Author: bang7

The world of Formula 1 is, by its very nature, a high-stakes arena of precision, million-dollar machinery, and fierce competitive spirit. Every element, from the pit stop choreography to the exactitude of the racing line, is rigidly controlled and calculated. Yet, in a hilarious and profoundly human twist, the high-octane spectacle was momentarily hijacked by pure, unadulterated chaos during the pre-race driver’s parade at the Brazilian Grand Prix. This was not the expected drama of a wheel-to-wheel battle, but a breakdown of the most absurd kind—a spectacle involving miniature vehicles, broken dreams, and the unlikeliest alliance between two of the sport’s most intense rivals, George Russell and Max Verstappen.

The São Paulo Grand Prix at the iconic Autódromo José Carlos Pace (Interlagos) is famed for its atmospheric and unpredictable nature. It is a place where legends are made and championships are won or lost in dramatic fashion. But on this occasion, the drama started before the lights even went out. In a departure from the traditional, stately ride around the track atop a massive lorry, F1 experimented with a more intimate, fun-focused format: drivers were tasked with piloting customized, scaled-down ‘kit’ cars. These miniature machines, designed to resemble F1 cars, were intended to bring the drivers closer to the passionate Brazilian fans and inject a sense of childlike fun into the pre-race routine.

What unfolded was a scene straight out of a comedy sketch, a delightful descent into anarchy that social media devoured instantly. The fun-sized vehicles, perhaps inheriting the famous unreliability of their full-scale counterparts, proved to be temperamental. For two drivers in particular, the parade became a humbling ordeal.

The Mercedes Meltdown: A Humbling Break-Down

The first sign of trouble came with the Mercedes-AMG team’s miniature machine, piloted by George Russell and rookie teammate Andrea Kimi Antonelli. For Russell, a driver known for his meticulous preparation and often-expressed desire for control and perfection, the breakdown of his parade vehicle must have been a uniquely frustrating experience. The sight of the future of Mercedes and the current standard-bearer of the team’s British contingent being marooned trackside by a sputtering mini-car was priceless. The pair were forced to abandon their brightly-liveried vehicle, the symbol of their team’s might, and watch as their rivals zoomed by, laughing, cheering, and waving to the crowd.

The moment was a stark, almost poetic reversal of fortune. Just moments before they were due to climb into machines capable of exceeding 200 mph, they were reduced to spectators, victims of a low-speed mechanical failure. The look of mild distress and disbelief on Russell and Antonelli’s faces, captured by the cameras, perfectly encapsulated the surreal nature of the situation. It was a reminder that even the gods of speed are subject to the mundane reality of a broken-down vehicle.

But the humiliation was not yet complete. The need to return to the pits was paramount, and in the chaotic moment, help arrived from the most unexpected corner.

The Ultimate Act of Rivalry or Brotherhood?

The irony of the situation reached peak levels when the Red Bull Racing mini-car—driven by the team’s charismatic trio, Max Verstappen and Yuki Tsunoda (who was apparently on driving duties), and featuring a very relieved George Russell desperately holding on—pulled up. Red Bull and Mercedes have been locked in one of the most intense and, at times, acrimonious rivalries in modern F1 history. To see Russell, one of Mercedes’ prized assets, forced to hitch a ride with his most potent adversaries, the team that often denies him victory, was a moment that transcended sport.

Russell, hanging on for “dear life” to the back of the Red Bull kit car, as he later quipped, was a visual metaphor for the entire season: Mercedes playing catch-up, and Red Bull setting the pace. The image of the usually composed Russell clinging to the vehicle driven by Tsunoda, with Verstappen smiling beside him, became the undisputed defining shot of the weekend’s opening festivities. It was a moment of begrudging camaraderie and pure comedic gold, highlighting the human element beneath the helmets and corporate battles.

This impromptu lift was more than just a logistical solution; it was a candid glimpse into the personalities of these world-class athletes. Russell’s willingness to be vulnerable, Verstappen’s apparent amusement, and Tsunoda’s role as the unexpected chauffeur combined to create a narrative that fans craved. These moments of levity are a vital counterpoint to the relentless pressure of a Grand Prix weekend, offering a momentary release for drivers and fans alike.

Heartbreak for the Home Hero

Russell and Antonelli were not the only victims of the parade’s ‘wild’ side. For Brazilian rookie Gabriel Bortoleto, making his first home Grand Prix start in eight years for a local driver, the parade disaster was tinged with genuine heartbreak. Bortoleto’s kit car also suffered a mechanical failure, leaving the young driver stranded on the track.

The Brazilian faithful had waited years for a homegrown hero to cheer on, and the sight of Bortoleto waving forlornly from his broken car, unable to complete the lap and fully soak in the adoration of his people, was a profound disappointment. Though a small incident in the grand scheme of his racing career, the timing was cruel. It served as a painful prelude to a challenging race weekend for the Kick Sauber driver, who later endured crashes in both the sprint and the main Grand Prix. This emotional dip, juxtaposed against the laughter caused by Russell’s predicament, added a layer of profound feeling to the pre-race “chaos.”

Why the Chaos is Good for F1

The Brazilian parade chaos underscored a truth that Formula 1 is increasingly embracing: the fans love the human element. For all the technological marvel and strategic brilliance of the sport, what often truly resonates is the unpredictability and the unscripted moments. The failure of a tiny parade car, a $5,000 piece of fun-fare, manages to break down the walls of rivalry and corporate image in a way that no carefully curated social media post ever could.

The sight of Max Verstappen, the current standard-bearer of F1 domination, grinning widely as his competitor clung to his car, or George Russell expressing his “unpleasant experience” but conceding the humor in the moment, makes the drivers relatable. They are not just automatons in expensive suits; they are individuals capable of frustration, laughter, and momentary dependence on a rival.

This kind of organic content—dubbed “chaos” by the official Formula 1 social media channels—is a goldmine for engagement. It generates headlines, sparks millions of views, and creates those highly shareable, emotionally engaging discussions the sport thrives on. It turns a routine pre-race event into a memorable highlight, reinforcing F1’s successful shift towards becoming a personality-driven, entertainment-first enterprise.

The 2025 Brazilian Grand Prix promised drama, and it certainly delivered, just not in the conventional sense. The spectacle of the miniature car breakdowns, culminating in George Russell’s awkward-yet-hilarious Red Bull tow-truck moment, will be remembered not as a technical failure, but as a triumph of personality and the glorious, unscripted chaos that reminds us why we love the human drama of motorsport.

Natalie Pinkham pulled out of presenting duties at the Brazilian Grand Prix as she recovers from neck surgery, but was well enough to watch Brentford vs Newcastle United with Daniel Ricciardo

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Natalie Pinkham seen in the stands at Brentford vs Newcastle United with husband Owain Walbyoff and F1 icon Daniel Ricciardo(Image: Sky Sports)

Daniel Ricciardo was a surprise guest on the screens of Sky Sports viewers watching Premier League action on Sunday. The former Formula 1 fans’ favourite was shown by the TV cameras in the stands at the Gtech Community Stadium, watching Brentford secure a home victory against Newcastle United.

And he was not the only famous face in the shot that quickly circulated on social media. Seen next to bearded former racer Ricciardo was Natalie Pinkham, the Sky Sports F1 presenter who is currently off work while she recovers from neck surgery.

Pinkham was due to travel to Brazil for this weekend’s Sao Paulo Grand Prix, but told fans on her social media accounts that she had been unable to make the journey. She told followers: “I had hoped to be on a flight to Brazil yesterday, but the last couple of months have been trickier than I expected following neck surgery; and I am not there just yet.”

Mirror Sport understands Sky Sports chiefs had to make hasty changes to their presenter schedule to make sure they were covered on the ground in Sao Paulo. Reporters Craig Slater and Ted Kravitz shared presenting duties on Friday for practice and Sprint qualifying, while lead presenter Simon Lazenby flew out in time to take the reins from Saturday.

Pinkham hopes to be back in action soon and was well enough to turn up at the Gtech Community Stadium on Sunday. She was seen next to Ricciardo, who recently announced his racing retirement after losing his place on the F1 grid in 2024, and her husband Owain Walbyoff.

Pinkham is a Brentford fan and a regular at their home games when not travelling around the globe to cover F1. She would have been delighted with the result as her beloved Bees came from behind to beat Newcastle 3-1.

Harvey Barnes opened the scoring in the first half to send the Magpies into the break with a slender lead. But Brentford piled on the pressure in the second 45 and levelled things up when Kevin Schade headed home from a long throw-in.

Brentford were denied a penalty when Dan Burn appeared to trip Dango Ouattara, but referee Stuart Attwell believed the Burkina Faso forward had dived and showed him a yellow card – a decision not overturned by VAR despite replays showing clear contact between them.

But they would get their penalty when Burn again brought down Ouattara, this time earning a second yellow card. Igor Thiago made no mistake from the spot and sealed the win in added time, after Rico Henry had prevented a Newcastle equaliser with a sliding block to stop Anthony Elanga who looked certain to score.

It was entertaining viewing for Ricciardo, who confirmed in September that he had stepped away from professional motorsport. The Aussie has taken up a new role as a brand ambassador for Ford Racing and said: “I couldn’t be more excited for all the amazing drives ahead with Ford and for all the incredible projects Ford Racing has in its pipeline.”

Formula 1 is a sport built on the highest extremes of speed, danger, and adrenaline. Its drivers are modern gladiators, accustomed to dancing on the limit of physics at 200 miles per hour, insulated in a technological cocoon of carbon fibre and advanced safety systems. Yet, for all the precision-engineered risk they face on the track, nothing could have prepared Jenson Button, the reigning World Champion in 2010, for the sudden, raw terror of real-world urban violence that ambushed him on a street in São Paulo.

It was an incident that ripped the veneer of motorsport glamour away, forcing the F1 community to confront a chilling reality: sometimes, the greatest danger lies far from the circuit’s gravel traps, hidden instead in the gridlocked traffic of a major host city. Button’s close call ahead of the 2010 Brazilian Grand Prix at Interlagos was not just a security scare; it was a near-fatal brush with a heavily armed gang, an ordeal that highlighted the extreme lengths teams must go to protect their personnel and irrevocably changed the security landscape of the sport.

The Calm Before the Storm

The year was 2010, and Jenson Button, fresh off his incredible championship-winning year with Brawn GP, was now driving for the iconic McLaren team. He was one of the most recognizable faces in global sport, and in a city like São Paulo, which has long battled issues with crime and security, this high-profile status presented a terrifying, and often unseen, risk.

The incident occurred just hours after qualifying, as Button and his close entourage were making the routine journey from the Interlagos circuit back to their hotel. Traveling with him were his rock and confidante, his father John Button—a beloved figure in the paddock—his physiotherapist Mikey Collier, and his manager Richard Goddard. Their transport was a specialized Mercedes B-Class, a seemingly innocuous vehicle that held a vital secret: it was armoured and bulletproof, a necessary precaution in a city infamous for targeted attacks on high-net-worth individuals.

The journey should have been mundane, a chance to decompress after a high-pressure session. Instead, it turned into a primal fight for survival, a moment of chaos that instantly shattered the professional composure of a world champion.

Gridlock and the Glint of Steel

São Paulo traffic is legendary—a suffocating, relentless tide of vehicles that can turn a short drive into an hour-long siege. It was precisely this gridlock that created the vulnerability the attackers sought.

“We stopped at the traffic lights, three rows back,” Button later recalled, the memory still fresh with shock. Their professional driver, experienced in navigating the city’s inherent dangers, had deliberately stopped early, leaving a vital, small gap to the car in front—a practiced move intended to allow an emergency escape route.

The initial feeling was one of mild suspicion. Button and his companions looked to the right and noticed several men gathering by a building entrance. They looked ‘suspect,’ but initially, they thought little of it. In a bustling metropolis, people gather. It was Richard Goddard, ever vigilant, who made the first terrifying observation. He saw a baton hanging down from one of the men’s arms.

But the warning sign escalated instantly.

Button’s own gaze landed on another man, and his professional memory froze the image: “I noticed that one was playing with something in his trousers, and it was a gun.”

The realization was a punch to the gut. The low-level unease transformed into blinding, visceral fear. This was not a random street spat; this was a coordinated, armed ambush. They were trapped, sitting targets in a heavy, luxury vehicle that screamed wealth and opportunity to opportunistic criminals.

The Heroic Breakout

In that split second, as the occupants of the Mercedes locked eyes with their would-be captors, the dynamic changed. The attackers realised they had been spotted and immediately rushed the vehicle. The moment was chaos—a wave of armed men converging on their car in the heart of the city.

The lives of Jenson Button and his companions hung on the skill and sheer guts of one man: their driver.

With the armed figures charging, the driver did not hesitate. He reacted with an astonishing, life-saving blend of instinct and training. Button recounted the breathtaking escape: “He angled the car and floored it—it didn’t look like there was enough space to get through. He went between six cars and rammed every single car just to get past.”

The roar of the engine was drowned out by the sickening crunch of metal on metal as the heavy Mercedes smashed and ploughed its way through the gridlocked lanes. It was a desperate, violent breakout, a necessity forced by the immediate threat of lethal force. They were not merely driving away; they were fighting their way out.

“We got through in the end,” Button concluded, the immense sense of relief overshadowed by the terrifying details of what they left behind, “but looking behind there were two guys with handguns—quite a simple looking handgun—and one guy with a machine gun.”

A machine gun. The confirmation of the severity of the threat was chilling. This was not a petty robbery; this was an operation ready to employ overwhelming, deadly force. Had the car not been bulletproof, or had the driver hesitated for a fraction of a second, the outcome would almost certainly have been catastrophic.

The Weight of the Bulletproof Car

The fact that the car was a heavily reinforced, armoured B-Class Mercedes—not the sleek, light sports cars F1 drivers are accustomed to—proved to be their unexpected saviour. The weight and structure, designed to withstand ballistic attack, allowed it to absorb the impact of the brutal, high-speed ramming required to clear the blockage. The metal-on-metal violence of the escape was painful and destructive, but it was necessary.

Button suggested the attack was likely an opportunist one, fuelled by bad luck—they had stopped directly outside the entrance where the gang was lurking. Yet, the existence of such a heavily armed group waiting to strike underscores the deeply troubled security situation that F1 had, for years, tried to manage.

For Button, the psychological impact was profound. “You hear about it happening over the years but you don’t know how it feels until it happens to you,” he reflected. “It’s a pretty scary situation. You don’t believe it’s happening. It’s quite strange.” This was a man used to managing existential risks on the edge of adhesion, but the cold, unpredictable malice of an armed ambush was an entirely different kind of terror. It was a complete loss of control, a sudden and brutal injection of real-world danger into the insulated bubble of a global athlete.

A Legacy of Fear and Change

Button was not the first, nor would he be the last, F1 personality to be targeted in São Paulo. Over the years, countless team members, mechanics, and other F1 personnel have faced similar threats, often with their cars getting blocked or their valuables stolen at gunpoint. However, the targeting of a current, high-profile world champion with such heavy armament sent shockwaves across the paddock.

The incident served as a dramatic, undeniable wake-up call, solidifying the Brazilian Grand Prix’s status as a high-risk event. The security measures for F1 teams, already stringent, were immediately ramped up. What had been a recommended precaution became an iron rule.

Teams began universally investing in comprehensive security packages that included:

Armoured Vehicles:

The use of heavy, bulletproof cars became mandatory for all driver and key personnel transport.

Trained Drivers:

Chauffeurs were no longer simply drivers; they were security operatives, trained in evasive driving techniques and armed response procedures, possessing the kind of split-second decision-making that saved Button’s life.

Police Escorts:

The use of heavily armed, official police escorts, both marked and unmarked, became standard practice for the transfer of drivers between the hotel and the circuit.

Button’s ordeal forced the wider F1 community to understand that its presence in high-risk zones required a paramilitary level of security planning. The glamour and high-stakes racing of the Brazilian Grand Prix came with the inherent, terrifying cost of confronting the city’s darker realities.

The world champion’s chilling experience serves as a permanent reminder of the complex and dangerous environment F1 operates in outside the track limits. It is a story of sheer terror, incredible luck, and the undeniable heroism of a driver whose quick thinking prevented a global tragedy—a moment of true panic, only survivable because a steel cage, and not a human body, was forced to take the bullet. And while the Brazilian Grand Prix remains a beloved fixture on the calendar, for those who travel there, the terrifying image of armed men rushing a car, confirmed by the sight of a machine gun, ensures that the fear remains a silent, heavy passenger on every ride to the circuit.

The Splash Heard ‘Round the World: Did Lando Norris Accidentally or Intentionally Sabotage Piastri’s Title Bid in Brazil?

The Sao Paulo sprint was meant to be a showcase of McLaren’s ascendancy—a moment of unity in the face of a relentless 2025 title fight. Instead, it detonated into the most controversial episode of the season, shattering not only a race car but also the fragile peace within the Woking camp. The high-speed crash at Kurva Dool eliminated Oscar Piastri, crushed his momentum, and effectively handed his teammate, Lando Norris, a clear path to victory and a crucial injection of championship points.

But what if the devastating incident was more than just a typical mistake in treacherous, mixed conditions? What if something, or someone, inadvertently—or even intentionally—helped create the perfect, instantaneous scenario for disaster?

Rumors began to swirl almost immediately after Piastri’s violent rotation into the barrier. Onboard replays sparked suspicion, and even more tellingly, other drivers shared surprisingly pointed messages over team radio. The paddock, usually adept at ignoring internal conflicts, is now buzzing with the one question McLaren never wanted to answer: Did Lando Norris knowingly push the limits on a wet curb, splashing a ‘booby trap’ of water onto his teammate Oscar Piastri’s racing line, thereby setting up a scenario that only he, driving ahead, could survive?

The stakes could not be higher. With just nine points separating the teammates at the summit of the championship table, every single moment on track is magnified. This is a turning point, a moment where a perceived racing incident morphs into the first visible fracture of a potential civil war inside one of Formula 1’s most competitive teams. The broadcast didn’t show all the evidence, and the official narrative is already being challenged.

The Treacherous Interlagos Sprint and the Fatal Millimeter

What unfolded during the sprint race at Interlagos was far more than a routine crash in mixed conditions; it was the precise moment the entire 2025 F1 title fight pivoted on its axis. Lando Norris, the championship leader, walked away with maximum points and a clean victory, significantly extending his narrow lead. Oscar Piastri, his closest rival and teammate, walked away with a wrecked McLaren, a nine-point deficit, and a justifiable, growing sense that something about the incident felt profoundly unnatural.

The conditions at the start were treacherous—standing water, inconsistent grip, and gusty winds—an environment where every millimeter of track surface usage holds the power of life or death for a lap time. Norris started strong, dictating the pace and controlling the field. Piastri, running a competitive third, entered the sweeping curve at turn three, taking what appeared to be the exact same racing line he had successfully executed on the preceding lap.

But this time, the car reacted with lethal suddenness. The curb at turn three, which had seemed manageable seconds earlier, instantly destabilized his rear end. The car snapped violently, rotating into the wall and triggering a multi-car incident that also collected Nico Hülkenberg and Franco Colapinto, who were following in quick succession.

Normally, the conversation would end there: a classic wet-weather racing mistake, unavoidable and unfortunate. But here is where the drama truly begins, shifting the focus from the track to the team ahead.

Antonelli’s Accusation: The Hidden Evidence

The most critical and damning piece of immediate evidence came not from McLaren’s pit wall, but from a competitor. Immediately following the crash, rookie Kimmy Antonelli, driving for Mercedes, spoke a short, yet explosive, sentence over his team radio: “Norris hit the curb and a lot of water went online.”

This comment is not speculative; it is a direct observation from a peer that shifts the blame entirely. Antonelli attributed the chaos not to the general conditions, and not to Piastri’s driving, but directly to Norris.

The theory is compelling and fits the conditions perfectly. Norris, driving ahead on soft tires, was reportedly experimenting with grip and may have been taking an increasingly aggressive line, hitting the curb harder lap after lap to maximize his speed. Such an aggressive action on a wet surface could indeed fling a significant wall of water and destabilized residue onto the main racing line right before Piastri arrived.

In drying conditions, this act creates a uniquely lethal combination: a surface that is one part dry and confident, and one part deceptively, instantaneously wet. If Piastri was following Norris’s trajectory, assuming it to be safe, he would have received absolutely zero warning that the grip had been catastrophically compromised just milliseconds before his tires met that spot.

Piastri’s Subtle Hint and Stella’s Evasion

Piastri himself, while carefully trying to avoid outright blaming his teammate, subtly yet powerfully hinted at this exact mechanism. He admitted his car should not have been on the curb, but he strongly emphasized that the track condition he encountered was radically different from the lap before, and that other cars ahead of Norris had successfully used the same curb moments earlier without issue. His comments included a quiet, yet clear, message: Someone ahead changed the track’s condition unexpectedly.

Meanwhile, the response from McLaren Team Principal Andrea Stella was strangely political and evasive. Instead of addressing the potential role of Norris or the track conditions, Stella focused on calling the event “just an episode”—the kind of neutralizing phrase team bosses deploy when their primary goal is to suppress internal conflict and protect one of their stars. Even in his measured language, he admitted the team would hold a “conversation” with Piastri about the crash, placing the focus squarely on the Australian’s error.

Crucially, Stella avoided any mention of Norris’s role, Antonelli’s team radio message, or the visible evidence of the large water splash. When multiple cars crash at the same point due to genuinely unpredictable conditions, teams typically discuss the weather, the track surface, or the FIA’s safety calls. Here, the entire narrative, as controlled by McLaren, was strangely focused on framing it as Piastri’s singular mistake, despite the accumulating evidence and the rival driver’s eyewitness account.

Intent vs. Impact: The Ethical Fog

The deeper question facing the FIA, the fans, and perhaps most importantly, Norris himself, is whether this was simply unlucky timing or if Norris’s aggressive curb usage actively and knowingly contributed to destabilizing the line at the worst possible moment for his title rival.

Did Norris intend to crash his teammate? Almost certainly not. He is fighting for his inaugural world championship, and risking the team’s reputation and integrity for a few extra points is rarely a calculated risk a driver of his caliber would take. Intent is highly unlikely.

However, in the brutal world of elite competition, impact is often the only factor that truly matters. Norris walked away with a victory, a huge psychological boost, and a clean sheet. Piastri walked away with zero points, a nine-point championship deficit, and a growing seed of doubt about his teammate’s loyalty. In a championship battle this tight, even an unintentional move that severely disadvantages a teammate can and will explode into a controversy that dwarfs the immediate outcome of the race.

This incident has amplified the psychological pressure. Piastri had been leading the championship earlier in the season but has faltered recently under the immense pressure. Norris, meanwhile, has visibly grown more confident and aggressive with every passing round. The Brazil sprint might be the critical juncture where McLaren’s once-friendly, harmonious rivalry finally snapped under the unbearable weight of a world title battle.

Piastri has predictably tried to move on, quickly insisting he was focused on qualifying and the main race. That is the language of a driver trying desperately to not create internal drama, but his frustration is clear, justified, and palpable. McLaren now faces the ultimate nightmare scenario: their drivers fighting each other harder than they are fighting the competition.

The Brazil sprint might not have been a deliberate act of sabotage, but it was undoubtedly a turning point. It was the moment where Piastri’s title run took a serious, possibly fatal, hit and where the internal harmony of McLaren began to crack, setting the stage for an explosive final sequence of races. This crash has left an ugly, indelible mark on the season, raising the chilling question of whether this was a freak accident or the ominous opening chapter of a brewing F1 civil war. If this tension continues to fester without transparent resolution, the championship could take a very dark, unexpected turn indeed.

When Adrian Newey, the most celebrated and decorated designer in Formula 1 history, walked through the gleaming new doors of Aston Martin’s Silverstone campus in March 2025, the global paddock collectively held its breath. The assumption was simple, immediate, and perhaps a little naïve: the ‘Newey Magic’ would be instant. Surely the man who engineered championship dynasties for Williams, McLaren, and, most recently, the all-conquering Red Bull Racing, would transform the green team overnight, guiding them straight onto the podium and into title contention.

But for three months, the factory remained quiet. Aston Martin continued to languish in the midfield, a position they’d occupied for most of the season, cementing eighth place in the Constructor’s Championship with zero podiums to their name. Many onlookers were puzzled. Was the legendary designer losing his touch? Had he joined too late? The truth, as it now emerges with devastating clarity, is far more dramatic: Newey wasn’t waiting to sprinkle magic dust; he was watching, taking notes, and preparing for a ruthless internal coup designed to tear down the old regime and build a new dynasty on its ashes.

The Billion-Dollar Façade: A Team Not Functioning as One

Aston Martin, backed by the virtually unlimited checkbook of owner Lawrence Stroll and housed in a stunning, state-of-the-art facility, possessed all the apparent ingredients for success. They had the money, the infrastructure, and the ambition. Yet, Newey’s deep-dive ‘gap analysis’ during his first ninety days exposed a fatal flaw behind the glamorous, billion-dollar façade: the team was fundamentally broken.

As team principal Andy Cowell admitted, everyone knew improvements were necessary, but it took Newey to reveal the true scale of the crisis. He didn’t find technical incompetence; he found cultural stagnation. Newey discovered a team where departments had grown in size and capability over the past three or four years, but had failed to grow together. The disease infecting the organization was a “silo mentality” . Engineers were operating in isolation, their efforts fragmented, resulting in a distinct lack of integration that prevented the whole machine from working as a single, unified entity.

This siloed approach explains the most heartbreaking chapter of the team’s recent history: the sudden and catastrophic mid-season fade of 2023. That year began with a spectacular surge, delivering eight podium finishes for Fernando Alonso and genuinely challenging the supremacy of Red Bull. Then, the development stalled. While rivals like McLaren surged forward and Ferrari regrouped, Aston Martin stood still, swiftly falling back into mid-pack obscurity. In the hyper-competitive world of Formula 1, standing still is the same as hurtling backward . Newey identified the core reason: a failure of unified effort and an inability to prioritize the right resources in the right areas.

The Ruthless Executioner: Seven Heads Roll

The polite, softly spoken man the media portrays—the kindly old badger sketching beautiful cars with a cup of tea—is, according to those who have worked with him, a carefully curated character for the cameras . Inside the factory, Adrian Newey is a fierce, brutal, and ruthless competitor . He has no fear of rocking the boat; in fact, he is the storm.

Last week, the news broke quietly, but the reverberations are anything but silent: Newey’s hammer has fallen.

A total of seven senior figures involved in aerodynamics and car design are being removed from their current roles . The most high-profile casualty is Eric Blandon, Aston Martin’s Aerodynamics Director, a man with previous senior aero roles at powerhouses like Ferrari and Mercedes . Blandon is not merely “leaving”; he is being pushed out. He is joined by former Chief Designer Akio Haga, who is also gone.

This is not a gentle “reassignment” to the company’s advanced technologies division or its WEC endurance program, where other former technical directors like Andrew Green have been moved. This is a purge . The message to the departing engineers is uncompromising: your approach was not good enough . The siloed mentality and the failure to create a unified machine ends now. To the remaining staff, it is an unmistakable warning: adapt to Newey’s vision, or you will be the next casualty .

The Revolution Will Be Simulated: Betting on 2026

Newey’s initial observations and subsequent purges were not done out of personal spite; they were part of a targeted revolution aimed squarely at the next major technical hurdle: the colossal 2026 rule change . And Newey immediately identified Aston Martin’s critical, existential weakness: simulation .

In the era of Formula 1’s cost cap, the days of Mercedes simply throwing half a billion dollars at a problem are over . Success now hinges on the smarter, more effective allocation of finite resources. Furthermore, F1 strictly restricts real-world testing to just three pre-season sessions . Teams can no longer develop cars on the track during the season; they develop them in the simulator months before the lights even go out for the first race.

Whoever has the best simulation team has the most accurate data, the most faith in their design concepts, and the biggest head start . Aston Martin, Newey concluded, did not have this until now.

His hiring spree tells the entire, revolutionary story:

Jo Veno: Lured in as the new Chief Aerodynamicist, a former Red Bull lieutenant who worked closely with Newey .
Charles Wood: Recruited back from a spell at Apple to take on the role of Simulation and Vehicle Modeling Director .
Marco Finelo: An expert in simulation and Artificial Intelligence systems, who was instrumental in developing Ferrari’s first driver-in-loop simulator in the late 1990s—the very tools that powered Michael Schumacher’s historic dynasty .

This is not about incremental tweaking; it is a fundamental, top-to-bottom transformation, a complete overhaul of the organization’s brain trust to prioritize the digital development tools required for modern F1 success. Newey came to tear down the old walls and build an unshakeable, fully integrated structure ready for the 2026 onslaught .

The Stakes: A Title for Alonso or The Ultimate Gamble

The restructuring sends a final, powerful message to the entire paddock: Aston Martin is deadly serious. They are no longer content to simply “play” at being a top team; they are determined to become one . Newey’s purpose is clear: he is here to build another dynasty, and dynasties are, by their nature, built on the ashes of old, discarded regimes .

The sheer brutality of the purge creates three dramatic scenarios for the future of the team:

The Fairy Tale Ending:

Newey’s revolution works. The simulation upgrades pay off, the new structure clicks, and when the 2026 regulations hit, Aston Martin launches a car that makes Red Bull nervous. Fernando Alonso, the legendary veteran, finally achieves his coveted third World Championship at the age of 44 in British Racing Green .

The Purge Backfires:

Institutional knowledge walks out the door, and the new hires fail to integrate fast enough. The 2026 car launches with fundamental, unfixable flaws. Newey’s untouchable, two-decade-long reputation takes its first genuine hit .

The Stagnation:

The revolution is too little, too late. While Aston Martin purges and rebuilds, rivals like McLaren, Ferrari, and Mercedes—teams that already function as unified structures—are doing the same thing, but from a position of cultural strength .

The only certainty is the terrifying urgency of the clock. Newey is asking the impossible: can a broken F1 team be rebuilt and mentally transformed in just 18 months, ready for the biggest technical rule change in a generation?

And perhaps the most emotional question of all: What happens if Fernando Alonso, the man whose final career ambition is tied to this project, retires before 2026 even begins ?

Aston Martin’s 2026 championship hopes now hinge not on Lawrence Stroll’s money or the factory’s facilities, but entirely on whether Adrian Newey can successfully transform a group of fractured engineers into unified believers before the grid lights go out . The purge of seven senior staff is proof that this is the most expensive, high-stakes gamble in the history of modern motorsport, and the chaos has only just begun.

The Brazilian Grand Prix will forever be marked in Formula 1 history not as a display of Max Verstappen’s peerless driving genius—though it certainly was—but as the race where his championship dreams were extinguished by a single, catastrophic strategic error from his own Red Bull team. It was a sporting tragedy of Shakespearian proportions: a driver overcoming overwhelming odds only to be defeated by a self-inflicted wound.

The race weekend began with an ominous prelude of failure. For a team that has set the benchmark for dominance in recent years, the Red Bull garage was shrouded in confusion and frustration from the moment the cars hit the track. Following a difficult Sprint race, the team took the drastic and high-risk decision to make significant setup changes to Verstappen’s RB21 before the main qualifying session. As Team Principal Laurent Mekies later explained, this was a calculated gamble, stating, “It is part of the risk-taking we felt was necessary to see if we could get more out of the car.”

However, the gamble failed spectacularly. Instead of finding performance, they unearthed a monster. Verstappen was left with a car that was “all over the place, sliding around a lot,” forcing him to “underdrive it a lot just to not have a moment.” The consequence was unthinkable: Verstappen was eliminated early in qualifying, lining up a humiliating 16th, an exit compounded by his teammate Yuki Tsunoda’s low grid position. This marked a significant setback for Red Bull, a statistic that spoke volumes about the depth of their struggles.

The four-time world champion’s reaction was uncharacteristically blunt, a rare admission of defeat from a man famed for his tenacity. When asked about his championship prospects following qualifying, his response was a raw slice of realism: “I can forget about that.” He doubled down, adding, “With these kind of performances, I mean forget about it.” At that moment, trailing championship leader Lando Norris by a considerable margin, his title bid seemed mathematically improbable, if not emotionally impossible. The decision to change the power unit and start from the pit lane was simply the final layer of difficulty piled onto an already insurmountable task.

Yet, the race itself transformed into a canvas for one of the greatest redemption drives of his career. Starting from the pit lane, Verstappen showcased the very brilliance that has earned him his reputation. He was a man possessed, slicing through the field with surgical precision. Within just a few racing stints, he had carved his way up significantly.

The recovery was momentarily derailed by a puncture suffered during a safety car incident, forcing him back toward the rear of the field. But armed with a fresh set of medium tires, the charge resumed with even greater fury. What followed was a masterclass in overtaking and consistent pace, as he set blistering times and ate into the gap to the leaders.

The drama peaked. Against all logic, all expectation, and all the bad luck of the previous days, Max Verstappen had worked his way through the entire field and taken the lead of the Brazilian Grand Prix. It was shaping up to be a legendary comeback, echoing his previous stunning victory at the same circuit. With the McLarens committed to two-stop strategies and the Mercedes drivers managing tire wear, Verstappen seemed to be in control, his hard work on the track poised to yield an improbable 25-point haul.

Then came the call that stunned the paddock and irrevocably altered the trajectory of the championship.

With few racing tours remaining, Red Bull ordered their leading car into the pits for a fresh set of soft tires. The move was instantaneous and devastating: Verstappen dropped from first place to fourth, behind Norris, Antonelli, and Russell.

The logic behind the call was murky. While Mekies later suggested the team was trying to protect against an unforeseen late-race threat, the immediate consensus was that the decision was a monumental blunder. Verstappen had the track position—the most valuable commodity in modern Formula 1—and was managing a seemingly successful one-stop strategy. Giving up the lead for a fresh set of soft tires, with only a short distance remaining, appeared to be a stunning act of strategic suicide.

Verstappen, though, did what he could. Emerging from the pits, he pushed the new soft tires to their limit. He managed to execute a brilliant and decisive pass on George Russell, sweeping around the outside into Turn One to claim third place. For a few frantic tours, it seemed possible he might yet catch Kimmy Antonelli in second, closing the significant gap at a rapid rate. But the tire’s performance advantage soon faded, and his pace dropped off. He crossed the line in third, watching Lando Norris claim a comfortable victory and extend his championship lead.

The strategic fallout was immediate and brutal. The post-race press conference became an inquest. Laurent Mekies, in his defense, was painfully honest about the error. He admitted the risk had not paid off, conceding that the move “didn’t work” and that “clearly we lost a lot of competitiveness.” His acceptance of the decision as “painful and difficult to accept” underlined the team’s own realization that their strategy had snatched defeat from the jaws of a stunning victory.

This single strategic mistake by Red Bull had a definitive cost: it pushed Verstappen significantly behind Norris in the Drivers’ Championship. With only a few remaining races and a limited number of points still available, the mathematics are now overwhelmingly against the Dutchman. The championship is no longer a realistic fight; barring a major incident or mechanical failure for Lando Norris, the title is effectively heading to McLaren.

The Brazilian Grand Prix will be etched in memory as a race of ‘what might have been.’ Verstappen delivered a drive that should have culminated in a victory—a performance that demonstrated why he is a four-time world champion and one of the sport’s all-time greats. He proved his exceptional skill and determination by going from the very back of the pack to the very front, only to have the ultimate reward cruelly taken away by the very people sworn to support him.

The title of this story, “The Strategic Suicide,” is not hyperbole. The decision to pit Verstappen, described by many journalists and fans as “unacceptable,” turned a narrative of heroic comeback into one of agonizing strategic failure. The energy, the momentum, and the critical championship points were all sacrificed on the altar of a misguided tire change.

The focus for Red Bull now shifts to simply maximizing their final races, aiming to secure a respectable place in the Drivers’ Championship and repair the palpable sense of emotional and strategic damage. But for Formula 1 fans, the lasting memory of Brazil is not Lando Norris’s victory, but the heartbreaking moment when Max Verstappen’s championship hopes came to a screeching, self-inflicted halt, despite having produced arguably one of the most impressive, albeit ultimately futile, comeback drives of the entire season. The core message is clear: in the high-stakes world of Formula 1, sometimes the greatest opponent a driver faces is the headset on their own pit wall. This race was not lost on the track, but in the calculated, disastrous decision room of Red Bull Racing.

The Brazilian Grand Prix was supposed to be a chapter in a gripping Formula 1 title race. Instead, it delivered a moment of visceral controversy that has not only widened the gap between championship contenders but has also ignited a fierce debate about the very nature of aggressive racing. At the heart of the storm is Oscar Piastri, the young McLaren prodigy whose season-long fight for the title took a devastating hit, punctuated by a 10-second time penalty that was as controversial as it was consequential.

The fallout from the ruling is more than just a matter of lost points; it is a dramatic turning point. It has shone a spotlight on Piastri’s uncompromising, high-stakes approach to the sport, an approach he staunchly defends even as it pushes him perilously close to the precipice of a title defeat and, worryingly, a race ban.

The Anatomy of the Lap Six Disaster

The incident occurred early in the race, immediately following a safety car restart. The tension was palpable, and opportunity was fleeting. Piastri, hungry to claw his way into a podium position, identified a gap into the fast, challenging Turn 1. He attempted an ambitious three-wide maneuver that required absolute precision and the willingness of his competitors to yield.

The young Australian thrust his car alongside Kimi Antonelli and Charles Leclerc, a move of breathtaking boldness. However, as the three cars converged, Piastri locked his front left tire. The inevitable contact followed: Piastri made firm contact with Antonelli, which sent the Mercedes driver veering into the side of the Ferrari driven by Leclerc. For the Scuderia star, the race was over—terminal damage forced him into immediate retirement.

The outcome was messy, costly, and demanded investigation. The stewards, after reviewing the footage and data, deemed Piastri “wholly responsible” for causing the collision. The punishment was harsh: a 10-second time penalty added to his race time, coupled with two penalty points on his Super License. This devastating decision instantly evaporated his potential podium finish, demoting him to a frustrating fifth place and allowing his championship rival and teammate, Lando Norris, to extend his lead to a daunting 24 points.

A Driver Unapologetic: “I Can’t Disappear”

The raw statistics of the result are crushing, but it is Piastri’s defiant post-race reaction that has truly captivated and polarized the F1 community. Far from offering a measured apology or suggesting he might reflect on his aggression, Piastri stood his ground, revealing a mindset that is simultaneously his greatest strength and a potential Achilles’ heel.

When pressed on whether he regretted the high-risk maneuver, his answer was instantaneous and unequivocal. “No, I don’t think so. I had a very clear opportunity, I went for it,” he stated. He argued that the cars on the outside, Antonelli and Leclerc, braked comparatively late, boxing him in. His lock-up, he insisted, was a reaction, not a cause, saying, “that was because I could see Kimi was not going to give me any space. I can’t disappear.”

This attitude—the belief that he saw a gap and was entitled to take it, regardless of the consequences—is the signature of a champion-in-the-making. The history of Formula 1 is littered with legendary overtakes born from this exact brand of boldness and fearless commitment. Yet, it is also a thin line, and the stewards firmly believed Piastri had crossed it, transforming brave ambition into careless recklessness.

The Rulebook Versus the Art of Racing

The official reasoning from the FIA stewards centered on a strict interpretation of the rulebook. Their statement highlighted that Piastri did not meet the “required overlap” on Antonelli to be entitled to the corner. According to the FIA driving standards guidelines, a driver’s front axle must be alongside the mirror of the car they are overtaking to establish ownership of the space. Piastri’s car fell short of this technical requirement. The fact that he locked up and was unable to avoid contact only sealed his fate.

However, this technical ruling has been met with significant resistance from former F1 drivers and industry veterans, deepening the controversy. Martin Brundle, the revered Sky Sports commentator and former F1 driver, emphatically declared that if he were presented with the same opportunity 20 times, he would take it every single time. He viewed it as a legitimate, hard racing move.

Similarly, former driver Jolyon Palmer questioned whether the penalty was fundamentally flawed, suggesting it was “judged on the outcome rather than the move itself.” The disastrous result—Leclerc’s immediate retirement—likely weighed heavily on the stewards’ minds. In a stunning display of solidarity and sportsmanship, even Charles Leclerc, the victim who lost his entire race, defended Piastri, stating he did not believe the penalty was deserved.

This profound disagreement highlights one of modern Formula 1’s enduring challenges: the attempt to apply cold, consistent rules to the dynamic, heated art of racing. Every corner, every safety car restart, and every contact is unique. What constitutes a fair, aggressive maneuver to one observer can appear as dangerous driving to another. Piastri’s penalty has become the latest lightning rod for this decades-old philosophical conflict within the sport.

The Title Fight Hangs by a Thread

Beyond the debate over fairness, the most brutal impact of the penalty is on the 2025 championship battle. Piastri arrived in Brazil with realistic hopes of tightening the screws on his teammate, Lando Norris. He leaves with his title challenge severely weakened. Norris, who drove a brilliant race to victory, now enjoys a 24-point advantage, a significant cushion with only three races remaining.

While mathematically the title is still possible, the reality is that Piastri’s margin for error is now zero. He needs a perfect sequence of events: race wins, combined with significant misfortune or poor performance from Norris. Piastri acknowledged this brutal reality with a newly measured tone after discussing the incident itself. He stressed the need to focus on performance and “try and have the best weekends we can” in the final push. His realization is clear: dwelling on the past will not change the points deficit; only faultless execution in the races ahead can.

This situation also creates a serious internal dilemma for McLaren. With two drivers fighting for the top prize, the team has maintained a public stance of allowing them to race freely. However, with Norris now holding a commanding lead, the question of team orders looms larger than ever. If Piastri finds himself fighting Norris for a crucial position in Las Vegas or Qatar, will the team finally step in to protect their leading driver and ensure the championship comes home? The answer to this difficult question will define McLaren’s sporting integrity in the coming weeks.

The Ticking Time Bomb of Penalty Points

Adding a crippling layer of pressure to Piastri’s already difficult situation is the matter of his Super License penalty points. The two points he received in Brazil were not just a symbolic slap on the wrist; they pushed his total to a concerning eight penalty points over the rolling 12-month period.

The FIA threshold is 12 points, which results in an automatic, mandatory one-race ban. This means Piastri now has a ticking time bomb hanging over his head. He cannot afford to incur four more penalty points—the equivalent of two or three minor racing incidents—over the final three races.

This threat forces Piastri into an impossible balancing act. To close the 24-point gap, he must race aggressively, taking risks, sticking his car into gaps, and seizing every opportunity. Yet, he must simultaneously be hyper-aware of the slightest misjudgment that could lead to further penalties, which would immediately end his title challenge by sidelining him for an entire race. The very aggression that has defined his career and made him a champion-in-the-making is now a serious liability.

The Brazilian Grand Prix will be forever etched in the annals of the 2025 season as a pivotal moment. Before the race, Piastri was a true contender; after the race, he is fighting a desperate rear-guard action. His defiance is admirable, a promise that he will not change his style for fear of penalty. The championship now rests on whether that fierce, unyielding aggression can be channeled into clean, fast racing in the high-stakes environment of Las Vegas, Qatar, and Abu Dhabi. The title, a dream so close for so long, may ultimately hinge on a fraction of an inch, a split-second lock-up, and the philosophical conflict between the rulebook and the unadulterated passion of Formula 1.

Strictly Come Dancing professional Karen Hauer shared an update with her fans on Instagram following a tough night with just hours to go until the latest live show

Strictly Come Dancing star Karen Hauer shared an update on her dog Betty’s health after she underwent surgery. The pro dancer let her fans know that Betty is home and recovering following the procedure.

The beloved pet was recently diagnosed with cancer and has now been undergoing further tests to assess her condition. Betty was seen wearing a blue surgical recovery suit in a snap uploaded to Karen’s stories on Instagram.

She wrote over the post, “Our brave girl is home. A little bit out of it after surgery, but she’s doing so well. Now we wait for results.” She then shared a further update with a video where Betty was laying in her bed while Karen sat beside her on the floor stroking her ears.

In the clip Karen admitted that she and boyfriend, former rugby player Simon Davidson, hadn’t had much sleep with just hours to go before she had to head to work for tonight’s live Strictly show alongside her celebrity partner Harry Aikines-Aryeetey. However, she did admit that Betty had got a good night’s rest and was recovering well from her surgery.

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Karen shared the latest news about Betty

Speaking in the clip Karen said, “Just a little update on Betty. She slept okay last night, even though there were fireworks, and she’s not a fan of fireworks. But she managed to get some rest. Simon and I, really we didn’t get much sleep.

“He’s about to go running in a bit and then I’m going off to work in a bit as well. But she is very comfortable in her little suit, and all the other doggies are giving her some love. Even though they want to give her cuddles and kisses they’re trying to be good and stay away from her now.

“But she’s doing good. Our little baby. One day at a time. ”

Then, in a further update she showed Betty heading out for a gentle walk with Simon, while still wearing her surgery suit. Karen shared the devastating news of Betty’s diagnosis with her fans on social media last month.

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Karen is currently partnered with Gladiators star Harry on Strictly

At the time she shared pictures of Betty, including some from recent vet appointments, and explained, “Last week Simon felt two small lumps on Betty’s belly and under her armpit. We took her to the vet, and the results showed traces of cancer. Our hearts broke.

“It’s grade one as far as we know, and our vets have been absolutely incredible. They’ll be doing further tests to make sure they have all the info and can guide us through the next steps to give our Betty the best treatment possible.”

She then issued a warning to fans over their own pets as she continued, “Please check your fur babies for any lumps or bumps… early detection can make all the difference.”

Gloria Hunniford sadly lost husband Stephen Way last year after 30 years of marriage. Here, she opens up on the prospect of dating after such a loss – and moving on for the sake of her grandkids

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The veteran broadcaster opens up on life and love after losing her beloved husband Stephen(Image: Sue Andrews/Cover Images)

Gloria Hunniford lost her husband of 26 years last summer, 20 years after losing her beloved daughter Caron Keating, who passed away from breast cancer in 2004 at the age of just 41. Reminiscing about the many happy times she shared with them both, the 85-year-old TV host reflects on how life goes on while you’re coping with grief, her strong faith and how she focuses on feeling grateful for the wonderful memories they created.

Gloria cared for husband Stephen Way, who she married in 1998, during his “heroic fight” against illness, but he tragically passed away last August. Talking about the months since his loss, she says, “You have to do a head job every so often, it’s painful. You have to carve out a new type of life, don’t you? It’s quite hard really, at the beginning, and then slowly, slowly you sort of get into a different rhythm and a different situation.

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Gloria believes she ‘will see Stephen again'(Image: PA)

“Stephen and I had 30 years together. Some people never get 30 years of happiness, but I did, so as much as he is a huge loss, I am very grateful that I had that time with him. I was very lucky and have been very lucky in my life.”

Gloria also feels blessed to still live in the home they shared. “I’ve lived in that house for 40 years, so I love coming home. We were talking on Loose Women about happy places and I was saying I have a few happy places but I’m lucky in that I’m very happy going home to my own house. We have a lovely time there, so it’s full of memories.”

Asked if she feels Stephen’s presence around the house, she pauses before answering. “I believe I will see Caron again and I believe I will see Stevie again,” she says. “It’s not that I go to church every Sunday, but I have a very strong faith, and in life, you either believe there is somewhere you go after you die, or there isn’t. I choose to think there is.”

The Rip Off Britain presenter says thinking of her family and friends who need her boosts her resilience when it comes to her situation. “When Stephen was ill and he passed, you sort of think, ‘Well, what is the alternative?’ We have to get on with life for the family, the children, your grandchildren, your friends who need you.”

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The star says her late daughter Caron would have ‘loved’ the men her boys have become(Image: Daily Mirror)

As an octogenarian, Gloria is still sprightly and she puts her energy down to her strong work ethic, admitting that she ignores her children’s well-meaning advice to slow down and put her feet up at her holiday home in France.

“I like doing it all and I don’t stop. And if you work hard, you play hard. I think it’s down to my work ethic,” she says. “The work ethic is really important. We were taught in Northern Ireland to work and therefore I’ve always worked all my life, and I’ve always wanted to work.

“One of my sons says, ‘Mum, why don’t you go and stay in the family home in France? And I say, ‘I don’t want to!’ I wouldn’t change a thing because I worked my a**e off the whole time and I still work my a**e off. It will be 80 years next year in showbusiness because I started as a singer when I was still in the pram – well not quite, but almost. I love France and going on holidays, but I don’t want to stay there.”

When it comes to her health, Gloria knows how important it is to look after herself. “I’ve always been very conscious of my health and I’ve always been a great advocate of healthy alternatives and used that alongside anything I need,” she says. “But I’ve been lucky enough that I’ve never needed any serious stuff. I have a dodgy left knee – nothing worrying.”

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Gloria is still working, including her gig co-hosting Rip Off Britain(Image: BBC)

The presenter also relishes her role as a grandmother and says she finds it “very healing” watching her grandchildren grow in both their personal and professional lives.

“My grandchildren are lovely, getting older by the second,” she says with a smile. “Charlie got married last year and I can’t believe I’ve got a grandchild who’s 30. It’s very, very healing seeing the generations carry on, and because I do things and go to places they quite like, socially I keep up with them as well, which is really good.”

When asked what Caron would have thought about her son getting married, Gloria says, “She would have loved him. He’s the loveliest boy. They are both lovely boys. Charlie is the eldest and Gabriel is a few years younger. They’re doing well in their jobs and that’s exciting. Caron would have loved her daughter-in-law. I love her like my own grandchild. She’s a lovely girl.”

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Gloria opens up about her good male friends, including Cliff Richard(Image: Dave Benett/Getty Images)

There may be great-grandchildren to look forward to one day, but for now, Gloria remains tight-lipped on the subject. “I don’t know yet,” she says coyly. “What do you say?”

She is still close to her son-in-law Russ, Caron’s husband. “I was speaking to him the other day. We have a close bond. Russ is a lovely man. Caron was lucky to have Russ, just as I have been to have had Stephen for 30 years.”

Having experienced such love in her life, would Gloria look for romance again one day? “It’s not even in my head. It’s too raw yet. It’s only been just over a year,” she says. “But I like having male friends who I’ve had for decades – I like talking to them.” One of them is her dear friend Sir Cliff Richard. “He’s a very lovely friend, a good friend and very loyal,” she says fondly. “I’ve known him 55 years.”

Molly-Mae Hague has said she felt ready to have a baby when she fell pregnant with her daughter Bambi, but in hindsight, she wishes she had waited a little longer

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Molly-Mae Hague said she feels ‘pressure’ to have another baby(Image: YouTube )

Molly-Mae Hague has said she feels under “pressure” to have a second child while admitting that if she could go back in time, she would wait longer before having a baby.

The former Love Island star, 26, welcomed her daughter Bambi with Tommy Fury, also 26, in January 2023. The social media influencer often talks about motherhood on her YouTube and isn’t afraid to share the challenges she faces.

In a new interview for the cover story of the December/January issue of Cosmopolitan UK, Molly-Mae has shared further details on what being a mum means to her. She said she felt ready to have a baby at the age of 23 as she had travelled and built a career, but admitted that reflecting on it in hindsight has made her realise that she would have possibly wanted to wait longer.

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The parents were 23 when they welcomed Bambi(Image: @MOLLYMAE/instagram)

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Molly-Mae with her daughter(Image: Instagram )

She told Cosmopolitan: “I felt like I’d lived so much life by 23, I felt really ready for a new chapter. Tommy and I were in an incredible place and to have something that was half him, half me, just felt really special. I’ve never had any regrets about starting a family young.

“But if I could go back and maybe go again, would I have waited a few more years? Potentially. I would love more days to just sit and do absolutely nothing. They were great for my mental health.”

Molly-Mae also touched on the possibility of having another baby and admitted that expanding her family is constantly on her mind. She said: “I think about it a lot, and I feel a real pressure around it because I’m desperate to give Bambi a sibling.”

The Maebe founder said one of the reasons why she hopes to give her daughter a sibling is the strong bond she shares with her older sister, Zoe. She said: “My life wouldn’t have been the same without my sister. I want that for Bambi.

“But I would never want to do it just for her – I would also want to do it because it is something I want to do. At the same time as being a mum, I also have huge career ambitions and when I fell pregnant with Bambi, my biggest goal was that I didn’t want to lose my identity – I didn’t want to lose myself and my goals and my dreams and my business ambitions because I was becoming a mum.”

Last month, Molly-Mae faced yet more mum-shaming for some of the content in the latest instalment of her docuseries. An early episode of Molly-May: Behind It All series two included footage of the mum struggling to encourage Bambi to use the toilet, with a blurred shot of the youngster in the bath. The scenes caused a storm online, with some people saying it was “wild” and “concerning” that Molly-Mae and the production team had decided to leave in the images, especially given that she’s going to grow up in the public eye herself.

Our source told us that the backlash has hit the former Love Islander particularly hard because Bambi’s welfare is and always will be her number one priority. “She’s had a real shock with this backlash,” they claimed. “Stardom sort of landed on Molly’s plate when she went into Love Island but she’s had to accept over the past few years that the reality of that fame isn’t always an easy life.

“She really trusts her filming team but I think she’s realising that there’s more to a reality show than just filming random scenes from your day. Viewers expect more, and of course they’re going to critique every scene – it’s the same with the Coleen Rooney and Victoria Beckham shows. No one is immune to that critique and Molly can’t afford to take her eye off the ball. When you film a show like that you need to be in control and examine every little thing that’s going out.”