The fans who booed Nico Rosberg on the Belgian Grand Prix podium came in for criticism. But EDD STRAW argues that F1 has to accept it if it's serious about improving the so-called show
Fan engagement, or the lack of it, has become a preoccupation in Formula 1 this season.
So it seems perverse that, when a group of fans made their feelings towards Nico Rosberg known by booing during the Belgian Grand Prix podium ceremony, there was widespread hand-wringing about how terrible this was.
Personally, I'm not a big fan of booing at sporting events and never have been. But there's an important distinction to be drawn between an individual thinking they would not have done something and arguing that others should not be allowed to do it.
That's why it's wrong to suggest that those who have paid out serious money to go to the race and made their way to the podium should not be allowed to express themselves. You can disagree with them doing it, but not that they should be able to do so.
While this right clearly does not extend to abusive, threatening or violent behaviour, booing in this context is the stuff of pantomime and comes with the territory in high-profile sport. Provided it does not go beyond that, it's a part of 'the show' that everyone keeps saying needs to be improved.
One of the big problems F1 faces is that the organic centre of the cars is invisible. That's why FOM broadcasts in-race radio - to remind those watching who find it difficult to engage with what can sometimes appear a cold engineering exercise rather than a sport that there is flesh and blood at the heart of the machine.
Vettel has also been booed in the past © LAT |
It's not easy to relate to grand prix drivers whether sat in the grandstands or watching on screen. But the podium is one of the few opportunities for the small percentage of the crowd at the track that can get close enough to it to express themselves and, in some tiny way, get involved in the narrative of a sport that can often seem so distant.
One of the reasons football is the most popular spectator sport in the world is because of its immediacy and the fact that those at the ground have their role to play.
While sometimes this spills over into thuggish behaviour, the crowd can at least become genuinely emotionally invested in what they are seeing. At a time when there are concerns over dwindling audiences, this is no bad thing.
It doesn't mean that F1 needs football-style tribalism, far from it, but a little audience participation isn't a bad thing, especially after a controversial incident. After all, a clash between world championship contenders has always been big box-office; just look at the Alain Prost/Ayrton Senna collisions at Suzuka in 1989 and 1990.
Motorsport is clearly a little different to football. One of its great appeals is that it's not an overtly national-based sport. Yes, in earlier times cars did carry the colours of countries, but the fact that this was gradually phased out is proof that it never really fitted in with the tribal narrative that pervades many other sports.
While it's certainly plausible that many of those booing Rosberg were British fans of Lewis Hamilton, there's no way to be sure of this. Even if they were, and there were signs during the era of Sebastian Vettel's domination that he was all-too-easily painted as the villain in Britain because of his nationality, in this instance Rosberg was presumably being booed for what happened on-track rather than his passport.
But the non-tribal nature of F1 can also be one of its great weaknesses, in that it can make it more difficult for fans to become emotionally invested in it. There are some hardcore fans of certain drivers, and a second, seemingly smaller group, who get behind race teams, but in the absence of any accurate data on this, it seems probable that there are far more 'neutral' fans in F1 than other sports of comparable profile.
F1's popularity has more been built on rivalries; on heroes and villains. It's difficult to have one without the other. After all, if you don't have the bad guys, all you have is just a range of heroes, which hardly has mass appeal.
While that is the case intellectually, as the 22 drivers on the grid at Spa, even the worst ones, are superbly able professionals who operate at an incredibly high level, emotionally it's not. Fans should have the chance to cheer on who they like, heckle those they don't, praise those they rate and dismiss those they don't even if it's not a mindset we all share.
Did Hamilton tell the press too much at Spa? © LAT |
After all, the booing that greeted Rosberg on the podium made what is usually a homogenised and predictable ceremony much more memorable than it would otherwise have been.
As has often been said, as soon as you charge people to watch, your sport moves into the realms of entertainment. F1, for all of the politics, intrigue, money and business that infests, still does remain a sport at heart. For it to thrive, it needs to have a mass following.
But if you want it to be popular, it has to be on terms that suit the audience. That means you have to allow the scope for that audience to show opprobrium or approval in equal measure.
Drivers have to accept that and, on some occasions, be willing to play up to the crowd. While drivers are there to race, rather than to be crowd-pleasers, they must recognise that they have a huge role to play in the popularity of F1.
So while Hamilton has been criticised in some quarters for revealing his interpretation of what Rosberg said about the incident in private after the race, he has actually made a big contribution to keeping F1 in the headlines for the next few days.
You can argue that those headlines are negative, but those consuming sports media are usually far more engaged when there is controversy than when there is simply a great sporting spectacle without any edge to it. That doesn't mean that controversy should be artificially created, but when it happens, make the most of it like so many other sports do.
In that context, a few boos that aren't compatible with the old Corinthian ideals of sporting competition are hardly the end of the world.
The fans who booed Nico Rosberg on the Belgian Grand Prix podium came in for criticism. But EDD STRAW argues that F1 has to accept it if it's serious about improving the so-called show
Fan engagement, or the lack of it, has become a preoccupation in Formula 1 this season.
So it seems perverse that, when a group of fans made their feelings towards Nico Rosberg known by booing during the Belgian Grand Prix podium ceremony, there was widespread hand-wringing about how terrible this was.
Personally, I'm not a big fan of booing at sporting events and never have been. But there's an important distinction to be drawn between an individual thinking they would not have done something and arguing that others should not be allowed to do it.
That's why it's wrong to suggest that those who have paid out serious money to go to the race and made their way to the podium should not be allowed to express themselves. You can disagree with them doing it, but not that they should be able to do so.
While this right clearly does not extend to abusive, threatening or violent behaviour, booing in this context is the stuff of pantomime and comes with the territory in high-profile sport. Provided it does not go beyond that, it's a part of 'the show' that everyone keeps saying needs to be improved.
One of the big problems F1 faces is that the organic centre of the cars is invisible. That's why FOM broadcasts in-race radio - to remind those watching who find it difficult to engage with what can sometimes appear a cold engineering exercise rather than a sport that there is flesh and blood at the heart of the machine.
Vettel has also been booed in the past © LAT |
It's not easy to relate to grand prix drivers whether sat in the grandstands or watching on screen. But the podium is one of the few opportunities for the small percentage of the crowd at the track that can get close enough to it to express themselves and, in some tiny way, get involved in the narrative of a sport that can often seem so distant.
One of the reasons football is the most popular spectator sport in the world is because of its immediacy and the fact that those at the ground have their role to play.
While sometimes this spills over into thuggish behaviour, the crowd can at least become genuinely emotionally invested in what they are seeing. At a time when there are concerns over dwindling audiences, this is no bad thing.
It doesn't mean that F1 needs football-style tribalism, far from it, but a little audience participation isn't a bad thing, especially after a controversial incident. After all, a clash between world championship contenders has always been big box-office; just look at the Alain Prost/Ayrton Senna collisions at Suzuka in 1989 and 1990.
Motorsport is clearly a little different to football. One of its great appeals is that it's not an overtly national-based sport. Yes, in earlier times cars did carry the colours of countries, but the fact that this was gradually phased out is proof that it never really fitted in with the tribal narrative that pervades many other sports.
While it's certainly plausible that many of those booing Rosberg were British fans of Lewis Hamilton, there's no way to be sure of this. Even if they were, and there were signs during the era of Sebastian Vettel's domination that he was all-too-easily painted as the villain in Britain because of his nationality, in this instance Rosberg was presumably being booed for what happened on-track rather than his passport.
But the non-tribal nature of F1 can also be one of its great weaknesses, in that it can make it more difficult for fans to become emotionally invested in it. There are some hardcore fans of certain drivers, and a second, seemingly smaller group, who get behind race teams, but in the absence of any accurate data on this, it seems probable that there are far more 'neutral' fans in F1 than other sports of comparable profile.
F1's popularity has more been built on rivalries; on heroes and villains. It's difficult to have one without the other. After all, if you don't have the bad guys, all you have is just a range of heroes, which hardly has mass appeal.
While that is the case intellectually, as the 22 drivers on the grid at Spa, even the worst ones, are superbly able professionals who operate at an incredibly high level, emotionally it's not. Fans should have the chance to cheer on who they like, heckle those they don't, praise those they rate and dismiss those they don't even if it's not a mindset we all share.
Did Hamilton tell the press too much at Spa? © LAT |
After all, the booing that greeted Rosberg on the podium made what is usually a homogenised and predictable ceremony much more memorable than it would otherwise have been.
As has often been said, as soon as you charge people to watch, your sport moves into the realms of entertainment. F1, for all of the politics, intrigue, money and business that infests, still does remain a sport at heart. For it to thrive, it needs to have a mass following.
But if you want it to be popular, it has to be on terms that suit the audience. That means you have to allow the scope for that audience to show opprobrium or approval in equal measure.
Drivers have to accept that and, on some occasions, be willing to play up to the crowd. While drivers are there to race, rather than to be crowd-pleasers, they must recognise that they have a huge role to play in the popularity of F1.
So while Hamilton has been criticised in some quarters for revealing his interpretation of what Rosberg said about the incident in private after the race, he has actually made a big contribution to keeping F1 in the headlines for the next few days.
You can argue that those headlines are negative, but those consuming sports media are usually far more engaged when there is controversy than when there is simply a great sporting spectacle without any edge to it. That doesn't mean that controversy should be artificially created, but when it happens, make the most of it like so many other sports do.
In that context, a few boos that aren't compatible with the old Corinthian ideals of sporting competition are hardly the end of the world.
