Brundle meets a Capaldi… just not that one: the grid-walk blooper that stole Singapore
Long before the lights went out, Singapore already had its moment. Martin Brundle, prowling the Marina Bay grid in that familiar, slightly chaotic way only he can, beelined toward a Capaldi — and greeted the wrong one.
“Lewis, wonderful to see you,” Brundle smiled. Except it was Aidan Capaldi. “I’m his brother,” came the gentle correction, promptly turning a routine celebrity hit into prime-time awkward comedy. Seconds later the real Lewis Capaldi materialised, the trio fell into a quick, easy exchange, and Brundle moved to wrap with the band striking up for the anthem.
Then came the encore. Capaldi offered a handshake; Brundle, with a broadcaster’s three-second countdown screeching in his ear, pivoted back to camera and missed it entirely. Lewis, ever the performer, shook his own hand and burst out laughing as the director stayed on the shot just long enough to make it internet famous.
The clip did what clips like this do — set social alight. Capaldi himself reposted it with a cheeky caption, while Brundle, nine-times an F1 podium finisher before he became one of its defining TV voices, quickly owned the flub and explained the miss.
“Sincere apologies Lewis, I turned around to the camera with an urgent 3 second count going on in my ears to wind up for the national anthem,” Brundle wrote. “Had no idea you were trying to shake my hand. A cardinal sin on my part which I hope to put right one day. Hope you enjoyed F1.”
It was pure Brundle grid-walk theatre: a dash of panic, a sprinkling of star power, and a payoff that sits neatly alongside his greatest hits with Ozzy Osbourne, Brad Pitt and Pep Guardiola. If there’s a hall of fame for gloriously awkward F1 celebrity encounters, Lewis Capaldi just walked in and hung his jacket.
The race, in the end, had to try hard to top pre-race programming. George Russell delivered, converting a sharp weekend into victory — his second of the season — to keep Mercedes’ momentum alive under the lights. Max Verstappen chased him home for Red Bull, coaxing a car that was fighting downshift niggles and balance gremlins well enough to bank P2. Lando Norris completed the podium, another composed drive that mattered just as much to the bigger picture as the trophy: McLaren successfully defended their Constructors’ Championship crown in Singapore, the papaya effort sealing the deal with races to spare.
It was that kind of evening. Heat thick in the air, precision on the pit wall, and just enough drama to keep the front three honest without tipping the result into chaos. Verstappen’s management was quietly impressive given the complaints on the radio, while Norris kept the laps clean and the maths in McLaren’s favour — no heroics required when there’s a title to put to bed.
But it’s the grid that people will be talking about when the circus packs up. Brundle’s segment is an institution because it lives on the edge. The live TV countdown always wins; the A-listers don’t always play ball. And sometimes, like in Singapore, the whole thing veers into the kind of charming, human moment that reminds you Formula 1 is a live sport dressed in Hollywood clothing.
Capaldi took it in brilliant spirits. Brundle, as ever, met the moment with a wink and a mea culpa. You suspect the handshake will be made good the next time their paths cross — ideally without a director shouting in Brundle’s ear and the national anthem seconds away.
On a night where Russell banked silverware and McLaren ticked off a championship, the funniest trophy might have gone to a handshake that never was. Singapore gave us both.
