Racing dads: How a surname can both help and hinder an F1 career

Over in the entertainment world, it’s become fashionable to decry nepotism as the only way to catch a break these days. But in motor racing, taking up the family business is so common we barely blink when the latest ‘son of’ crops up (still not enough ‘daughters of’ though). Then again, I did blink at 7.30am last Sunday morning when I was walking through a hotel foyer and passed Emerson Fittipaldi and Emmo Jr heading out, on their way for a 9am Formula 3 race at MotorLand Aragón. At 77, the great man still can’t get enough, especially where his kids (and grandkids) are concerned.

But is nepotism really a thing in motor racing? Not really. Yes, a parent who has been there, done it and won a race or three can open a few doors, but the bottom line is they still have to find the hard cash to buy the eye-wateringly expensive drives – and then the kid must perform, whatever the surname. Actually, often because of the surname. A second or third-generation actor who can’t really act can perhaps fudge a career following a helpful leg-up. In sport, you get found out early – and stay found out. A famous racing driver parent can be more of a burden than an advantage.

They’re a fascinating breed too. Verstappen Sr is obviously an extreme example, but there have been others that have made me chuckle over the years. I well remember the buzz of meeting Jody Scheckter for the first time when his elder son Toby took his first steps in Formula Vauxhall Junior back in the late 1990s. “I can’t believe I’m back in the bottom paddock at Brands Hatch,” growled the 1979 world champion. He wasn’t smiling and he wasn’t nostalgic. What on earth was he doing back here?

But then on another occasion, for a Formula Opel Euroseries race at Zolder, Jody looked a little wistful – and started reminiscing about Gilles, reconnecting with a world he’d left behind. That was a moment.

Scheckter, always blunt, always honest – about himself as much as others – would probably admit he wasn’t the most patient racing dad. Team managers used to murmur how Toby usually performed better when his old man didn’t show up, whereas brother Tomas when he came through the ranks a year or two later appeared not to give a fig whether his dad was there or not. A proper chip off the old racing block.

Most ex-racing drivers who find themselves on the other side of the pitwall in this role can, in my experience, often be the most supportive and positive parents to budding talent. Because they’ve been there, they understand the pressure, the process – and when to step back. Again, just like good old John Button. He was the best archetype.

And there are plenty more like him that take an approach a little more… well, ‘comfortable’ than the Verstappen model.

The other week, at the back of the garages in Valencia, I caught up with 1988 Le Mans winner Jan Lammers. Formerly the most famous and successful racing driver to come out of the Netherlands, he’s well known for being a lovely chap – and as I found, the antithesis of the Verstappen racing dad. Jan was keeping out of the way after a practice session that had featured 38 teenage Formula 4 drivers – one of which was his 15-year-old car racing novice son, René.

“Before September he’d never touched a race car or a race track, not even Zandvoort,” said Jan, swelling with familiar parental pride. So, does he like what he sees? “Well, I see his spirit because he will try to pass you in a revolving door!” he smiled. “This is what I like. Apart from his driving skills, I wear the dad’s glasses of course.”

Then he added the key bit – the bit you look for from any supportive parent who also has both feet planted in the real world. “The only objective way to look at it for me is to look at the facts,” he said. “There are timesheets and results sheets. We’ve always been of the opinion that if we don’t win we do not progress to the next class, so we just have to clear the levels. No winning, no move up. He has to win races here before we do anything else.”

Racing dads are an essential part of the game, especially early on: as financiers, mechanics, as the person in your corner you can always count on. In some cases, the dynamics seem a little weird, but more often than not it’s heartening to see that parental bond in action. And for racing dads with their own racing past, it’s always fun when you see how much they relish reconnecting with their roots. The grit and sawdust of scrapping away in karting and then junior single-seaters takes them back to how it was when they were coming through. Fittipaldi made his rapid climb more than half a century ago, but he knows: in essence, it hasn’t really changed – even if the budgets have. Last Sunday as he left for the circuit with his boy, he looked in his element.

Perhaps even Scheckter enjoyed it sometimes. Actually, yes, I’m almost certain he did, even if he’ d never have admitted it. It never took much to make the old sour-puss break into a knowing smile. A decent lap time from Tomas – that would do it.