Break Point Column
I would like to take a moment to address something that has been on my mind for, oh, perhaps the last 20 years, if not longer.
It developed around my first contact with the Harry Potter universe, when I became aware of Quidditch.
Now, I don’t mind fantasy inventing sports. In fact, as a world-building tool, it adds much-needed depth and colour – a sense of unity and familiarity to the world of the other, perhaps even a bit of comedy and drama.
For instance, if JRR Tolkien is to be believed, golf was invented at the Battle of the Greenfields, when the hobbit Bandobras Took swung his club so hard as to decapitate the Orc king, Golfimbul, the severed head landing in a rabbit hole some 100 yards away.
That I can see happening and explore with a degree of delight – more so because I find the concept of golf a tad ridiculous.
But Quidditch? No way… it just makes no sense.
Why chase goals when everyone should just chase the Snitch? What is the purpose of the Quaffle and the rigmarole of scoring 10 points when there is a way to score 150 points and end the match at the same time – no doubt with victory quite literally in hand?
Who needs Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers? Why is the team not all Seekers?
It is quite understandable that people rage against this particular inconsistency of the wizarding world, despite there being much more pressing concerns – like what the denizens of that world actually do for a living.
Which eventually brings me to Liam Lawson.
I would like to take a moment to address something that has been on my mind for, oh, perhaps the last few months and no longer: Why was Lawson handed the Red Bull seat when Yuki Tsunoda should have been given the responsibility after the departure of Sergio Pérez?
"I had no idea in China"
— Formula 1 (@F1) April 3, 2025
Here's Liam Lawson on when he found out about his demotion from Red Bull Racing 👇#F1 #JapaneseGP pic.twitter.com/OppHqmChMK
Much like Quidditch, it made no sense then, and now, on the verge of the Japanese Grand Prix, it still seems nonsensical.
I was not surprised when, earlier this week, Tsunoda was confirmed as Red Bull’s new driver, with Lawson demoted back to the less prestigious Racing Bulls.
It was an own goal for sure by Red Bull to give Lawson such a huge responsibility when there was very little evidence on track to support it. And I am not referring to the first two races this season, which have been disastrous.
In his 17 Grand Prix, Lawson has only finished in the top 10 on three occasions – all of them ninth-place finishes.
The far more experienced Tsunoda, in a lesser machine, has achieved results relative to the opportunities granted to him.
"Best situation ever"
— Formula 1 (@F1) April 3, 2025
Yuki Tsunoda is excited to debut for Red Bull Racing at his home race this weekend 🤩 #F1 #JapaneseGP pic.twitter.com/AVfkm1tWEd
He has been chasing that Snitch longer, to stick to the analogy, with a broom held together with duct tape.
When Checo’s services were terminated last season, Tsunoda should have been the first and only option to wiggle his way into that seat.
It would have given him that extra bit of time to prepare for the rigours of being a Red Bull driver – arguably the most high-pressure position in F1.
The RB21 looks like an absolute mare to drive, with defending world champion Max Verstappen thus far the only driver from their stable able to break it.
Since Verstappen took his seat in 2016, he has had seven teammates, with Tsunoda the latest.
Rumblings suggest that the Dutchman is quite peeved at the team swap. Perhaps he understands from the cockpit that Red Bull’s best chance to compete this season required a more patient approach.
One suspects Tsunoda will battle at his home GP this weekend – that seems to be the nature of the car he will now drive.
But he should have been in it from the start, not Lawson.
Tsunoda will have to be a wizard with the magic touch to achieve anything special in the next few races.
And therein lies the real issue. Just as Quidditch only works if you ignore the glaring flaws in its rules, Red Bull’s driver strategy only makes sense if you ignore logic and common sense.
Tsunoda should have been given his shot long ago. Now, he faces the impossible task of taming a car that may not even be capable of delivering success.
Much like a Quidditch team stubbornly playing the long game with the Quaffle while the Snitch is within reach, Red Bull wasted precious time on the wrong approach.
Whether Tsunoda can now salvage their mistake is a question that will be answered on track.
But, as history has shown – both in wizarding sport and in F1 – sometimes the game is just rigged from the start.