Free Practice 3 at the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez was a full-spectrum showcase of what modern F1 weekends have become, equal parts data science, emotional endurance test, and pure entertainment.
The session started even before the cars hit the track, with fans growing restless for the FP3 post itself. The delay became its own joke, a fitting preview for a weekend where everything felt slightly offbeat. Once the data began rolling in, it was Lando Norris who set the pace with a 1:16.633, leading Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Charles Leclerc, and Oscar Piastri. The rest of the top ten, Max Verstappen, Kimi Antonelli, Isack Hadjar, Yuki Tsunoda, and Gabriel Bortoleto—rounded out a surprisingly mixed order.
From there, the storylines splintered in classic FP3 fashion. Ferrari fans rode their usual pendulum of hope and heartbreak, joking about “6th and 7th incoming” and acknowledging that expecting disappointment is part of the ritual. Hamilton’s repeated practice form only heightened the emotional chaos; topping the early sessions has become a routine that’s equal parts promise and punishment. It’s hard not to laugh when even his supporters describe it as “emotional abuse.”
Up front, Norris’s lap drew admiration but also realism. Mexico’s long straight and heavy slipstream mean that pole position isn’t always the prize it seems, and several observers pointed out that a P2 or P3 start can actually be stronger for Turn 1. Still, with the papaya cars looking quick over race distance, confidence is quietly growing.
Verstappen’s session looked subdued, and practice data backed that up: the reigning champion was losing two to three tenths out of Turn 16 and a couple more on the straights. That data fed predictions that he might qualify low in Q3, though with the usual caveat that Verstappen often finds an extra half-second when it counts. When qualifying later bore that out (though not in his favor this time), the numbers earned a small moment of vindication. “Always trust the data,” became the running theme, though, as it turned out, the half-second advantage belonged to someone else.
Beyond the timesheets, the discussion turned to track records. The numbers suggested that neither the fastest lap nor the all-time record (since the 2015 layout) were under threat this weekend. Context matters: most of this season’s record-breaking laps came on resurfaced circuits like Spa, Monza, and Singapore. Mexico, by contrast, is showing its age. It sparked a side debate over whether Ricciardo’s 2019 1:14.758, set before Verstappen’s penalty for ignoring yellows, should still count. It technically does in F1’s official tables, a quirk that perfectly captures the sport’s love of technicalities.
While the data nerds argued, Alex Albon provided some on-track drama of his own, running wide and cutting Turn 14 through the Estadio section. The commentary around it became unintentionally comedic when Danica Patrick offered, “We call it the Stadium because it looks like a stadium,” an observation so bland it instantly turned viral. The real story, though, was that several drivers, including Carlos Sainz, were struggling with braking and grip through that same section, suggesting that the Williams in particular might have been right on the limit in the slower corners.
The session’s most memorable moment, however, belonged to Isack Hadjar. Heading into the hairpin, he let out an explosive burst of radio fury, “Pieeeeecchrrrhreeeee!,” that instantly entered the canon of great F1 outbursts. His engineer Pierre’s flustered but endearingly French response made the exchange even better. It was a reminder of how much personality Hadjar brings to the grid: a mix of raw speed, volatility, and charisma. As chaotic as it was, it also showed how quickly he’s growing into one of the sport’s most entertaining young characters.
Amid all that, Fernando Alonso quietly parked his car with a problem in the front-right corner. The team offered no details, only deepening the mystery. The unconfirmed theories ranged from setup gremlins to more tongue-in-cheek suggestions about “foreign objects” stuck in the suspension.
If FP3 was meant to clarify the competitive order, it failed beautifully. The timesheets said one thing, the data another, and everyone’s emotions something else entirely. Ferrari looked fragile but alive, McLaren confident yet cautious, Red Bull quietly plotting, and Hadjar loud enough to drown them all out.
In truth, the session captured exactly what makes Mexico City special: a circuit that refuses to be predictable, a fanbase that refuses to be calm, and a grid on the brink of chaos before qualifying has even begun. Practice might not mean much on paper, but here, it feels like everything.