Lewis Hamilton’s insistence that he “can’t believe” he’s second in the Drivers’ Championship lands with a bit more weight this season, because it isn’t the usual humblebrag from a driver pretending not to notice the obvious. Ferrari still hasn’t given him a Grand Prix win in 2026, the deficit to Kimi Antonelli remains a chunky 66 points, and yet the table says Hamilton is the closest thing the championship has to a credible irritant to Mercedes’ early authority.
That tension — results without the ultimate reward, and a standings position that looks better than the car sometimes does — is exactly why Hamilton sounds both upbeat and faintly incredulous. The shift away from the previous era’s ground-effect dependency and into the current overbody aero philosophy, alongside the new engine formula, has clearly played into his hands. He looks like a driver who’s found familiar reference points again, even if the stopwatch hasn’t always been kind.
The numbers tell the story of a season that’s quietly come together. Hamilton ended his long wait for a Ferrari podium with third in China, then backed it up with second places in Canada and Monaco. Those are not token top-threes either — they’ve carried real championship value because the rest of the field has been busy tripping over itself.
Monaco, in particular, did more than just move him up the order. It was also a little moment of leverage inside Ferrari. Hamilton outqualified Charles Leclerc on Leclerc’s home weekend, and he was in front on track before a crash on the restart after a Safety Car effectively killed Leclerc’s chance of fighting back. In a team where perception tends to metastasise into narrative at an alarming pace, that’s the sort of weekend that gets filed away by everyone from engineers to senior management.
Hamilton arrived in Monaco fourth in the standings after Canada; he left it second, jumping not only Leclerc but also George Russell. That 18-point haul looks even more significant when you consider Ferrari still isn’t operating from a position of outright performance strength.
“I mean, it couldn’t be closer, but it’s still 66 points,” Hamilton said in Monaco. “I can’t believe that I’m second in the championship and I’m really happy and thankful for that.
“I couldn’t have done that without this team, without the reliability that we have, and also with Fred [Vasseur].”
There was something revealing in how he framed it. Hamilton didn’t talk about a magic setup direction or a driving breakthrough; he talked about the organisational stuff — support, follow-through, and changes he’d “begged” for.
“Fred has been awesome in supporting me,” he continued. “I think last year was really tough for both of us and [I’ve been] begging him for certain changes, and he pulled through and he did those, and now I’m seeing the fruits of that, and I’m able to finally deliver for them.”
In other words, this isn’t just Hamilton “feeling it” again. It’s Hamilton feeling listened to — and in a team like Ferrari, that can be the difference between momentum and inertia. The subtext is hard to miss: his current championship position is as much an argument for his internal influence as it is a reflection of his driving.
Still, Monaco also underlined the uncomfortable truth Ferrari can’t spin away with a couple of podium photos. Antonelli was untouchable. In a race that’s usually about controlling the pace and guarding track position, the Mercedes driver treated it like an exercise in dominance, building enough of a margin to lap everyone except the two Ferraris behind him.
Hamilton finished second, but it didn’t feel like second in the way Monaco sometimes does — the kind of second where the winner is boxed in by geography and strategy. This was second with a clear visual gap to the front.
“The performance they have is next level,” Hamilton admitted.
He framed the defeat as useful, which is classic Hamilton: take the pain, turn it into direction, and hand it back to the factory as a shopping list.
“It was a good experience because it gives me a much better idea of where I need to have the team lean and improve, not only from what I’m feeling but what I’m seeing as well,” he said. “And yeah, there’s lots of things that we need to be adding to this car.
“Just general performance. Downforce-wise, clearly they’re above us. Obviously on power, here the power is not such an issue. It’s just downforce. You could see just on traction those guys were night and day different to us.”
That’s the key line, because it cuts through the usual post-race politeness. Monaco is supposed to be the circuit where you can hide a few weaknesses with track position and precision. If Hamilton is talking about Mercedes being “night and day” better on traction there, it’s a sign Ferrari’s baseline aero grip — and the way it translates into drive off slow speed — still isn’t where it needs to be.
Hamilton insists it’s early, and he’s right. He also made a point that will resonate with anyone who’s watched enough title fights to know how quickly they can turn: chasing is psychologically cleaner than defending.
“I think it’s still very early days in the season, so we just have to keep chasing,” he said. “It’s actually easier to chase than it is to defend, I would say, in life.
“And so, whilst these guys [Mercedes] are very quick and they’re an amazing team, we’re going to keep pushing, keep chasing, and I have no doubt at some stage we’re going to get there.”
For Ferrari, the immediate question isn’t whether Hamilton can win in red — it’s whether the SF-26 can be turned from “podium-capable on good weekends” into something that can actually pressure Antonelli on merit. Hamilton sitting second without a victory is both a compliment and a warning: it shows how well he’s maximised what’s been available, and how much bigger the prize could be if Ferrari finds the downforce and traction he’s openly calling for.
Right now, the championship picture is simple. Antonelli has built a real cushion. Hamilton is the one unexpectedly close enough to matter. And Ferrari, as ever, is living in that familiar space between promise and proof.
