Last Sunday, I was left feeling betrayed by the sport that I love. A sport that I started watching before I could talk and that I have now followed passionately for over a quarter of a century.
I was left questioning whether it really is a sport at all, after the latest in a worrying trend of decisions made with the focus clearly on entertainment rather than pure sporting fairness.
This is not about Lewis Hamilton vs. Max Verstappen; it is far bigger than that.
Last year I decided to leave my regular office job behind and pursue a career as a sports (specifically F1, where possible) journalist.
It has been going quite well: I own the fast-growing website on which this is posted, write for another more-established F1 publication and co-host their podcast, whilst also freelancing for Eurosport. David Croft and Damon Hill even read out a statistic I came up with during Sky F1’s broadcast at Abu Dhabi.
Nonetheless, as I lay in bed awake on Sunday and then Monday night, I was genuinely left questioning my decision. I asked myself whether I still wanted to devote my life to writing about Formula 1, when it appears to be heading in a direction which I’m not sure I can support.
Of course, I have been thrilled by the increase in popularity in recent years, which comes courtesy of an increased social media presence and Netflix’s Drive to Survive series. I love being able to talk to friends and strangers about F1, having spent decades being the only child/teenager/young adult I knew who cared about it.
Those changes have done wonders for the sport. But in arguably its biggest moment in decades, Formula 1 undermined all of that.
I was watching the race with four friends who have historically varied between a passing interest and absolutely no interest in F1, but they ended up invested as it progressed. As the chequered flag dropped, they were left somewhere between confused and disappointed.
I have waited a week to write this, to ensure I have fully processed all the events, allowed emotions to settle down, and given the F1 powers-that-be time to deal with the aftermath.
But then came the FIA statement.
“The circumstances surrounding the use of the Safety Car following the incident of driver Nicholas Latifi, and the related communications between the FIA Race Direction team and the Formula 1 teams, have notably generated significant misunderstanding and reactions from Formula 1 teams, drivers and fans…”
The bitter taste in my mouth that had slowly started to subside in the subsequent days came back with a vengeance as those in charge shifted the blame onto the entirely innocent drivers, teams and fans. In effect, Formula 1 gaslighted its own fans.
There was no misunderstanding. Every fan knows exactly what happened and why it happened.
There is, of course, no way of knowing if the instruction to do so came from someone higher up – ahead of time or as events came to pass – but Michael Masi sacrificed the integrity of the regulations to tee up one final dramatic, headline-making, Netflix moment. And, in doing so, tainted F1’s best title battle in a generation in the space of one lap.
Ironically, in his desperate attempts to provide entertainment, Masi actually denied the sport one of its greatest comeback stories.
After Verstappen’s domination in Mexico, the consensus was that it was his title to lose. After Hamilton’s disqualification from Brazilian qualifying, the title race was declared over on social media. And yet, here we were, a little over three kilometres away from history being made – a record-breaking eighth World Drivers’ Championship earned the hard way, against a fearsome competitor.
That competitor and the ensuing competition had tested F1’s rulebooks more and more frequently as the season reached its climax, and ultimately showed that sweeping changes are required.
I do not envy Michael Masi’s job. But after the final-lap debacle, he has surely lost the already-wavering respect of the teams and drivers.
As has been well pointed out, his panicked decision to restart the race in an unprecedented manner not only screwed over Hamilton, but many other drivers.
Ferrari‘s Carlos Sainz was unable to fight for a maiden win, with numerous lapped cars in between himself and the front two. McLaren‘s Daniel Ricciardo saw the points-paying positions in front of him drive off into the distance as he was stuck behind the leading pair on his redundant, fresh tyres in a situation he described as “pretty fucked up”.
Aston Martin‘s Lance Stroll was stuck slightly further back and spent the entire lap being intermittently told to push and move over for blue flags, displaying exactly why the ignored regulation exists.
Another extract from the FIA statement reads, “The FIA’s primary responsibility at any event is to ensure the safety of everyone involved and the integrity of the sport.”
Red Bull argued that “any” does not mean “all” when defending themselves in Mercedes‘ post-race protest regarding Article 48.12 of the Sporting Regulations, which states “any cars that have been lapped by the leader will be required to pass the cars on the lead lap and the safety car”.
Formula 1 clearly also took “any” not to mean “all” in the previous statement.
Masi’s radio message to Toto Wolff at the end of the race came across as spiteful and malicious. Those are adjectives that should never be mentioned in the same breath as the name of a referee in any sport.
His position, in my eyes at least, is now untenable. And ahead of next season an entirely new structure of overseeing and adjudicating races should be put in place.
The FIA can no longer continue to police itself; that is not how the rest of the world works. There must be some accountability and an independent party involved when the FIA is challenged or investigated.
Even more so than ever before, the F1 social media circle is now a cesspool of vitriol, bitterness and sadly often racism, as a divided fanbase wages war against itself.
The 2022 season should be the most exciting prospect in years, with brand new cars and a feeling that anything can happen. I had been excited about it for a long time, but now cannot seem to shift an unsettling feeling.
The simplest metaphor I can find for the feeling is that of having stayed with your partner after finding out they cheated on you.
A profound love is still there – and always will be – but you just can’t quite look at them in the same way anymore.