s reality TV obsession to elevate Formula One’s profile.
“They faked a lot of things. They faked rivalries that don’t exist at all,” fumed reigning and three-time world champion Max Verstappen about Drive to Survive a couple of years ago, declaring he would no longer cooperate with the series. “I understand this needs to be done to boost the popularity of F1 in America. [But] I'm not one of those people for dramatic shows. I just want facts and real things that happen.”
Of course, Verstappen’s boycott didn’t last: the show must go on, whether that’s Drive to Survive or Formula One itself. This year’s season of Drive to Survive landed on Netflix last week, but Verstappen may be feeling a delicious sense of schadenfreude: despite its usual attempts to ramp up the drama, the series looks positively boring compared with the real world.
That’s because the off-track intrigue is fantastic right now. Seven-time world driver’s champion Lewis Hamilton bailed on Mercedes to join Ferrari, but not until next season. That means Ferrari heartthrob Carlos Sainz has to find a new team—but which one? Sergio Perez remains Verstappen’s Red Bull teammate, but is under pressure from Aussie Daniel Ricciardo. Two-time world champion and pantomime villain Fernando Alonso is lurking, with rumors he may take Hamilton’s Mercedes seat. Alonso’s teammate, Lance Stroll, is still driving for the team his father owns, but will his ruthless dad let his head finally overrule his heart? Oh, and Red Bull team principal Christian Horner—who’s married to Geri “Ginger Spice” Halliwell—was just cleared of allegations of inappropriate behavior toward a female colleague. Anyone pitching this stuff to Netflix would have been accused of straining credibility.
Of course, there are two things to note for those of us who’ve been fans for longer than Taylor Swift has been dating Travis Kelce. First, Formula One has been Real Housewives for Fast Cars for decades. James Hunt whacking a track marshall. Niki Lauda nearly dying and returning to the track just six weeks later, only to lose the drivers’ championship by a single point to … Hunt. Ayrton Senna’s other-wordly 1988 Monaco qualifying lap. Senna deliberately crashing into teammate Alain Prost in Japan a year later. Michael Schumacher deliberately crashing into Damon Hill to win the 1994 world title. Just three years ago, Verstappen was gifted his first world championship in hugely controversial fashion that denied Hamilton a record eighth title. And all of that is on track, so we’re not even getting into the playboy shenanigans of the drivers and the sport’s billionaire owners.
Second, at least for me, is the fact the intrigue never overshadows the astonishing nature of the sport itself. Of all the drivers on the planet, only 20 are in Formula One at any given time. All know that—despite huge advances in safety—they could be killed at any moment, piloting cars that in fewer than five seconds accelerate to 60 miles per hour and brake to a dead stop. Drivers experience G-forces equal to fighter pilots, and have necks the size of tree trunks as proof. Yet success depends primarily on teams rather than individual skill—and Formula One history is filled with amazing drivers who chose the wrong teams (sigh … Alonso) and mediocre drivers who lucked into a world title (Jacques Villeneuve?!). In fact, the constructor’s championship—awarded to the most successful team each season—is arguably more prestigious than the drivers’ title, and brings with it hundreds of millions of dollars in prize money.
So, if you’re new to Formula One, welcome. And if you’ve been watching since the days of Senna, Prost, Nigel Mansell, Nelson Piquet, and still reminisce wistfully about the distinctive tones of Murray Walker, strap yourself back in: we have 24 races taking us all the way to December.
Time to get racing.
* It’s not true that NASCAR, where chunky stock cars hurtle around oval tracks for hours, is “Formula Boring.” At least, that’s not its official name.
A note about whatever this is …
After writing a few thousand articles for newspapers and magazines, I spent a long time trying a bunch of other stuff. I guess I figured what came (relatively) easily must by definition be less valuable, so I wandered in the corporate wilderness, becoming increasingly frustrated and doing work that felt increasingly lousy.
Sometimes with age comes wisdom, and I’ve realized finding something (relatively) easy ain’t a bad thing. So, this is a space where I’m resurrecting writing for myself, on topics weird and wild and wonderful.
Posts will appear when the mood takes me, but I do try to be consistently inconsistent—sometimes it’ll be a couple of days between drinks; sometimes a week. But if you subscribe, you’ll get a email letting you know I’m ranting. Again.