I don't want to rely on that every single Sunday.
At Miami, Oscar Piastri claimed his third consecutive Formula One victory, quietly cementing himself as the season's dominant force while the sport's most celebrated champion struggled in the shadows. The race was less a contest than a demonstration — of McLaren's engineering superiority, of Piastri's measured self-awareness, and of the fragile human machinery that underlies even the most storied careers. Lewis Hamilton, seven titles to his name and now dressed in Ferrari red, found himself not battling for the podium but for clarity from his own pit wall, a reminder that legacy and circumstance are not the same thing.
- Piastri moved past Verstappen on lap 14 with the calm precision of someone who had already decided the race was his, and nothing that followed suggested otherwise.
- McLaren's one-two finish wasn't close — Norris crossed the line nearly 38 seconds ahead of Russell, a gap that signals not just a good weekend but a structural advantage over the rest of the field.
- Hamilton's radio exchanges with Ferrari crackled with barely contained frustration as the team delayed a strategic call that cost him time and positions, exposing a communication gap that could define his season.
- Sitting 90 points behind Piastri and seventh in the standings, Hamilton insisted his fire remains undiminished — but the gap between desire and circumstance has rarely looked wider.
- Piastri himself deflated the triumphalism, noting that winning from fourth on the grid is not a repeatable formula and that he cannot afford to rely on fortune holding every Sunday.
Oscar Piastri arrived in Miami already carrying the momentum of two consecutive wins, and he left with a third, extending his championship lead to 16 points over teammate Lando Norris and becoming the first McLaren driver to win three straight races since Mika Häkkinen in 1997-98. Max Verstappen led from pole, but Piastri was patient — on lap 14 he moved past the Red Bull, and four laps later Norris followed. The papaya cars had taken over, and they never gave the race back.
Norris finished second, nearly 38 seconds clear of Mercedes' George Russell in third. The margin was not a close call — it was a statement about where McLaren's car currently stands relative to the field. Yet Piastri, in the post-race interviews, resisted the temptation to feel invincible. He'd qualified fourth, and he knew that wasn't good enough. He credited fortune and car pace in equal measure, and made clear he didn't want to depend on that combination every week. It was the kind of self-awareness that tends to age well.
The moment that traveled furthest beyond the paddock was lighter: before the race, Piastri had made a bet with NFL wide receiver Justin Jefferson — a win meant performing the Griddy on live television. He honored it, awkwardly and cheerfully, then promised it would never happen again. Jefferson, watching from the stands, offered his blessing on Instagram and suggested they work on the footwork another time.
Beneath the celebration, though, a more consequential story was unfolding. Lewis Hamilton, in his debut season with Ferrari, finished eighth — more than a minute behind Piastri, just three seconds ahead of his own teammate Charles Leclerc. He'd started 12th and fought forward, but a pit stop that gave him a speed advantage over Leclerc was squandered when Ferrari hesitated before issuing the team order to swap positions. The delay cost him time and exposed a decision-making gap that Hamilton made no effort to conceal over the radio. "You could have a tea break while you're at it," he told his engineers.
Afterward, Hamilton softened the edges without retracting the substance. He's 40, seventh in the standings, 90 points back. He said the fire is still there, that he won't apologize for wanting it. But the radio exchanges pointed at something structural: a driver built on clarity and speed now navigating a team that moves differently than the one he spent over a decade mastering. Whether Ferrari can close that gap — and whether Hamilton can find the patience to let them — may well determine how this chapter of his career is eventually remembered.
Oscar Piastri's dominance in the 2025 Formula One season reached a new peak on Sunday at Miami, where he claimed his third consecutive victory and fourth win of the year. The Australian driver's performance was so commanding that it overshadowed what should have been a triumphant debut season for Lewis Hamilton at Ferrari—and instead exposed the kind of friction that can fester when a team's strategy doesn't move fast enough.
Max Verstappen started from pole position and led the early laps, but Piastri was patient and precise. On lap 14, he made his move, sliding past the Red Bull driver and never surrendering the lead. Four laps later, his McLaren teammate Lando Norris did the same to Verstappen, and suddenly the papaya cars had established a stranglehold on the race. Norris finished second, nearly 38 seconds clear of Mercedes' George Russell in third. The gap told the story: McLaren had brought a car that was simply faster than everything else on the track.
Piastri's fourth win of the season extended his championship lead to 16 points over Norris, making him the first McLaren driver to win three races in a row since Mika Häkkinen achieved the feat in 1997-98. But in the post-race interviews, Piastri was careful not to let the victory inflate his sense of the weekend. He'd qualified fourth on Saturday, and he knew that starting position was a vulnerability. "The likelihood of winning many races after qualifying fourth is pretty low," he told reporters. He credited the car's unexpected pace from lap one, the good fortune of circumstances, and his own solid execution—but he was clear that he didn't want to depend on that combination every Sunday. It was the kind of honest self-assessment that separates drivers who think they're invincible from those who understand how narrow the margins really are.
The post-race moment that captured the most attention, though, had nothing to do with lap times. Piastri had made a bet with Minnesota Vikings wide receiver Justin Jefferson before the race: if he won, he'd perform the Griddy, the touchdown celebration that Jefferson had popularized. True to his word, Piastri climbed out of his car and attempted the dance on live television. He was the first to admit it needed work. "That was my first attempt at a Griddy live on world TV," he said. "I stayed true to the bet, but that's the one and only time you'll be seeing me do that." Jefferson, watching from the stands, gave his approval on Instagram: "You did just fine. We gone work on the dance moves another time, just keep winning brother!!" It was a small moment of levity in a sport that can feel suffocatingly serious.
The Miami Grand Prix itself had been a spectacle of celebrity and novelty. Timothée Chalamet, Patrick Mahomes, and Lisa from Blackpink were among the attendees. The drivers' parade featured a twist: instead of riding in trucks, each driver piloted a fully functional LEGO replica of their F1 car, each one constructed from nearly 400,000 bricks and decorated with their unique numbers and liveries. It was the kind of thing that makes Formula One feel like it's trying to stay relevant to audiences beyond the hardcore racing fans.
But beneath the spectacle and the celebration, there was a story of frustration that will likely matter far more in the weeks ahead. Lewis Hamilton, the seven-time world champion in his debut season with Ferrari, finished eighth, more than a minute behind Piastri and just three seconds ahead of his own teammate Charles Leclerc. He'd started 12th and fought his way forward, but the race exposed something troubling about how Ferrari is managing its two drivers and, more broadly, how quickly decisions are being made under pressure.
During the race, Hamilton closed in on Leclerc after a pit stop gave him a speed advantage. Ferrari initially told both drivers to hold position, but then, a few laps later, instructed Leclerc to let Hamilton through. The delay cost Hamilton time and positions. Over the radio, his frustration boiled over. "You could have a tea break while you're at it," he told his engineers. When he was finally given the go-ahead to pass Leclerc, he called the delay "not good teamwork." Later, when informed that Williams driver Carlos Sainz was closing in, Hamilton asked sarcastically if they wanted him to "let Sainz through as well."
Afterward, Hamilton acknowledged the heat of the moment. He's 40 years old, sitting seventh in the championship standings, 90 points behind Piastri. He said he still has "that fire in my belly" and that his comments were more sarcastic than angry. "I'm not going to apologize for being a fighter," he told Sky Sports. "I'm not going to apologize for still wanting it." But the radio exchanges revealed something real: a driver accustomed to having the fastest car and the clearest strategic picture now operating in an environment where decisions are slower and less certain. Whether Ferrari can tighten that up, and whether Hamilton can find the patience to work within a team structure that moves differently than Mercedes did, will likely determine whether his Ferrari experiment becomes a redemption story or a cautionary tale.
Notable Quotes
The likelihood of winning many races after qualifying fourth is pretty low. I don't want to rely on that every single Sunday.— Oscar Piastri
I'm not going to apologize for being a fighter. I'm not going to apologize for still wanting it.— Lewis Hamilton
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Piastri's third win in a row is remarkable, but he seemed almost reluctant to celebrate it. Why would a driver downplay his own dominance?
Because he knows the difference between winning and being the best. He qualified fourth. On another Sunday, that gap to pole position costs him the race. He's saying: I got lucky with the car and the circumstances. I can't build a season on that.
So he's thinking ahead, not just about Miami but about the whole year.
Exactly. He's 24 and already thinking like a champion. He knows that qualifying is where the real work happens. The race is where you execute, but qualifying is where you prove you've got the edge.
And Hamilton—he seemed genuinely angry at his team over the radio. Is that unusual for him?
Not unusual, but the context matters. He's used to Mercedes, where the communication is crisp and the car is fast. Now he's at Ferrari, where decisions take longer and the car isn't as quick. He's frustrated because he can see the solution—let me past Charles—but his team is slow to execute it.
Does that radio tension suggest deeper problems at Ferrari?
It suggests Ferrari is still Ferrari. They're not as sharp as McLaren right now, and when you're not sharp, the cracks show. Hamilton's fire is real, but so is the question: can he adapt to a team that doesn't move at his speed?
Will this get resolved, or is it a sign of things to come?
It'll get resolved internally, but the underlying issue won't disappear. McLaren is faster. Ferrari is slower. Until that changes, there will be moments like this—a driver who knows what needs to happen, frustrated that it's not happening fast enough.