The manhole saga returns, communication collapses, and FP2 becomes a stress-test of the Strip itself
Free Practice 2 at the 2025 Las Vegas Grand Prix immediately dissolved into the exact nightmare scenario everyone hoped would never repeat: another loose manhole cover. The entire sequence unfolded with a kind of absurd inevitability, a marshal spotted movement at Turn 17, Race Control sent the red flag, the FIA initially acted as if nothing was wrong, the session resumed, and the marshal’s warning proved instantly correct as the cover visibly shifted again under load. That second confirmation finally ended the session outright.
The striking part wasn’t just the infrastructure failure, it was the complete absence of information from the broadcast booth. Those at the circuit were left with no explanation for minutes at a time. Even on F1’s official broadcast, there was a puzzling reluctance to acknowledge what was happening. Instead of addressing the obvious, cameras cut elsewhere, commentary offered nothing, and the silence only highlighted the sensitivity around this event, which is wholly run by FOM and carries enormous financial weight for Liberty Media. It was another example of the odd communication gap that emerges whenever Vegas has issues: a hesitancy to call out the most basic safety failures of a race directly promoted and operated by the commercial rights holder.
Meanwhile, the Sphere, ironically, became the single clearest piece of communication in the entire operation. Its massive red flag display was more informative than the official broadcast. Offsite traffic cameras, just like in 2023, again became the most transparent live window into track repairs. Watching crews gather around the problem spot, with one person actively fixing the closure mechanism while several others loitered nearby, resembled the same “union crew” workflow jokes that surfaced the last time Vegas ran into these issues.
A return to the Strip’s recurring design flaw
By the FIA’s later explanation, a fault in the closure mechanism allowed the cover at Turn 17 to move when cars passed over it. That movement wasn’t detectable via CCTV, which is why the marshal’s firsthand report triggered the stoppage. After the session ended, FIA personnel confirmed the fault and welded the assembly. They also welded an additional fourteen manhole assemblies around the circuit that sit on or near the racing line, a staggering number that underlines how widespread the risk was.
What makes the situation even more frustrating is that this track is operated by the two most powerful entities in the sport, FOM as the promoter and the FIA as the governing body, yet this is the third year in which the Strip’s street infrastructure has posed major risks. In 2023, Carlos Sainz’s Ferrari was violently destroyed by a loose drain cover, ripping the floor clean off, damaging the tub, and temporarily sidelining the team in a way that impacted both the WDC and constructors’ standings. Even then, a marshal was the one who spotted the movement when the FIA’s inspections hadn’t. The fact that a similar issue appeared again in 2025, after two years of lessons and hundreds of millions invested, raises questions about basic diligence.
Street circuits always carry heightened risk because of manhole covers, utility hatches, temporary welds, and the sheer number of access points built into public roads. The Strip, in particular, is prone to these failures because cars run along long, flat, high-speed sections that place enormous suction and impact loads on the surface. Drain and manhole failures have occurred in Baku, Monaco, Malaysia, and elsewhere, but Vegas already has a reputation for it, and this year only further cements the pattern.
The broader structural problem
Part of the challenge is that manholes aren’t designed for the aerodynamic suction of an F1 car. Welds can fail, concrete collars can crack, entire assemblies can lift out of the asphalt, and temporary reinforcements often rely on rushed overnight work because the Strip remains open to public traffic during the day. Even strong welds won’t prevent a full assembly from tearing free if the surrounding structure fails. Installing bolted covers or engineering fully race-specific plates would require significant buy-in from city and state agencies, which may have strict rules for temporary modifications to storm drains and sewer access points.
There’s also a larger tension at play: Las Vegas is FOM’s commercial jewel. Because the event is run by the commercial rights holder rather than an independent promoter, there’s always a perception that the narrative is managed more delicately on the broadcast side. That was obvious again today: even after the FIA published its initial guidance, F1TV waited noticeably longer before acknowledging the cause. Transparency lagged. Meanwhile, independent commentary easily identified what was happening based on the track’s history.
The moment inevitably reopened the street-circuit debate. On one hand, the suggestion that “dedicated, permanent circuits without manholes” would solve this is technically correct, on the other, permanent circuits aren’t immune to failures either, and Las Vegas has actually produced strong races despite organizational chaos. Complaints about street circuits tend to overlook that Baku, Jeddah, Montreal, Miami, and even Vegas itself often produce more overtaking than some of the classic permanent venues. But the optics of another infrastructure failure at the sport’s most expensive event are difficult to defend.
A surreal detour underground
FP2 also triggered an unexpected tangent as the discussion veered into the storm drains beneath the Strip, a network of tunnels housing over a thousand people. With recent rainfall flooding sections of the system, there was a strangely sobering mental image of a welded manhole cover preventing exit while a Grand Prix unfolded above. It was an odd moment of real-world gravity threaded into the chaos of an already bizarre practice session.
FP2 times distorted by stoppages
Because both red flags hit during the moment teams began their soft-tire performance runs, the classification is almost meaningless. Only a handful of drivers completed representative laps on softs. Others were caught mid-sector when the second red flag was thrown, and several, including Verstappen and Hamilton, never got a proper soft run at all.
FP2 Top 10 (session-limited):
- Lando Norris – 1:33.602
- Kimi Antonelli
- Charles Leclerc
- Nico Hülkenberg
- Isack Hadjar
- Liam Lawson
- George Russell
- Alexander Albon
- Max Verstappen
- Lewis Hamilton
Norris and Antonelli set their times on softs, Leclerc’s was on mediums, and George’s final attempt was aborted mid-corner. The order says far more about timing than performance, a point underlined by the fact that Colapinto matched the fastest FP1 lap even on a night when most couldn’t complete push laps.
Still, it produced an entertaining round of premature conclusions: confidently declaring a Norris title, predicting a Hulkenberg podium, or joking that Yuki Tsunoda’s FP1 “podium” lap is now forever safe. The absurdity of the session only encouraged more of this kind of tongue-in-cheek overreaction.
Leclerc’s gearbox scare
Charles Leclerc’s session-ending stoppage added another twist. He immediately sensed something breaking, asked whether he could shift, and was firmly told not to. The reaction was equal parts concern and gallows humor about the fragility of Ferrari machinery, a running theme whenever technical gremlins appear. With gearbox limits scrapped for 2025, there are no direct sporting penalties for replacements, but Ferrari will still need to open and inspect the unit to determine the severity. Cost-cap implications remain possible depending on repairs.
The lasting takeaway
More than anything, FP2 felt like a structural stress test of the Strip itself. It forced a second look at the event’s logistics, the broadcast tone, the inspection protocols, and the uneasy balance of responsibilities between FOM and the FIA. It also reinforced something fundamental: every street circuit carries inherent risks, but Las Vegas, uniquely, carries the burden of both infrastructure fragility and heightened commercial stakes.
As odd as it sounds, the session once again proved that Vegas doesn’t just produce racing chaos, it produces everything chaos: underground tunnels, welded manholes, communication breakdowns, infrastructure debates, and a practice session dominated by everything except actual running.
In other words, a perfectly on-brand Vegas Friday.