Norris on doing it “his way” — and why a few barbs at Verstappen and Hamilton still sting
Lando Norris has never looked like the elbows-out caricature of a Formula 1 champion. In a season that asked plenty from his nerve and even more from his judgment, the McLaren driver took the 2025 crown without turning himself into something he isn’t. He’s proud of that — and honest enough to admit he winced at a few things he said along the way.
In the weeks since sealing his first title, Norris has been reflecting on the route he chose. It wasn’t the ruthlessly aggressive path some expect of serial winners. McLaren kept faith with a fair-fight policy between Norris and Oscar Piastri, and Norris kept faith with his own compass: measured on Sundays, relentless over a season, and rarely the first to throw a shoulder into a closing gap.
“That’s what makes me most proud,” he said. “I won it the way I wanted to win it, without trying to be someone else.”
It’s a line that cuts through an era defined by opportunists and overtakes on the edge. Verstappen at Red Bull built his legend on uncompromising racecraft. Lewis Hamilton — now a Ferrari man — amassed seven titles with a piercing mix of speed, guile and authority in combat. Norris isn’t pretending he’s that driver. He’s not apologizing for it either.
What he does feel sorry about, though, are a handful of comments he lobbed during a tense year, when the microphones were still hot and the adrenaline hadn’t faded.
“I know I’ve said some stupid things,” Norris admitted. “Some things about Max, some things about Lewis… there are things I regret and wish I could take back.”
The list isn’t long, but fans can pick out the flashpoints. Norris wasn’t shy about questioning Verstappen’s tactics at times, or swatting back when the Red Bull camp suggested Max would have had this title wrapped up already if he’d been the one in the McLaren. Norris’ answer then — that Verstappen “doesn’t have a clue” about certain things and that Red Bull “talk a lot of nonsense” — was the kind of needle you notice in a close fight.
Hamilton, meanwhile, was on the receiving end of a needling remark in a 2024 cooldown room, when Norris quipped about him having had a “fast car seven years ago.” Even if it was said with a smile, Norris can see now how that plays on repeat out of context.
Much of this, he says, is the heat of competition talking. “By the time I’ve said it, I’m like, ‘Why did I just say that?’” There’s no big walk-back, just an acknowledgement that the words got away from him.
It matters because respect matters. Norris went out of his way to underline just that — for Piastri, for Verstappen, and especially for Hamilton: “He’s a seven-time World Champion. He’s the best driver. You compare him to Schumacher. I’m not even close to that. I might never be. I dream of those things.”
He’s taken the first step. The McLaren project that surged so dramatically into title contention last season delivered the big prize this time, with Norris holding off pressure from both sides of the grid — the unrelenting presence of Verstappen’s Red Bull and the sharpening Ferrari attack with Hamilton now in red. Per the 2025 entry list, it’s a heavyweight cast around him; this wasn’t a title won on a quiet stage.
What makes Norris’ year interesting is how little of it felt performative. No wild reinvention, no mid-season pivot to hardman tactics. Andrea Stella, the team principal who’s quietly become one of the paddock’s most trusted voices, has encouraged Norris to stay “Lando,” which is to say precise, pragmatic, and ruthless only when it’s necessary. The champion agrees.
“I kept my cool. I kept to myself. I focused on getting the most out of how I am,” Norris said. “If I’d forced it, been more of that person people think you need to be, I’d be less proud.”
There’s also a line here about noise. Norris has never been one for the spin cycle, and he’s learned to live with the chatter — even when the headlines sharpen. “Do I hate when you write crap about me? I do,” he said with a grin. “But I’ve learned to live with it. Everyone has their opinion.”
The upshot of a title is that the only opinions that really count now are in papaya. Norris made that clear: the voice in his own helmet and the ones on the McLaren pit wall carry the weight. He wanted to prove something to himself as much as to the sport — that he could beat this field without shape-shifting into another archetype, that his brand of racing stands up under championship pressure.
So he did. Not with fireworks every Sunday, but with that steady hum of decisive execution. And when he did step on a rake with a stray jab at a rival, he owned it. In a season of big swings and bigger statements, that might be the most telling one of all.
