2025 F1 Recap: All 23 races heading to Abu Dhabi blockbuster finale
F1 NewsWednesday, 03 December 2025 at 13:39
It has been a marathon Formula 1 season. We are now heading to the 24th and final race of the 2025 FIA Formula 1 World Championship for a blockbuster finale at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.
But before we tuck into the glittering Yas Marina Circuit, it is worth looking back on an incredible season in which Max Verstappen enchanted anyone with racing in their blood by simply never giving up. McLaren can call him Chucky as he threatens to spoil their party on Sunday night.
In fact, Verstappen has spoiled the party many times, as Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri, with by far the best car on the grid in the MCL39, so much so that either of the McLaren boys might've wrapped up the Drivers' title long ago. As they did the 2025 F1 Costructors' title. Applause for that! But the big one still eludes them since Lewis Hamilton did the business for the Woking outfit back in 2008.
Instead, McLaren is being made to sweat it out, as the best driver on the grid stalks them relentlessly, they have dropped to ball massively. First, Norris was outclassed by Piastri, who took a healthy lead into the summer break. But then he self-imploded in Baku, only to recover his old self and deliver Oscar-winning style in Qatar.
Title Decider: Norris, Piastri or Verstappen to be Champ?
Norris, meanwhile, found a head of steam, romped into the lead with dominant wins in Mexico and Sao Paulo, only for it all to go pear-shaped for McLaren with their embarrassing double DQ in Las Vegas. Their cause not helped by the confusion of Papaya Rules that triggered some very strange decision-making from the McLaren pitwall, on several occasions during the season.
If you don't recall them, then the synopsis below of 23 Rounds run so far will serve you well as we head to the climax to what is sure to be up there with the great Formula 1 seasons of our sport.
The trio of 2025 F1 World Champion contenders line up for the final shootout this coming weekend in Abu Dhabi. Norris remains favourite on 408 points, but only just. Verstappen is 12 points adrift on 396 with Piastri on 392. This is the journey of how they got there:
Round 1. Australian Grand Prix
Melbourne set the tone. McLaren turned up with the MCL39 and basically told the paddock: this is our championship to lose. Four tenths clear in quali, in the wet, in the chaos, and it was Norris who planted the flag. He did the bit people still doubt him on. Mental resilience. In a race that screamed “bottle job incoming”, he did not bottle it. He won it.
Piastri, at home, was ragged. The spin, the recovery, the scrappy P9. It was the first reminder that raw speed is not enough against a Verstappen who refuses to die and a teammate who finally looks like a complete driver.
Verstappen, for his part, dragged that horrible RB21 as far as it would go, then watched it eat its tyres and his afternoon. Red Bull looked like a team that has forgotten how to build a friendly car. Lawson’s debut imploded and exposed exactly that.
And Ferrari. Hamilton’s big red debut was a mess. Leclerc banging wheels with him, radio chaos, procedures all over the place. The rookies flashed, Antonelli in particular, but this was McLaren’s weekend. The message from Albert Park was simple: the title goes through papaya.
P1. Lando Norris; P2. Max Verstappen & P3. George Russell.
Round 2. Chinese Grand Prix
Shanghai was proof that McLaren have built a monster and do not quite know what to do with it. New surface, useless data, tyres pumped to the moon, and still they walked it. Piastri took pole, bossed the Sprint, then turned the Grand Prix into a training run. It was his statement drive of the early season.
Norris had one of those messy weekends. Errors, recovery, still P2. On paper a perfect 1 2. In reality, the alarm bell for Zak and Stella. Two title contenders in the same garage, and a decision that cannot be dodged much longer.
Ferrari somehow managed to win the Sprint with Hamilton, then collapse in the race. Wrong setups, clumsy race execution, and to top it all they got thrown out of the Grand Prix. Underweight, excessive plank wear. Amateur hour stuff for a team that pretends it has fixed the basics.
Verstappen, P4, stayed calm in a car that keeps betraying him. Lawson looked miles away at the back. Red Bull look like a team stuck between fixing 2025 and panicking about 2026. Mercedes and Antonelli, by contrast, quietly banked a clean, grown-up weekend. Haas stole double points while everyone else tripped over the rulebook.
P1. Oscar Piastri; P2. Lando Norris & P3. George Russell.
Round 3. Japanese Grand Prix
Suzuka should have belonged to McLaren. The best car, the perfect track, two drivers who adore the place. Instead, Verstappen turned it into a one man clinic. He nicked pole by 0.012 from Norris in a car that was, at best, fourth quickest over the lap. Then he led every single lap. No drama, no mistakes, no air left in the room.
This was peak Verstappen. The kind of weekend that has people dragging out Senna comparisons, not because of romance but because you run out of normal language. Red Bull is a one car team now and the entire operation hangs off number 1. He carries the deficit, the politics, the bad balance, and still does this.
McLaren bottled it. Small errors in quali, bad strategic choices in the race. Pitting Norris when they could have tried something, refusing to use Piastri aggressively, then watching Norris end up doing lawn work in the pitlane while moaning about being pushed. It was all a bit weak for a team that wants to end a Verstappen dynasty.
Ferrari barely existed. The rookies made Q3 and reminded us the next generation is already here. Doohan’s huge shunt underlined again that simulator mileage is no substitute for grip, light fuel and cold tyres in the real world.
P1. Max Verstappen; P2. Lando Norris & P3. Oscar Piastri.
Round 4. Bahrain Grand Prix
Bahrain was where Piastri stopped being “Norris’s teammate” and became a fully armed title problem. Pole, race win, the lot. On a tyre-shredding Sakhir surface, when Red Bull misread the compounds, he looked like he had been doing this for a decade. No drama on the radio, no fluster, just clean laps and ruthless tyre brain.
Norris, by contrast, cracked. False start, penalty, scruffy race. Yes, he still took P3, but on a night when McLaren’s car was on rails he made it harder than it had to be. The pressure of being the favourite is a different beast from being the underdog in papaya.
Russell reminded everyone why Mercedes handed him the keys. With steering issues, transponder gremlins, and a car that still does not know what it wants to be, he managed the race like a veteran and stole P2 on Softs late on.
Red Bull looked lost. Verstappen’s P6, after pit stop fumbles and tyre confusion, was not the number, it was the look. A reigning champion suddenly talking future, exits and contracts while the team haemorrhages people.
Ferrari again misplayed the tyre game, sticking their drivers on Hards while everyone else knew better. You could almost feel Hamilton’s patience thinning on team radio.
P1. Oscar Piastri; P2. George Russell & P3. Lando Norris.
Round 5. Saudi Arabian Grand Prix
Jeddah was where Piastri officially became Verstappen’s new problem. The Red Bull ace threw his usual first corner grenade from pole, ran off, got pinged, and still you expected him to crush them. Piastri simply refused to read that script.
Once the penalty shook out, Piastri did what Norris could not do all of 2024. He absorbed Verstappen pressure and did not flinch. No easy pass, no wobble, no “it is Max, what could I do.” Just cold defence and a race controlled from the front.
Norris hit the walls in quali, got tangled in other people’s mess, and then spent the race staring at Hamilton’s Ferrari rear wing, unable to work out how to pass him properly. The contrast to his teammate leading from the front was brutal.
Ferrari were a picture of contrast too. Leclerc hustled himself to P3 and a podium, Hamilton drifted to P7 and questions about whether Ferrari culture and Hamilton work ethic are on the same planet.
Red Bull’s decision not to hand back track position for Verstappen after the penalty told you everything. They are desperate for clean air, they know their car hates dirty air, and they are clinging to their guy’s racecraft. The #1 RB21 finished P2.
P1. Oscar Piastri; P2. Max Verstappen & P3. Charles Leclerc.
Round 6. Miami Grand Prix
Miami was McLaren flexing while the rest of the paddock melted in the Florida sun. Piastri took his third win in a row, Norris backed him up, and suddenly we were talking about a papaya run not seen since the Hakkinen days.
Norris grabbed the Sprint win, looked the faster McLaren all Friday, then got tangled with Verstappen at Turn 1 in the Grand Prix and spent the afternoon fighting his way out of the hole. Piastri did what title winners do. He kept his nose clean, passed Verstappen when it mattered, and built a gap that killed the race.
Antonelli announced himself with Sprint pole and a feisty scrap, but his inexperience showed against a driver already in full title mode. Russell lived on good fortune and Virtual Safety Car timing to nick P3, but that is part of the game.
Red Bull’s weekend summed up this season. Pit stop clown show in the Sprint, penalty, then a solid but unspectacular main race. Verstappen drove like Verstappen, but the car and the operation are not at his level.
Ferrari continued their masterclass in self-sabotage. Wrong tyres, confused team orders, Hamilton and Leclerc stuck in a grumpy P7 and P8 train. Williams nipping at them just added insult.
P1. Oscar Piastri; P2. Lando Norris & P3. George Russell.
Round 7. Emilia Romagna Grand Prix
Imola was the punch back. Verstappen had been rocked by three straight Piastri wins since Suzuka and came to Ferrari’s backyard looking like a guy who had had enough. He did not just win. He took control of the narrative again.
The move on Piastri at the start was classic Verstappen. Full fuel, cold tyres, narrow margins, and he still braked later, parked the car where Oscar did not dare, and walked away. Once he hit clean air, the race felt inevitable. The RB21 finally had upgrades that worked and Max treated the rest of the field like traffic.
McLaren should have owned Imola. They had the pace, the front row, the tyre life. Instead, Piastri defended like it was a club race, then boxed early, then ignored the logic of swapping with Norris under Safety Car. They handed Verstappen the race and took a bitter 2 3 instead of the win.
Ferrari did not even show up in qualifying. Hamilton dragged himself to P4 on a day the car looked midfield. Leclerc, on home soil, could do no better than P6. The rookie fairy tale broke for Antonelli, who had a horror home weekend and a car failure to close it.
P1. Max Verstappen; P2. Lando Norris & P3. Oscar Piastri.
Round 8. Monaco Grand Prix
Monaco reminded us that you can throw any gimmick you like at this place and the cars are still too fat. Mandatory two-stop rule, softer tyres, all of it. Still a procession. You need a five-second delta to pass and nobody has that without a meltdown ahead.
So it came down to one thing. Qualifying. Norris nailed it. Under huge pressure, with Leclerc looking like the prince of the place all through practice, he delivered the lap that counted. From there, it was about not blinking. He almost lost it with that lock-up at the start, but he held it. That was a big boy win.
Piastri never looked fully at ease. From P3, he drifted into nowhere, trapped in the strategic mess the two-stop rule created. Leclerc at least got a podium, which in Monaco is half a win for a Ferrari driver.
Red Bull tried a Hail Mary on Verstappen’s second stop and got nothing. You cannot undercut physics. He finished P4.
The madness came elsewhere. Russell lost his head with Albon, cut the chicane, took a drive through and still refused to yield. Typical George, always ready to litigate on the radio. Alonso’s car let him down, Lawson finally scored points with help from Hadjar, and Mercedes spent the weekend crashing or breaking.
The biggest lesson was obvious. Shrink the cars or accept that Monaco is now just a Saturday show.
P1. Lando Norris; P2. Charles Leclerc & P3. Oscar Pistri
Round 9. Spanish Grand Prix
Barcelona is the truth machine. It tells you who really has the best car. This year, that car is painted papaya. Even with the front wing clampdown, McLaren’s MCL39 was on another level. Locked out front row, Verstappen staring at them from behind, and an air of inevitability.
The race drifted until Antonelli’s smoky Mercedes brought out the Safety Car and everyone got a free roll of the dice. Red Bull chose chaos. A three stop chase, then bolting Hard tyres on Verstappen when nobody else wanted to touch that compound. It blew up in their face.
Verstappen did what he could, fought Leclerc, then ended up bumping Russell after being told to hand a place back. It was messy, emotional driving from a guy who is clearly fed up with the strategic circus on his own pit wall since key people walked out. The penalty and P10 was justice and a symptom.
Leclerc’s shove on Max at high speed and the FIA calling it “minor collision” was a joke. We have seen less get harsh penalties.
Alonso rolled back the years with some real overtakes, Hulkenberg dragged a Sauber to P5, Hamilton got mugged, Tsunoda impressed, and the Safety Car overstayed its welcome.
P1. Oscar Piastri; P2. Lando Norris & P3. Charles Leclerc.
Round 10. Canadian Grand Prix
Montreal belonged to Mercedes and to Russell. Pole on merit, race managed like a champion in waiting, and a car that finally looked kind to its tyres in furnace conditions. On a day when Verstappen could not quite close the gap, George delivered the complete weekend Lewis used to make look normal.
The real drama was papaya friendly fire. Norris and Piastri finally hit each other. You could feel it brewing all season and it arrived with a thud. Norris rear-ended Piastri, the first physical proof that the so-called Papaya Rules are window dressing without a clear hierarchy.
McLaren were scrappy all weekend. Norris starting P7, stuck behind Alonso for an eternity, Piastri doing the heavier lifting until the clash. There is a title-winning car there, but the operation is fumbling a title-winning unit.
Ferrari looked like a distracted team. Crashes, rumours about Vasseur, a sense of drift.
Antonelli was the shining light. That lap 1 pass on Piastri was outrageous, the drive to P2 calm, adult, no ego. The kid is the real deal. The question is whether Mercedes can give him a car worthy of that talent.
P1. George Russell; P2. Max Verstappen & P3. Kimi Antonelli.
Round 11. Austrian Grand Prix
Austria was volcanic. Short lap, brutal kerbs, sky-high tension inside McLaren, and Verstappen’s title bid punted by a rookie before the season’s halfway mark.
Sainz’s Williams literally caught fire on lap 1 and that was just the warm up act. Antonelli misjudged it with Verstappen and that was that. Max out, 13 races to go, and suddenly the fifth title looks a lot less inevitable. To his credit, Verstappen handled it calmly in parc ferme, but the damage to his campaign is real.
Norris responded like a driver still clinging to the idea that this is his year. No FP1, pole in Q3, win on Sunday. On track he was superb, but the near contact with Piastri when the Australian attacked for the lead exposed the crack in the garage.
Piastri looked rattled afterwards, like a guy who knows the tide inside the team might be turning. McLaren are miles clear on pace, 20 seconds up the road, but emotionally this felt like the beginning of a civil war.
Ferrari clung on with a Leclerc podium. Hamilton again looked lost in the SF 25. Williams and Sauber both cashed in on the chaos, while Mercedes spent valuable upgrade miles discovering their package hates the heat.
P1. Lando Norris; P2. Oscar Piastri & P3. Charles Leclerc.
Round 12. British Grand Prix
Silverstone was chaos and catharsis. Rain, Safety Cars, spins, politics, and at the end of it, Norris sending the British crowd into orbit with a home win that actually meant something in the title picture.
Verstappen had them where he wanted them until Piastri lost his head behind the Safety Car, braked erratically and picked up a 10 second penalty that killed his own race and detonated McLaren’s perfect day. It was dangerous, clumsy, and utterly unlike the cold killer we had seen elsewhere.
Norris kept his cool. When Verstappen spun out after that Safety Car phase, Lando took the win and a chunk out of his title deficit. McLaren chose not to appeal the penalty for Piastri, prioritising the 1 2 politically over a courtroom scrap. That will not be forgotten in Oscar’s camp.
Verstappen’s low downforce gamble was classic Red Bull 2025. Brave, fast for a moment, then exposed by weather and reality.
Hulkenberg’s first podium, from P19, was one of those beautiful F1 subplots. Sauber finally got rewarded for years of graft. Ferrari blew another chance, Hamilton P4 at home, Leclerc doing lottery tyre calls. Mercedes, celebrating 75 years, managed a patchwork of bad decisions and bent cars.
P1. Lando Norris; P2. Oscar Piastri & P3. Nico Hulkenberg.
Round 13. Belgian Grand Prix
Spa-Francorchamps should always be epic. This time the race was decided before some fans had found their seats. Sprint domination for Verstappen, then in the Grand Prix Piastri ripped past Norris on Kemmel, managed the race and took his sixth win like it was no big deal.
Norris had arrived on a hot streak and left with his wings clipped. Same car, same team, but on Sunday Piastri was the adult in the room. Mediums versus Hards, clinical pass, no fuss. That is how you win titles.
Verstappen was grumpy all weekend. Delayed start behind the Safety Car, wet tyres that cannot cope with proper rain, and a high downforce setup that turned the RB21 into a sitting duck once it dried. Leclerc mugged him and held on, which will have stung.
The only bright red thing working was the Ferrari on defence. Hamilton had another weird, scrambled weekend, then salvaged P7 from the pitlane while probably wondering what on earth he signed up for.
McLaren wrapped up the Constructors’ with ease, and yet you could feel the tension rising. This is now a straight fight between two guys in the same garage, while Verstappen and Red Bull play catch up with a car that still does not respond like it should.
P1. Oscar Piastri; P2. Lando Norris & P3. Charles Leclerc.
Round 14. Hungarian Grand Prix
Hungary closed the first half of the season with a message. McLaren own this era. They just do not know which of their drivers will carry the crown.
On a one stop day in Budapest, Norris did what champions do. Started P3, slipped back, did not panic, then made the strategy sing. Tyre management, patience, and then steel at the end when Piastri came lunging like it was karting at the local track. The radio reminder about teammate respect was polite code for “do not ruin this.”
Piastri’s Spa win meant he hit the break 9 points ahead, but this race felt like momentum sliding back towards Lando.
Red Bull were nowhere. Verstappen wrestling understeer and oversteer in the same lap, Mekies having a horror debut weekend as team boss, the car slow in all the wrong places. Max confirming he is staying for 2026 sounded more like a hostage tape than a love letter.
Ferrari managed to waste a Leclerc pole with a weird pace fade and some mysterious chassis problem. Hamilton sank into another weekend of frustration and sideways glances at Maranello culture. Aston Martin finally found a track that flattered them, Alonso doing Alonso things while Stroll tried to keep up.
P1. Lando Norris; P2. Oscar Piastri & P3. George Russell.
Round 15. Dutch Grand Prix
Zandvoort was meant to be orange heaven. Instead it was papaya control with a nasty twist. Piastri cruised, barely stressed the engine, and won. Norris chased, repassed Verstappen, looked fired up, then his car died. Second DNF of the season, 34 point hole, and suddenly the golden boy is the chaser, not the hunted.
Verstappen threw everything at it for the home fans. Aggressive tyre choices, early attacks, the lot. The car and the conditions would not match his intent. When even Max cannot drag more from it, you know how bad the RB21 window is.
Ferrari’s weekend was a public therapy session. Hamilton crashed in the drizzle, picked up a grid drop for Monza, then talked about self-doubt. Leclerc got taken out by Antonelli in a move that screamed rookie impatience, after earlier contact with Russell that somehow went unpunished.
Hadjar was the revelation. A perfect, grown-up drive to P3 under big pressure, defending from Leclerc and Russell, then dealing with the mental load of a first podium at this level. Racing Bulls stuck in the points again, quietly becoming a proper force.
P1. Oscar Piastri; P2. Max Verstappen & P3. Isack Hadjar.
Round 16. Italian Grand Prix
Monza gave Verstappen what he craves. Pure speed, pure numbers, pure history. Fastest lap in Monza history for pole, fastest Grand Prix ever, taking a record off Schumacher. In this messy season, it was the one weekend Red Bull nailed their identity. Low drag, high risk, let Max do the rest.
He fluffed the start, lost out to Norris into Turn 1, then took the place back with a move that balanced aggression, respect and the rulebook. Being told to hand it back, then repassing properl,y summed up the strange climate we are in. Lawyers everywhere, yet somehow the best drivers still sort it out on track.
McLaren had no answer. Nineteen seconds behind at the flag, and still Zak and Stella chose to order Piastri to gift P2 to Norris to cover Leclerc. On pace, it was probably the right call. In a title fight between your own guys, it leaves scars.
Hamilton, in Ferrari red at Monza for the first time, felt like fan fiction. Started only P10 with a penalty, fought his way up, finished just behind Leclerc, and earned the Tifosi’s patience if not their ecstasy.
Down the order, Pirelli celebrated 500 Grands Prix with a boring one stop, Bortoleto, Hadjar and Tsunoda all banked solid results, and Antonelli found every kind of trouble.
P1. Max Verstappen; P2. Lando Norris & P3. Oscar Piastri.
Round 17. Azerbaijan Grand Prix
Baku qualifying was a farce, a circus of wind, drizzle and carbon fibre. Six red flags, big names in the wall, and by the end of it nobody quite knew who actually had a clean lap. Piastri did not. Leclerc did not.
Race day settled into something more normal until Piastri jumped the start, then stuck it in the wall on lap 1. The Safety Car rolled, and Verstappen turned chaos into order. Pole, every lap led, job done. When Red Bull give him a half decent platform, he still looks unbeatable.
McLaren blew a golden chance to clinch the Constructors’ in style. Norris qualified nowhere, suffered yet another clumsy stop, and ended up buried in a DRS train. The swagger from mid season evaporated in the Caucasus heat.
Ferrari teased again in practice then vanished. Hamilton and Leclerc both found barriers before the race and then spent Sunday fighting for minor points.
The feel good story was Williams. Sainz took P3 by refusing to blink, banking a banker lap while others chucked it away, then defending with grit. Russell’s P2 with a fever was impressive, Antonelli’s recovery drive to P4 reminded everyone the kid learns fast. Lawson outgunned Hadjar again at Racing Bulls, Tsunoda talked bold but drove like a rolling roadblock.
P1. Max Verstappen; P2. George Russell & P3. Carlos Sainz.
Round 18. Singapore Grand Prix
Singapore gave Russell what Canada hinted at. A proper, heavyweight win under lights, on a street circuit that exposes every weakness. Two years on from binning it while chasing Norris, he came back as team leader and closed that mental loop. Pole, control, redemption.
McLaren did enough to seal their second straight Constructors’ title, which is no small thing. Yet the talk was not about that. It was about Norris and Piastri banging wheels at Turn 1, again, and the feeling that Papaya Rules are just branding while the team leans emotionally towards Lando when it really matters.
Red Bull finally looked alive at a high downforce track. Verstappen could have fought for the win with a clean car, but downshift issues forced him into damage limitation and P2. That is how you know the fight is still on. Even broken, he is there.
Ferrari delivered another urban nightmare. Brake issues on both cars, penalties, and Hamilton once again wondering how many more times this year he has to say “we need to improve.”
Behind them, Alonso reminded everyone he is still a street circuit monster, Bearman nicked points, Sainz dragged a Williams forward. The field is stacked, the margin for error is tiny, and Singapore punished every weakness.
P1. George Russell; P2. Max Verstappen & P3. Lando Norris.
Round 19. United States Grand Prix
Austin was Verstappen’s roar. Sprint pole, Sprint win, Grand Prix pole, Grand Prix win. A clean sweep that dragged him right back into a title fight McLaren thought they had buried.
Red Bull finally listened properly to the guy in car 1. New floor, new front wing, setup philosophy bent around Verstappen’s feel, and suddenly the RB21 looked like a Red Bull again rather than a committee project. The gap to Piastri in the standings shrank to 40 points with five races left, and you could feel the paddock twitch.
McLaren’s weekend was a horror show. Both cars were wiped out of the Sprint in a mess involving Hulkenberg. The team piled into Nico, then had to eat their words when the replays told a different story. After Singapore, after Canada, this was another example of a team not owning its own role in the collisions.
Ferrari’s form swung wildly between Saturday and Sunday, without real explanation. Mercedes slid backwards after the Singapore high, blaming the heat despite similar conditions they had already handled elsewhere. Leclerc soldiered on to P3.
Stroll drove like a man who thinks the rules do not apply to him, bouncing off Ocon and rejoining like it was a track day. Hulkenberg had speed but no luck, Sainz took a Sprint podium then torpedoed Antonelli in the race and got a deserved penalty.
P1. Max Verstappen; P2. Lando Norris & P3. Charles Leclerc.
Round 20. Mexico City Grand Prix
Mexico was Norris at his ruthless best. Pole, 30 second win, a message drive at altitude when Verstappen and Red Bull usually own the thin air. McLaren nailed the strategy and finally looked like a team willing to put the title leader at the centre of their universe for one weekend.
Piastri, though, had another off colour Sunday. Qualifying misfire, race pace nowhere near Norris, and more talk about confidence and favouritism. By the flag, he was a point behind his teammate in the standings and the psychological tide felt fully orange on one side of the garage only.
Verstappen fought like hell in a car that clearly hated the conditions. Fifth on the grid, one stop gamble on Mediums, then a Soft tyre sprint that might have delivered more without Sainz parking his Williams and triggering a late VSC. The gap to Norris shrank to 36 points, but you sense Max smelled an even bigger haul.
Ferrari’s day was peak chaos. Hamilton qualified well, then clattered Verstappen at the start, kept the place, and earned a penalty when the team failed to give the obvious instruction to hand it back. Leclerc hung on for P2, more through stubborn defence and some VSC luck than outright pace.
Bearman shone again, Ocon got outclassed, Russell spent more time complaining on the radio than building moves, and Stroll continued his personal war with responsibility.
P1. Lando Norris; P2. Charles Leclerc & P3. Max Verstappen.
Round 21. Sao Paulo Grand Prix
Interlagos felt like the weekend Norris finally stepped fully into the role of future world champion. Two poles, two wins, different conditions, different pressures, same outcome. Piastri crashed in the Sprint, then got tangled in a Grand Prix incident and slapped with a 10 second penalty that many of us still think was harsh.
Norris did not care. He just kept hitting his marks. In a season where consistency has been his biggest weakness, Sao Paulo looked like a line in the sand. If he loses this title from here, it will haunt him forever.
Verstappen, starting P16 then from the pitlane after a power unit change, produced one of those relentless charges only he can. P3 at the flag despite a puncture from the Piastri Antonelli clash. Red Bull, though, humiliated themselves by binning the setup that actually worked on Friday. Championship on the line, and they experimented themselves into trouble.
Antonelli was magnificent. P2, defending against a charging Verstappen with a calmness that was frankly ridiculous for his age. The rest of the field played supporting roles in a race that was all about redemption, dominance and blown opportunities.
P1. Lando Norris; P2. Kimi Antonelli & P3. Max Verstappen.
Round 22. Las Vegas Grand Prix
Las Vegas should probably never have been a Grand Prix. Freezing nights, unhappy resident, manhole covers, cartoon pre-race nonsense. Yet somehow it became the most important race of the season.
McLaren turned up terrified of tyre wear, data gaps and Verstappen. They slammed the cars into the deck, ran low ride height to cling to their advantage and got thrown out for it. Both Norris and Piastri were disqualified for worn planks. That is not cruel fate. That is self-inflicted.
On track, Verstappen did exactly what a four-time champion does when offered a lifeline. Passed Norris at the start after Lando defended like a man feeling ghosts, then controlled the race while McLaren panicked behind. Russell had a sniff, Norris came back at him, but Max had the calm execution his rivals lack.
The points swing was brutal. Verstappen’s deficit to Norris chopped from 49 to 24. Piastri dragged into a tie with Max. A season that should have been wrapped up turned into a knife fight because McLaren overcompensated for a street track and forgot that legality is part of performance.
P1. Max Verstappen; P2. George Russell & P3. Charles Leclerc.
Round 23. Qatar Grand Prix
Qatar was Verstappen at his finest. Bouncing, limited setup time, a car that still hates itself, and he still found a way to win. Three victories on the board now, all of them dragged out of a reluctant Red Bull RB21 by sheer force of will.
McLaren had the pace to bury this title. Instead, they imploded again. Piastri led comfortably until the Safety Car, Norris sat there ready for another big swing, and the pit wall folded under pressure. They double-stacked Lando, left Oscar out, and in one decision, kneecapped both drivers. No win, no podium for Norris, more fuel for the conspiracy theorists about who they really back.
Verstappen just kept hitting his numbers. Stayed out of the mess, executed the strategy, and punished McLaren’s fear. The gap is now 12 points heading into Abu Dhabi, in a season where at one stage Verstappen looked dead and buried.
Sainz had one of the drives of his life for Williams, P3 on Sunday after banking points in the Sprint. You could hear the pride in his voice. Ferrari staggered on in a fog of bad setups and worse moods.
For me, Qatar was the perfect symbol of 2025. A genius driver hauling a flawed car into a title fight, and a supposedly reformed superteam tripping over its own morality tale about fairness.
P1. Max Verstappen; P2. Lando Norris & P3. Carlos Sainz.
The end of a marathon is approaching! Bringing the curtain down on what has been a thoroughly intriguing and immensely entertaining Formula 1 season with this weekend's Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the cherry on a sumptuous cake we were served by our great sport.
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