There are seasons you watch.

And then there are seasons you experience.

2026 has been the latter.

Twists, turns, highs, lows, heartbreak, agony, surprises and moments that have made Formula 1 feel more unpredictable than it has in years. From Bearman’s recovery after his first major incident, to McLaren’s remarkable ability to copy, develop and apply ideas, to Red Bull once again becoming the benchmark, there has been something happening everywhere you look.

Then there is Adrian Newey, still searching for that opportunity to properly fight at the front with Aston Martin.

And, of course, there is the man out front.

Kimi Antonelli.

But as always, I’m here to talk about Scuderia Ferrari.

And honestly, it might be getting old.

I’ve said it before.

I might have picked the wrong driver this season.

I Said I’d Stop

I’ve reached the point where I don’t even particularly want to watch Baku.

That’s a strange thing for someone who has spent so much of this season following Ferrari.

But if I’m being 100 percent honest, I’d rather see Charles Leclerc win the 2026 World Championship.

Not because I’ve suddenly decided Lewis Hamilton isn’t a great driver.

Not because I believe Hamilton has forgotten how to race.

And certainly not because I want to rewrite everything he has accomplished.

I want Charles to win because, quite simply, I think it’s his time.

That’s it.

No complicated explanation.

No political argument.

No debate about who deserves what.

Just Charles Leclerc finally getting the championship that, for years, has seemed like it should have been within his reach.

And yet somehow, once again, I’m sitting here talking about #44.

Ferrari Brought Lewis for the Championship

I’ve said this phrase before:

Ferrari did bring Lewis Hamilton to help win the championship.

But there is an important question buried inside that statement.

Did Ferrari bring Lewis Hamilton because he was expected to win it?

Or did Ferrari bring Hamilton because Ferrari believed he could help them build the environment necessary to win it?

Those are two very different things.

When Hamilton arrived at Maranello, the dream was obvious.

Ferrari had Charles Leclerc.

Ferrari had Lewis Hamilton.

Ferrari had two world-class drivers.

Ferrari had the resources.

Ferrari had the history.

And Ferrari desperately wanted the championship back.

It looked like the dream team.

But Formula 1 has a cruel way of turning dreams into spreadsheets.

Points.

Qualifying positions.

Race pace.

Mistakes.

Penalties.

Reliability.

Strategy.

Development.

And suddenly the romantic idea of Hamilton and Ferrari becomes something much more uncomfortable.

What has actually happened?

“Drive the Car”

Last year, Ferrari shareholder John Elkann told the drivers to essentially drive the car.

The internet exploded.

I did too.

At the time, it sounded blunt.

Almost dismissive.

The kind of statement that makes you wonder what is really happening behind the walls of Maranello.

But watching 2026 unfold, I’m starting to wonder whether Elkann was onto something.

Because eventually, there comes a point where explanations stop mattering.

The car has to be driven.

The points have to be collected.

The races have to be finished.

And the championship has to be won.

Hamilton is one of the greatest drivers Formula 1 has ever produced.

There is no argument there.

But if he were genuinely capable of taking the 2026 championship from Antonelli at this stage, wouldn’t we expect him to be closer?

Wouldn’t the championship picture look different?

Wouldn’t Ferrari be asking fewer questions about its lead driver?

Instead, here we are.

Still talking.

Still analysing.

Still explaining.

Still waiting.

Charles Doesn’t Need an Explanation

And this is where my position becomes uncomfortable.

Because Charles isn’t perfect either.

Neither driver is.

Neither sits in the absolute prime of their career anymore, and the 2026 field has exposed just how competitive Formula 1 has become.

But Charles has something Ferrari needs right now.

Certainty.

There are weekends when you can look at Leclerc and believe that if Ferrari finally gives him the right machine, he can win.

There are weekends when you don’t have to explain the result.

You simply see it.

And perhaps that is what has made this season so frustrating.

Because Ferrari doesn’t need another story.

It needs results.

Meanwhile, the Back of the Grid Is Getting Interesting

Perhaps the strangest part of all of this is that some of the most fascinating racing isn’t even happening at the front.

The midfield and back of the grid have become increasingly compelling.

Drivers fighting for tenth can produce more urgency than the championship leaders.

Teams developing aggressively can suddenly find themselves scoring points.

A mistake from one driver can completely rearrange the order.

And every weekend there seems to be another story emerging from somewhere nobody expected.

That’s Formula 1.

That’s why we watch.

And that’s why it feels particularly strange to admit that I might skip a race.

But Baku?

I’m okay with it.

Ferrari Had Its Chance

I think Ferrari had its chance.

And I think that chance is gone.

That doesn’t mean Ferrari has failed.

It doesn’t mean Hamilton has failed.

It doesn’t mean Charles has failed.

It simply means that championships are decided over an entire season, and Ferrari has not been consistent enough to keep itself in the position it needed to occupy.

Mercedes has.

Antonelli especially has.

And that’s the painful reality.

While Ferrari has been trying to understand itself, Mercedes has been building a championship.

While Ferrari has been debating drivers, Mercedes has been collecting points.

While Ferrari has been asking what went wrong, Antonelli has been answering the only question that ultimately matters:

How do I win the next race?

Maybe I Picked the Wrong Driver

So yes.

Maybe I picked the wrong driver.

Maybe #44 was never going to be the Ferrari championship answer in 2026.

And perhaps admitting that is better than spending the rest of the season trying to convince myself otherwise.

I’m still a Ferrari fan.

That hasn’t changed.

I still want to see the red cars win.

I still want to see the Scuderia standing on top of the world again.

But if I get to choose who carries that championship trophy back to Maranello this year?

I’m choosing Charles.

Not because he demanded the number-one status.

Not because he has won seven championships.

Not because Ferrari owes him anything.

Because it’s just his time.

And maybe that is the hardest part of being a Ferrari fan.

Sometimes you don’t get the ending you wanted.

Sometimes the driver you believed in isn’t the one who delivers.

Sometimes the championship disappears before you are ready to let it go.

And sometimes you simply have to accept it.

I don’t intend to watch Baku this year.

I’ll still cover whatever happens.

I’ll still watch the numbers.

I’ll still follow the development.

I’ll still talk about Ferrari.

But emotionally?

I’m already looking beyond it.

Maybe 2026 wasn’t Ferrari’s year.

Maybe it wasn’t Lewis’ year.

Maybe it wasn’t even Charles’ year.

That’s okay.

I’ll wait.

Because if Ferrari gets the next generation of this project right, perhaps the real story hasn’t even started yet.

2029 doesn’t sound so far away anymore.

And if Ferrari is still Ferrari when we get there, I’ll be watching.