Watching Formula 1 While Everything is on Fire
I’d watch any sport if the ball occasionally burst into flames
I’m not sure when, exactly, I became an eight-year-old boy that likes to watch cars go vroom vroom. It’s out of character for me to get into any sport, but lately, I’ve gotten deeply into Formula 1.
“Thank God there’s a race this weekend,” I found myself saying yesterday after a stressful week. It’s a sentence that would have made zero sense to me two years ago.
Like for many, my interest began when I started watching Drive to Survive on Netflix. At first, I turned the documentary on as something to fall asleep to, but the storylines and characters (drivers) started piquing my interest by the end of the first season. The documentary shows parts of the races but also the behind-the-scenes drama – something I live for. If someone made a documentary about the drama in the kitchen at my favorite local restaurant, I’d be all in. I want to know who’s feuding with who, who’s actually nice, who’s kind of a jerk, and so on. The main difference between that and Formula 1 is the amount of money everyone is making. Regardless: I’m invested.
Last year, my spouse and I started watching the live races after he pointed out that was a possible thing. (I assumed they only aired in, like, Europe?) I found myself rooting for certain teams (Ferrari, Mercedes) and hoping others encountered non-dangerous mechanical problems (Red Bull, Red Bull). I think I am – for the first time – a true sports fan.
I finally experienced the specific feeling of loving an unreliable team – something I could only imagine before. It hurts so good to love Ferrari with all their tactical screw-ups and inexplicable mechanical failures. I would definitely watch basketball if the ball could suddenly burst into flames at any moment, à la Carlos Sainz’s Ferrari during the Austrian Grand Prix last year. And there’s Ferrari’s likable star driver, Charles LeClerc, who looks like a member of a boy band who got lost and wandered onto the track. Apparently, there are no Lou Pearlman characters combing the streets of Monaco (where LeClerc is from), or his fate might have been very different.
I’ve successfully hooked my spouse and my sister, along with – most surprisingly – my 11-year-old niece on the sport. (Perhaps these are her boy band members?) I asked them to co-watch Drive to Survive with me when I was holed up in my guest bedroom with COVID last summer, and now they’re invested, too. We sometimes watch the races at the same time (they live one state over), and we make a little ritual out of it, like by making Formula Waffles or Formula Omelettes (not as catchy to say, but still tasty). Kindly, wisely, my niece has not used any of the many new swear words she’s learned along the way – at least not in front of us.
The Sunday races and the whole sport in general has been a surprisingly effective distraction from stress. Looking forward to a race at the end of a week means I’ve made it to the end of the week. I can reward myself by enjoying my silly little omelet and watching cars go nowhere in particular very quickly.
“When are they gonna crash?” my niece asked during last Sunday’s race (which was a smidge boring). When nothing is happening, I have to admit the races are a little like watching basketball with all the players simultaneously dribbling. But that’s when you can create your own entertainment. Last week, we tried to come up with which drivers have “little brother” energy (Yuki, who might run in your room to fart and then run back out) and which ones have “big brother” energy (Alonso, who I believe would buy you a keg).
But, really, can a race be considered boring when one of the drivers nearly mowed down a crowd of photographers (as happened last week)? Not to mention the moment in the pre-race practice where Pierre Gasly’s car caught fire, and he CONTINUED DRIVING for a while? I’d say not. But I love that my niece is out here like, They’re driving at 200 mph? Call me when it’s 300.
Although we’re pretty good at coming up with our own entertainment, I think F1 should employ a chaos coordinator to keep things spicy. Maybe give a little extra juice to the Williams cars (which are normally bringing up the rear) or tape a few legos to the wheels of the Red Bull cars. Add a sidecar and make each team fight over which of their two drivers has to ride in it. Have a foot race for the first lap.
The more drama and chaos, the better. I finally get what I didn’t understand about sports until last year: The drama, the rituals, the comradery – it’s like a pool you can dive into when you need a healthy escape. Charles, whisk me away at 200 mph. But please, don’t let the car break down.