Brundle: The moment Red Bull went quiet, Verstappen went calm — and very, very fast
Martin Brundle didn’t need telemetry to spot the change. Once Red Bull finally drew a line under the Christian Horner saga, Max Verstappen looked different. Lighter. Sharper. And in the second half of 2025, ruthless again.
Horner’s dismissal came like a thunderclap after the British Grand Prix, ending more than two decades in charge and an 18‑month spell of headlines that never seemed to stop. The fallout had been messy: two internal investigations into Horner that cleared him, a running cold war with Jos Verstappen, and the constant drip of off‑track noise that followed the team everywhere. The exhale was audible when it ended.
“I observe Formula 1. That’s my job,” Brundle said. “I think Max has been a lot more relaxed since that happened, because there was all the tension. His dad was firing in all sorts of things, and Max was constantly being asked questions about it.”
The timing wasn’t subtle. With Laurent Mekies stepping in and the static turned down, Red Bull found clean air. The car woke up, the mood shifted, and Verstappen went on a tear: six wins and a 100% podium run after the break that yanked him from 104 points behind to within two at the flag in Abu Dhabi. That’s not a recovery, that’s an ambush.
Plenty inside the team will point to the RB21’s aerodynamic energising — Brundle did too — but the human element mattered. Verstappen, insulated from the constant crossfire and, intriguingly, still in regular contact with Horner, started to smell blood again. “That was a pivotal point in his year,” Brundle said. You didn’t need the Sky pad to read that one.
If you’re handing out credits for the turnaround, the ledger’s long. Mekies and the garage steadied the ship. The factory found its stride. And yes, as Brundle acknowledged, you can’t talk about what Red Bull is without nodding to what Horner built. But the driver is the spear tip, and Verstappen’s was back to a polished edge.
Then there’s Barcelona.
For all his late‑season perfection, Verstappen knows — and Brundle happily reminded — that one flash of the red mist cost him dearly. The Spanish Grand Prix collision with George Russell came with a 10‑second penalty and, by Brundle’s math, 11 points ripped out of a title fight defined by single digits. It’s the sort of moment that keeps drivers awake and analysts chatty.
“You can’t cherry pick the bits you like of great sporting champions,” Brundle said. “They come as a package. When Max gets the red mist, as he did that day, it cost him.”
Verstappen didn’t duck it. He later called it a mistake, and he sounded more irritated with himself than with Russell or the pit wall. The picture he painted was pure Verstappen: a refusal to down tools when the car’s misbehaving, an instinct to push to the line even when the smart play is to step back a half‑step.
“I can’t accept, towards myself, stepping out of the car and knowing that I didn’t give everything,” he said. “That’s why I was so angry in Barcelona… That was a mistake from my side, and of course I learn from it.”
It’s that duality that’s defined Verstappen’s 2025. The ceiling is obvious. So is the cost when the needle flickers into the red. Strip the drama away at Red Bull and he looked composed, clinical, inevitable. Add one emotional misread and the title slips by two points in Abu Dhabi. Margins, margins, margins.
All of which frames next season rather neatly. If Red Bull’s politics stay off the front pages and Mekies’ group keeps delivering upgrades with this kind of hit rate, Verstappen won’t need a comeback act. He’ll just need to keep the visor fog‑free on days when the car asks for patience instead of fury.
Brundle’s verdict, boiled down, is simple: the calm made Max better. The numbers after the summer say the same. And when you’re that close to perfect, one Barcelona is one too many.
