The São Paulo Sprint at Interlagos was a short film of F1 in its purest form: flashes of brilliance, soaked kerbs, and a race director apparently watching a different broadcast. Lando Norris won it with quiet ruthlessness, Kimi Antonelli announced himself again, and a 57-G crash reminded everyone why modern safety is a miracle of engineering rather than luck.
Lando the Meteorologist
From lap 1, Norris set the tone. He clipped the wet kerb through Turn 3 and launched a spray so precise it looked intentional, a “tactical water” line that turned his out-lap into a hazard for everyone behind. Antonelli’s onboard showed the spray in perfect slow motion, a move that felt equal parts Mario Kart and world-champion composure. He never looked back, literally or figuratively, and drove like someone who’d already seen the ending.
Lawson vs Bearman: The Chain Reaction
Chaos arrived immediately when Oliver Bearman pushed wide through Turn 4 and Liam Lawson tried to squeeze through the damp inside. Both paid the price: Bearman’s correction pinched Lawson onto the grass, Lawson caught him with the right-front, and Bearman spun. The stewards handed each five seconds and a penalty point, the bureaucratic equivalent of shrugging. It changed nothing in the order and reignited the argument that F1’s time penalties have lost their sting once you’re outside the points.
Multi-Car Mayhem
Moments later, Piastri, Hülkenberg, and Colapinto disappeared into the barriers. The kerbs were treacherous, the line still damp, and Interlagos once again proved that its elevation changes can turn a drizzle into disaster. Antonelli was already warning his engineers about water pooling where Norris had run earlier. The Safety Car came out, the tension stayed in.
The 57 G Lesson
Then came the moment that froze the paddock. Gabriel Bortoleto, in his first home sprint, lost the rear at 300 km/h and slammed the Turn 1 wall with a 57-G impact, harder than Verstappen’s Silverstone crash in 2021. The steering column sheared off, the car briefly airborne, the halo’s support bar the only thing keeping the wheel tethered. And yet, minutes later, Bortoleto was sprinting down pit lane after being cleared.
That image, the broken Sauber under a tarp, the driver running past it, said more about modern safety than any press release could. The halo, HANS, seat shells, and deformable structures did their jobs flawlessly. Forty years ago that would have been a fatality; today, it was a rebuild order. Sauber began assembling a new chassis before the wreck even returned to the garage. They’ll be lucky to have it ready before Qualifying.
Max & GP: Competitive Couples Therapy
Even amid the chaos, Verstappen’s radio delivered another masterclass in dysfunctional functionality. GP tried to offer corrections; Max barked back about grip. GP persisted anyway, calmly reminding him that “whether you take the recommendations or not is up to you.” It’s the same blunt trust that defines their partnership, a dynamic that works precisely because neither backs down. They sound like an old married couple, but the rhythm is perfect: GP’s dry sarcasm keeps Max from spiraling, and Max’s aggression keeps GP razor-sharp. Every great driver needs someone who refuses to yield.
Rolling Logic
When the track finally cleared, Race Control went for a rolling restart rather than a standing start. Officially it was for safety; unofficially, it looked like risk management. Only one side of the grid was fully dry, which could have created a huge imbalance into Turn 1, but the call still felt like over-correction. The track was drying fast, and the field wanted lights. Instead, we got a slow roll and instant DRS, turning the middle laps into formation running. The sprint format keeps promising excitement; the rulebook keeps strangling it.
Cameras in All the Wrong Places
If the racing was subdued, the broadcast direction made sure to miss what little action there was. The feed cut away from Leclerc’s move on Alonso just as they reached the corner, and Gasly’s pass on Stroll for the final point only appeared as a mini-screen footnote. After weeks of praise for improved coverage, Interlagos was a relapse.
Mercedes Power Everywhere
When it finally settled, Norris, Antonelli, and Russell completed a clean podium sweep, giving Mercedes engines four of the top five spots. Verstappen salvaged fourth after a near-identical slide to Piastri’s crash, saved only by absurd car control and throttle discipline, while Leclerc nursed dying softs to fifth. Alonso fought to sixth before his DRS train evaporated, Hamilton charged from P11 to seventh, Gasly’s P8 broke Alpine’s eight-race drought, Stroll took ninth (“so close to a Stroint”), and rookie Isack Hadjar rounded out the points.
Kimi and Russell’s consistency kept Mercedes smiling, but it was Gasly’s quiet breakthrough that stood out: the first points for Alpine since midsummer, earned with clean driving and a well-timed setup call.
Perspective and Aftermath
Bortoleto’s crash will be the enduring image, a violent reminder of how brutal Interlagos can be and how extraordinary current F1 safety truly is. Around it, the grid played its usual theatre: Norris unflappable, Verstappen and GP locked in their private sitcom, and another sprint where procedure overshadowed spectacle.
Still, between “tactical water,” blunt radio honesty, and a field that somehow survived everything the circuit threw at them, the Brazilian Sprint captured the sport’s contradictions perfectly: elite precision running headlong into chaos.
2025 São Paulo GP Sprint Final Results
- Lando Norris
- Kimi Antonelli
- George Russell
- Max Verstappen
- Charles Leclerc
- Fernando Alonso
- Lewis Hamilton
- Pierre Gasly
- Lance Stroll
- Isack Hadjar
Norris engineered victory and his own weather system. Antonelli confirmed he’s no longer the “future” but the present. Bortoleto’s crash tested every safety innovation and passed. The sprint format remains confused, but Interlagos once again reminded everyone why Formula 1 survives on chaos, sarcasm, and a little bit of courage.