Baku bound: McLaren tidies up the radio, Norris plots a Silverstone takeover, and FIA pours cold water on 2026 ‘brain game’ talk
Formula 1 rolls into Baku this week with the championship edges softening into a street-fight again, and McLaren’s intra-garage subplot is politely simmering. Just 31 points split Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri as the papaya pair reset after Monza, where a late team-orders call stirred the pot and sent everyone reaching for their headphones.
Piastri’s stance? Calm, measured, and very McLaren. After a debrief with the team, the Australian made clear his compass still points to the collective first. He explained that conversations since Monza centred on clarity and process, not politics, and that protecting the team’s bigger picture is non-negotiable if he wants to win anything at all. It’s the sort of line that sounds PR-smooth until you remember Piastri generally says what he means.
In Baku, where strategy can unravel faster than a DRS train in the wind, expect a subtle spotlight on McLaren’s pit wall choreography. They’ve got two drivers in the title conversation and, crucially, two drivers quick enough to trip over each other on the wrong Sunday. Get it right, and they’re in business. Get it wrong, and Twitter writes the script.
Speaking of scripts, Norris has written his own for Silverstone. The ‘Landostand’ is returning in 2026, bigger and louder, with the circuit creating room at Stowe for thousands more in papaya. Last time, tickets vanished in minutes; this time, Norris says the aim is not just more seats but a “cooler experience.” Translation: expect serious spectacle. When a driver can sell out a grandstand by sneezing, that’s star power—and a useful tailwind for a team intent on staying at the sharp end.
Meantime, Max Verstappen found himself playing follow-the-leader at the Nürburgring—sort of. Instructor Andreas Gülden confessed he was “lucky” to have more power in his car as he guided the reigning champion around, with slicks versus road tyres adding to the theatre. The takeaway wasn’t lap time; it was another reminder of why Verstappen’s feel for a car continues to astonish people who teach driving for a living. Even the demo runs look fast.
There’s also a ripple of 2026 chat already washing through the paddock, and Alex Albon gave it a nudge by suggesting adaptability and a clever touch behind the wheel will be decisive under the new rules. The FIA’s Nikolas Tombazis isn’t ready to rubber-stamp that narrative yet. His reminder was simple: mental bandwidth has separated the greats for decades; it’s not a new currency, and predicting who cashes in two seasons ahead is premature. Sensible, if slightly less fun than anointing the grid’s chess grandmasters right now.
And then there’s Red Bull. Helmut Marko has framed Christian Horner’s removal as the “right decision,” arguing that in F1’s current complexity, a technical mind at the top is the cleaner solution. He pointed to Laurent Mekies’ expertise as a signpost for that direction. It’s a notable admission from a man who doesn’t typically waste words: Red Bull believes control from the technical core is the way back to unambiguous authority on Sundays. If that unlocks the development taps, the rest of the field won’t need a press release to notice.
So, Baku. Slipstream roulette down the boulevard, a pit entry that punishes the greedy, and a castle section that still looks too narrow for modern F1 cars until the onboard shows otherwise. McLaren enters with form and friction in equal measure—good friction, the competitive kind. Piastri’s message to the team was essentially: tell me earlier, tell me clearer, and I’ll do the job. Norris, all momentum and marketing savvy, is turning home races into festivals. Red Bull is rearranging the furniture. The FIA is keeping the 2026 hype on a leash.
It’s another race week, and the noise is back. Expect the radio to matter in Azerbaijan. And expect McLaren, of all teams, to know that better than anyone.
