Lewis Hamilton walks into Monza with that familiar spring in his step and a very unfamiliar feeling in his gut. The seven-time champ admits the first half of his Ferrari adventure has been more “volatile” than he bargained for, a season that keeps yanking between hope and hard knocks. Still no podium in red. Still chasing Charles Leclerc in the standings. Still trying to knit himself into Ferrari’s rhythm.
And yet, this isn’t a man wobbling. It’s a man recalibrating.
Hamilton’s Hungary trough was followed by a brighter Zandvoort, where he looked much closer to Leclerc’s pace before the weekend unraveled with a Turn 3 kiss of the wall and the yellow-flag drama that will cost him five grid places at Monza. The penalty stings, especially here, of all places, where the tifosi turn every lap into theatre. But Hamilton’s tone has shifted from frustration to fastening the chin strap and getting on with it.
“Did I expect it to be as volatile in terms of the feeling? No,” Hamilton said, reflecting on a first half-season that’s moved quicker than the Ferrari pit gantry lights. “But that’s life… I’m really trying not to worry about tomorrow. I want to be present and enjoy every moment. My first Monza in Ferrari red — leaving the garage here is going to be incredibly special.”
If the Mercedes-to-Ferrari move was the sport’s big winter headline, its 2025 sequel has been messier: a car whose sweet spot is a little elusive, a team still learning how to get the most out of Hamilton’s method, and Hamilton learning the Maranello way. Team boss Fred Vasseur has already admitted both sides underestimated the size of the adaptation. Hamilton agrees, without flinching.
“There are cultural differences,” he said. “Fred made a comment that perhaps they underestimated me joining the team and the year we’ve been faced with in terms of the problems with the car. But the harder it is, the better it can make you. We’ll be stronger having gone through this tough first six months.”
That’s the thing about Monza. It isn’t just a race; it’s a mirror. Drivers see exactly where they are — on outright speed, on harmony, on nerve. For Hamilton, it’s also a childhood dream made real: the Ferrari suit, the sea of red beneath the old grandstand, the echo of Schumacher’s years in the trees. He’s leaning into it, not away.
“I grew up watching Michael win here,” he said. “Now I get to be on the receiving end of the tifosi. I want to give them absolutely everything this weekend.”
What does “everything” look like from P-whatever after that grid drop? Probably something rugged: a clean start, a long first stint if Ferrari’s tyre life allows, patience through the DRS trains, and a bit of old Hamilton race craft to turn a midfield fight into decent points. The one-lap picture has improved; the Sunday picture is still looking for a full frame.
Inside Maranello, the word is stability. The group around Hamilton — engineers, strategists, the small circle that matters — is settling, and he’s adamant he’s got “the best people” around him to climb the hill. The mid-term horizon is no secret either. Everyone’s got one eye on 2026, when the chassis and power unit reset could knock the board over for real. Opportunity lives there, and Hamilton knows it.
But that’s tomorrow. Monza is today. And after the early turbulence, the signs of a driver finding his pitch with a new orchestra feel more relevant than the scoreboard. He’s closer to Leclerc on pace. He sounds lighter. He’s not pretending it’s easy.
Asked if this is the toughest season of his career, Hamilton sidestepped the label. He’s had plenty of rough rides — 2009’s hangover, the leaner 2010-2011 patch, the grind of 2022-2023. This one’s different because it’s so personal. He chose Ferrari. He chose the pressure. And he’s all-in on the climb.
The tifosi don’t need a sermon. They need a show. Hamilton’s got a penalty to serve and a point to prove. If the rollercoaster’s taught him anything, it’s how quickly a weekend can flip. At Monza, under the flags and flares, momentum doesn’t whisper. It roars.
