Lewis Hamilton’s first season at Ferrari has finally broken him. The seven-time world champion admitted he feels an “unbearable amount of anger and rage” after his third consecutive Q1 elimination in Abu Dhabi. That’s four straight if you count Qatar’s sprint qualifying. Brilliant way to end your Ferrari honeymoon, that.
P16 on the grid. Zero podiums all season. A crash in FP3 just hours before qualifying. Hamilton’s finishing his Ferrari fairytale tour the same way he’s conducted most of the past three months: nowhere near the front, completely out of answers, and radiating the kind of fury that comes from realising you’ve made a catastrophic career mistake at 40 years old.
When asked how he felt after qualifying, Hamilton could barely string sentences together. “I don’t have the words to describe the feeling inside,” he whispered to Sky Sports. “An unbearable amount of anger and rage. There’s not really much I can say about it.”
When Your Action Plan Is “I Don’t Have One”
The post-qualifying media session was properly uncomfortable viewing. Hamilton delivered answers in monosyllables, his voice so low journalists struggled to hear him. Asked if he had an action plan to work on improvements, his response was devastating in its simplicity: “Not at the moment, no.”
No plan. No direction. No hope. Just anger.
Asked whether the winter break would provide enough time to mentally reset before 2026 testing in late January, Hamilton offered three words: “Time will tell.” Then he added, with the enthusiasm of someone attending their own funeral, “It’s the shortest break.”
Brilliant. The man’s got seven weeks to somehow transform from broken wreck to championship contender again. What could possibly go wrong?
When pressed about what he could do from P16 in Sunday’s race, Hamilton delivered the most depressing assessment imaginable: “There’s not a lot you can do from there. Same thing every weekend for me.”
Same thing every weekend. That’s where Lewis Hamilton’s at now. Touring around in 16th, wondering which corner will expose his complete inability to understand this Ferrari, accepting mediocrity as the new normal.
The FP3 Crash That Summed Everything Up
Hamilton’s qualifying disaster actually started three hours earlier during final practice. Turn Nine at Yas Marina, that long sweeping left-hander. Something went wrong at the front. The car bottomed out. The rear end snapped loose faster than Ferrari’s title hopes in April.
He spun, crunched into the barriers, and trudged back to the pits looking utterly defeated. Ferrari’s mechanics had less than three hours to rebuild the car before qualifying. They managed it. Hamilton made the session. Then promptly went out in Q1 anyway, finishing 0.231 seconds behind Charles Leclerc and just 0.008s away from advancing.
“The car was feeling great, just had some bottoming and then lost the back end,” Hamilton explained afterwards, as if crashing in practice was somehow proof the SF-25 was actually working brilliantly. That’s the logic we’re dealing with now.
Ferrari refused to explain the incident before qualifying, which is their standard operating procedure when things go catastrophically wrong. Asked afterwards if the team had identified the cause, Hamilton delivered another non-answer: “No, they just fixed the car. They saw some bouncing going in and they said that carried all the way through.”
Bouncing. Bottoming. Back end gone. The same technical issues that have plagued Hamilton all season, described in the vaguest possible terms because nobody at Ferrari actually knows what’s happening anymore.
When Sky Sports Asks If You’ve Lost Your Skill
Perhaps the most brutal moment came when Sky Sports suggested Hamilton couldn’t seem to find “the skill he’s known for.” The seven-time champion didn’t argue. He just nodded his head. Silent acknowledgment that yes, the talent’s disappeared somewhere between Mercedes and Maranello.
That’s genuinely heartbreaking. A driver who’s won 105 races, seven world championships, and redefined what’s possible in F1 now openly admitting he’s lost whatever made him special. Whether it’s the car, his age, or simple incompatibility with Ferrari’s philosophy doesn’t really matter anymore. The result’s the same.
Hamilton’s on course to finish his first season at Ferrari without a single podium. That’s never happened in his 19-year F1 career. Not even during his difficult 2011 season with McLaren. Not in 2009 when he suffered three straight Q1 exits at Monaco, Turkey, and Britain. He still scored podiums that year.
The 78-Point Gap to Leclerc That Tells the Real Story
Want to know how comprehensively Hamilton’s been destroyed this season? He’s 78 points behind Charles Leclerc in the drivers’ championship. His teammate’s finished fifth overall. Hamilton’s sixth. But that gap tells you everything about who’s adapted to the SF-25 and who’s been left behind.
Leclerc qualified fifth in Abu Dhabi. Hamilton 16th. Same machinery. Completely different universes of performance. The Monégasque has dragged every ounce of pace from that difficult Ferrari all season whilst Hamilton’s spent most weekends apologising over the radio and finishing outside the points.
Ferrari stopped developing their 2025 car in April, which Fred Vasseur admits was psychologically devastating for everyone. But Leclerc’s delivered seven podiums despite driving abandoned machinery. Hamilton can’t remember who won the race he just finished.
The Anger That Changes Nothing
Hamilton’s “unbearable anger and rage” would be more meaningful if it translated into performance. But fury doesn’t make you faster when you fundamentally can’t understand the car beneath you. It just makes watching your decline more uncomfortable for everyone involved.
The British driver’s answers grew shorter as the media session progressed. One-word responses. Long pauses. The body language of someone who’s completely checked out mentally whilst still physically going through the motions.
Asked if he had any plans for what comes next, Hamilton replied: “I don’t have a plan for anything.” Not even basic preparation for Monday morning. Just emptiness where strategy and determination used to live.
Sunday’s Abu Dhabi Grand Prix will mercifully end this nightmare season. Then Hamilton gets seven weeks before Barcelona testing arrives and the 2026 regulations demand he somehow adapts to even more complexity and technical challenges.
He’ll be 40 years old when those new cars hit the track. Currently getting demolished by a teammate seven years younger. Expressing unbearable anger whilst delivering no answers about how to improve. Starting races from 16th and describing it as “the same thing every weekend.”
Perhaps the most telling moment came when Hamilton was asked about his prospects for Sunday’s race. “There’s not a lot you can do from there,” he muttered. “Give it my best shot.”
That’s not the voice of a champion planning a spectacular comeback drive. That’s acceptance. Resignation. The sound of someone who knows their Ferrari fairytale has become a horror story with no happy ending in sight.
Will “unbearable anger” fuel his 2026 revival? Or will it just burn what’s left of his motivation to ashes before the season even starts?
