It’s clear: Formula 1 is loud, stinks and annoying. In addition, it has fallen out of time, as the saying goes, because it shows automobiles that spit out CO2 and thus warm the climate. But Formula 1 has just set up its last camp for this year in Abu Dhabi after an already incredibly exciting season. And anyone who is even a bit interested in what makes up sport at its core cannot help but be completely out of one of the little houses that can be several hundred meters high in the emirate. Now you can guess why.
The fact that two drivers start the last race with the same number of points has only happened once in 71 years of Formula 1. In 1974, the Brazilian Emerson Fittipaldi won in a McLaren ahead of Ferrari’s Clay Regazzoni. Fittipaldi became the youngest world champion in history at the age of 26, before Fernando Alonso replaced him in this statistic in 2005, who in turn was undercut by a certain Sebastian Vettel in 2010: Vettel was 23 years and 134 days old when he snatched his first world championship trophy. Should Max Verstappen prevail over Lewis Hamilton in Abu Dhabi and crown himself for the first time in his career, he would be 24 years and 73 days old. He can’t beat Vettel in the statistics, this racing car in the history books has gone for him. Is that bad?
In sport it is always about numbers, statistics, records. In racing, this data is rampant. There is no other discipline that is as measured in the literal and figurative sense as Formula 1. This is due to the special combination of people and technology; the cars are not only monitored by engineers on the track while they are speeding across the track, they also send their telemetry data to the huge company headquarters in England. Red Bull is based in Milton Keynes, Mercedes, which is often forgotten, not in Stuttgart, but in Brackley.
If the engines are turned on at the port in Abu Dhabi at 2 p.m. German time today, then it will be about something that cannot be measured. No ruler is used to judge what really matters: the story that the sport tells. And which he, it is masterfully presented, will leave behind for the next generations.
Like back in 1958, when the Englishmen Stirling Moss and Mike Hawthorn dueled. In Porto they sped over cobblestones and tram tracks, Moss won the race, Hawthorn spun in the final phase, let his Ferrari roll against the direction of travel and came second. He should be disqualified for this. But Moss campaigns for him with the race management. Hawthorn stayed in the ranking. And at the end of the season, Hawthorn was world champion. One point ahead. “If I hadn’t done so for him, I’d be champion now,” said Moss. “But I would do that again anytime. Because it was fair.”
It is not yet clear how the duel between a 36-year-old Brit from a simple background and a 24-year-old racing driver’s son from a racing background will end on this Sunday. Nobody knows yet whether it will one day be suitable as material for a film production, like the duel between James Hunt and Niki Lauda. The Austrian, who survived the fire at the Nürburgring, got back in the car 42 days later with bleeding wounds in Monza, and then parked his racing car in the rain and fog in the finale in Fuji – because his life was more important to him than the title.
The story of 2021 can no longer be as big as 1976. It doesn’t have to either. And that Verstappen, like Moss, runs to the commissioners after the race to negotiate a few extra points for Hamilton’s eighth title, honestly: Nobody expects that.
But it would be nice if Verstappen did not float towards the finish line from his pole position like a Transrapid. At the beginning, both drivers lurk in the most sought-after parking bays. Only one breakdown resulted in them wearing different tires on their cars. The prerequisites for something timeless are there. May the bards still sing of a great season in years to come, which saw such a finale.