Writing after Kimi Antonelli’s much-lauded win in the Monaco Grand Prix, one can’t escape the thought that perhaps the fuss accorded to his admittedly notable success is rather disproportionate.
I grew up as a great fan of the Monaco circuit and of its annual Grand Prix. But I must confess that after the Graham Hill years there, and my first few visits, much of the – ahem – ‘charm’ wore off. Almost all that was left was wonderment that the race is still run at all for modern Formula 1 cars.
Even though this year’s breed are more compact than the great gormless devices of the earlier 2020s, there is no doubt that real racing around the Monte Carlo streets is almost impossible. Surely the abiding inability to overtake destroys one of motor racing’s defining prerequisites?
Of course that has never troubled the winner of qualifying, as long as he has made a decent start. That the ‘tousle-headed teen’ from Bologna most certainly did. The calmly assured nature of his drive was a lesson to his older rivals. Martin Brundle’s assessment of this fifth consecutive 2026 GP victory for the Mercedes team’s young star – “we are seeing a generational talent” – seemed (with the evidence currently available to us) spot on.
That said, wasn’t this year’s Monaco GP otherwise a chaotic farce, especially once the partially-resurfaced track entering the Antony Noghès Corner (sorry, aka ‘Turn 19’) began to disintegrate? While one was hardly surprised to see the hapless Lance Stroll taking a header into the outer barrier in his outclassed – and serially disappointing – Aston Martin AMR26, it was a surprising wrench to see Charles Leclerc follow him into the barrier in the apparently near-brakeless Ferrari. Add the race’s pitlane speed limit infringements, and more penalties than a kids’ soccer match… and dearie me.
A few years ago, the Monaco jamboree came perilously close to being run as an IndyCar qualifying round. One can’t help feeling that as F1 develops ever-more American traits in terms of celebrity adoration, then Monaco has long led the naff slide in that direction.
Monaco took early prominence within the moneyed world of high-quality motoring. The nearby timed hillclimb from Nice up to La Turbie was a highly competitive challenge for society heroes from as early as 1897. There in 1900 the luckless works Daimler tester and engine specialist Wilhelm Bauer crashed fatally, after allegedly swerving to avoid errant spectators. His ‘nervous’ short-wheelbase and top-heavy Daimler was replaced by Wilhelm Maybach’s trendsetting ‘35hp’ design which became marketed as the first Mercedes. But the exotic new marque’s record suffered another blow in 1903 when Count Elliott Zborowski crashed his fatally on the climb.
While working-class Bauer had supposedly sacrificed his life while furthering the newfangled cause of the costly motor car, titled gent Zborowski’s death was treated as a great tragedy for high society’s most dizzyingly heroic level.
In 1911 the Monte Carlo Rally launched, attracting that high society to Monaco (and most vitally to its Casino) in deep mid-winter. Progressively the Mont Agel hillclimb – two and a half miles north of Monte Carlo harbour – took precedence from La Turbie during an annual Semaine Monégasque de l’Automobile. Into the late ’20s the Automobile Club de Monaco was formed. Its president was Antony Noghès (after whom this year’s Stroll/Leclerc corner is named). He is credited for conceiving Monaco’s course dans la cité, first run in 1929; Antonelli has become its youngest winner.
“Brundle’s reproof, ‘Don’t push me, I’m nearly famous…’ was masterly”
It was telling to see Martin Brundle during his TV grid walk being ignored by some celebs, engaged by others. He showed great form when shoved by some energised security heavy: and his surprisingly gentle reproof “Don’t push me, I’m nearly famous…” was masterly.
I think what began my own disaffection with Monaco was the sight of the retired Jackie Stewart trying to extract stereotypical elation from Tyrrell’s 1978 GP winner Patrick Depailler. “Patrick”, Jackie exclaimed, “this must be the greatest day of your life!” Laid back Depailler thought carefully before responding: “Well – one of them, certainly…”
