Monza Opens an Oval-Style Slipstream Era for F1: Verstappen Turned into a Turtle, Antonelli is the Stranger Who Doesn't Need a Ticket

Monza has introduced a new style of F1 racing never seen before: cars that form a train, overtake using electric energy, and then get sucked back into a game of yo-yo. But amid that chaos, Kimi Antonelli – the young man who started from P19 – was the only one who truly understood the real rule: it is not the fastest who wins, but the one who knows how to use the wind of others to open their own door.

I sat in front of my screen in London, watching the Italian speed festival, and realised I was watching an entirely new sport. No more pure acceleration moves, no more DRS that opens and closes. Instead, Monza 2026 became a hidden oval track within a road course – where every car has the same offensive weapon but no shield for defence. Max Verstappen, the champion who once turned overtaking into art, could only cry on the radio: “People drive by you like you’re a turtle.”

That quote perfectly sums up what engineers call “yo-yo racing” – a new term coined for the 2026 season. But do not rush to label it as “entertaining” or “dramatic”. Look deeper: Monza exposed an uncomfortable truth – a faster car can no longer prove its superiority if it does not know how to manage energy like a veteran oval racer. And that is where the numbers are torn apart, not by an unlikely comeback, but by a sports sociologist trying to decode why 20 cars lined up in a parade while only one knew how to escape.

Context: The wrong consensus about “energy management”

Teams entered the 2026 season with a new engine formula, where electric power increases to nearly 50% of total output. This created a paradox: every car can attack fiercely for a few seconds using “overtake mode”, but then must spend entire straights recharging the battery. On conventional tracks, this difference can be hidden by slow corners and technical sequences. But at Monza – where 80% of the lap is made of long straights – it was exposed mercilessly.

Before the race, the media only spoke about Mercedes having the best power unit, or Red Bull sacrificing top speed for downforce. The general consensus was that the car with the better overall performance package would win. But Monza taught everyone a harsh lesson: having a faster car is only half the story. The other half is how to keep the position once you have overtaken. George Russell, who led most of the race, watched Verstappen fly past him on the straights like an arrow, only to be sucked back a few corners later like a rubber band. Russell could not break away from Verstappen, nor could Verstappen pull out a safe gap.

Imagine a football match where the attacking team scores easily but is immediately equalised just because the referee introduced a new offside rule. That frustration was visible on Verstappen’s face. He told the broadcaster: “The overtake mode looked quite promising, but as soon as I got in the lead, defending was nearly impossible. Even when we had the VSC, we boxed, had better tyres, I’m overtaking cars, but as soon as they can hang in that overtake mode, it’s too powerful to defend against.”

This reminds me of a phrase I once wrote in a football analysis: “I used to believe in the numbers, until the numbers were torn apart by a counter-attack.” At Monza, the numbers regarding top speed and lap time said nothing. What decided the outcome was the ability to read situations and manage energy like an economist, not a racer.

Core: Invisible data reveals a race unlike any other

Watching the telemetry again, I noticed a bizarre figure: the combination of slipstream and having to use energy to defend can create a lap-time difference of up to half a second simply based on track position. McLaren team boss Andrea Stella explained: “A faster car can actually struggle to pull away from a slower car when slipstream and boost are used to defend. And then you lose a lot of pace.”

Lando Norris and Pierre Gasly’s story is a prime example. Norris lost several laps just trying to pass Gasly, while ahead of them, Verstappen and Russell kept trading blows. Neither was willing to give way, and every pointless duel cost them time, allowing an outsider wearing number 19 to fight from the back. Kimi Antonelli, the 20-year-old Italian, did not get drawn into that chaotic vortex. He did not try to take positions immediately but moved from group to group like a knife through butter. While Russell was stuck with Verstappen, Antonelli sliced through each pack, from P19 to P6 right after the lap-6 restart, then continued his progress as the race unfolded.

Toto Wolff, Antonelli’s boss, called it “the mark of a great driver”: “We’ve seen it with the greats before – Lewis did it in some races. There’s just no stopping him. When a driver and a car are one, nothing can stop them.” But I do not believe raw talent alone explains Antonelli’s miracle. Looking closer, I see a subtler sociological factor: in a race where everyone tries to win alone, the winner is the only one who understands that slipstream at Monza is not a gift, but a debt. You must repay it with your own energy.

Breaking the gap: Why Monza became an “oval track” but no one wanted to cooperate?

American oval racers have an unwritten rule: when two cars are matched in speed, they take turns leading to save fuel and maintain a gap over the rest of the pack. It is a game of teamwork, where you willingly yield position to your rival for a lap and then break away together. But on a road course in F1, that is almost impossible because every driver is fighting for himself, for the championship, for the standings. Russell and Verstappen never thought of “cooperating” to escape the group behind. They were too busy protecting their own positions, and as a result, they devoured each other.

This creates a paradox: Monza 2026 resembled a miniature oval race, but the cars behaved as if they were alone out there. No one was willing to sacrifice a small part of personal gain for the collective good. This is not the drivers’ fault; it is the fault of a system where every point determines contracts, bonuses, and reputation. I see a parallel with a football team where every player wants to score instead of passing to someone in a better position. And as usual, that team will lose to a group that puts the collective above the individual.

Antonelli did not engage in those duels. He passed through everyone like a stranger walking through a crowd of arguers. Not because he was faster, but because he was less absorbed in the emotional vortex. Ultimately, Antonelli’s victory is not just the victory of a superior Mercedes car, but the victory of a calm mindset – something ordinary numbers cannot measure.

Contrarian angle: What makes Monza relevant to 2026 is precisely its chaos

I might be wrong. It is possible Monza is just an anomaly, a track too extreme for the new rules, and subsequent races will return to a normal pattern of clearer overtakes. But listen to how team principals described the event. Andrea Stella called Monza “the most relevant race of the season with the new regulations,” not because it was so special, but because it demanded higher execution quality than ever. Fred Vasseur of Ferrari also complained that they could almost neither attack nor defend because other cars were too powerful when using overtake mode. So could it be that we are witnessing the return of a new form of tactical racing, where the one who knows how to avoid duels rather than engage in them will win?

Again, I remember my own motto: “A stranger does not need a ticket; they open the door with their own feet.” Antonelli had no ticket to join the fight at the front, but he had feet that knew how to find the open space. At age 20, among a forest of energy-boasting cars, he proved that in modern F1, being an outsider is actually a starting advantage.

Takeaway: An open question

Monza 2026 will go down in history as the most controversial case study of the hybrid era. Will the next races, from Singapore to Abu Dhabi, replicate the “train” pattern? Or will engineers figure out how to decode the energy puzzle and turn slipstream into a true art, where drivers can cooperate like a dance team on ice?

I have no answer. But I know one thing: from contempt to admiration, and from admiration to disappointment, Monza has gifted F1 a longer journey than anyone expected – and only those who never stop watching, like a race-track sociologist, can read the hidden message within it.