Did Max Verstappen get away with one in Mexico? Martin Brundle thinks so — and he didn’t mince his words.
The opening seconds at Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez were pure turn-one roulette. Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton and Verstappen thundered down to the braking zone four-wide, and two of them — Leclerc and Verstappen — chose the real estate beyond it. The stewards, faced with the usual lap-one fog of war, took a deep breath and opted for no further action.
Brundle wasn’t buying it. On Sky’s The F1 Show, he argued Leclerc should’ve swallowed a penalty for skipping Turn 2 after trying Turn 1 (“100 per cent,” in his words), and that Verstappen’s case merited something even stiffer. “I might even have given… a drive-through as a proper deterrent to stop the silliness,” he said, pointing to what he felt was a calculated decision from the Red Bull on the far left to avoid the sequence entirely and floor it through the runoff.
It’s a strong view, and it goes to the heart of a grey area F1 hasn’t cleaned up: intent versus outcome. Did Verstappen aim to make the corner and simply run out of road when he hit the kerb? Or did he know that going in that far left, in a four-abreast squeeze, gave him a get-out clause through the grass? His own explanation leaned hard on circumstance. “I had a very good start… you’re following what the car next to you is doing,” he said after the race. “I had to move left… then I started bottoming out on the kerb. A bit of rallying between Turns 1 and 2.” He rejoined, found his spot, and got on with it.
From Race Control’s chair, lap one is almost always triage. The stewards tend to give more latitude when the pack compresses and angles close, not least at this circuit’s Turn 1-2-3 where the asphalt runoff practically invites problem-solving. If they’d started dishing out penalties for every shortcut in that opening exchange, we’d still be sorting the order now. But consistency matters, and Brundle’s frustration taps into what a lot of drivers felt mid-pack: if you keep it on the island and lose out to those who don’t, where’s the line?
What would a drive-through have changed? Everything. It’s one of the harshest tools available, and we saw just how punishing it can be when Carlos Sainz copped one for a second pit-lane speeding violation. For Verstappen, it would have nuked his recovery. Instead, he turned a scrappy start into a clever podium with a one-stop, nursing the softs late and reeling in Leclerc before a late Virtual Safety Car snuffed out the chase. You don’t have to agree with Brundle to see his point: the punishment for skipping corners on lap one rarely outweighs the temptation.
There’s also the question of proportionality. A 10-second penalty for Leclerc, as Brundle suggested, would’ve been on the severe end for a first-lap shortcut that wasn’t an obvious slam-and-dash. A drive-through for Verstappen? That’s making a statement — and maybe that’s what some feel the stewards need to do at this track. But the regulations still lean on whether a driver gained a lasting advantage. Leclerc gave the place back; Verstappen rejoined, slotted in, and didn’t exactly rocket off into the distance. That’s likely what kept the panel’s cards in their pockets.
The bigger picture is just as intriguing. Norris controlled the race from the front and, per the current championship picture, he’s the one everyone’s chasing now. Verstappen’s P3 trimmed the gap, but not by much, and he knows he can’t keep handing away clean starts. If you’re in the Red Bull garage, you’ll tell yourself the car wasn’t quite there on grip, the soft tyre strategy was the right play, and the VSC cost you a shot at Leclerc. All true. It doesn’t erase the opening-lap mess.
Where does that leave the debate? Somewhere uncomfortable, which is probably why it’s not going away. If the FIA wants to end the Turn 1 lawn-darting at Mexico, it has two choices: reshape the deterrents (stricter, automatic penalties for leaving the track and skipping the next apex on lap one), or reshape the run-off. Until then, drivers will keep exploiting the letter of the law — and pundits like Brundle will keep calling for the spirit of it.
For what it’s worth, Verstappen’s “alibi” — the car bottoming on the kerb — is plausible. These 2025 machines are low and stiff, and Mexico City’s bumps don’t care how many titles you’ve won. But intent still hangs in the air. In a four-wide, full-send world, is it the driver’s job to aim for the apex at all costs, or the steward’s job to punish those who don’t? Mexico gave us both sides of that argument in about six seconds.
Next stop, a title run-in that gets tighter, tenser and, if this is any indication, no calmer. The margins are small. The penalties, if they come, won’t be.
