The Formula 1 season concluded not with a celebration of victory, but with the haunting specter of ‘what if’ hanging over the Red Bull Racing garage. Max Verstappen, the prodigious talent who had mounted a near-impossible comeback, fell short of the Drivers’ Championship by a razor-thin margin of just two points to eventual title winner Lando Norris. It was a sporting tragedy of the highest order—a testament to the Dutchman’s grit, yet a painful reminder of a deficit too large to overcome.

Now, the narrative of a near-miss has been violently reshaped into a story of organizational failure. In a stunning post-season revelation, a former Red Bull power broker has laid the blame for the title loss not at the feet of the drivers, the engineers, or the racing gods, but squarely on the timing of a monumental boardroom decision: the dismissal of former Team Principal and CEO, Christian Horner.

The explosive accusation comes from none other than Helmut Marko, the long-serving motorsports adviser whose own storied collaboration with the energy drink giant concluded just after the final Grand Prix. Marko, who together with the late Dietrich Mateschitz founded Red Bull Racing, spoke with absolute conviction, shattering the façade of corporate solidarity and pointing directly to the organizational malaise that crippled the team’s early performance.

“If we had done it earlier, we would have got things back on track sooner and Max Verstappen would have been world champion this year. I’m absolutely convinced of that,” Marko stated. This is not mere speculation; it is an organizational indictment, suggesting the very delay in replacing the leadership was the factor that ultimately subtracted the two necessary points from Verstappen’s tally.

The Anatomy of a Crisis

To understand the emotional weight of Marko’s claim, one must revisit the fractured first half of the season. Despite flashes of brilliance, including victories at established hunting grounds, the dominant force that was Red Bull had become a shadow of its former self. The team’s challenger suffered from crippling inconsistency, an Achilles’ heel that Max Verstappen, even at his unparalleled best, could not compensate for.

As the season progressed through spring and early summer, the gap in the standings widened, transforming from a minor concern into a championship-threatening chasm. By the time the circus reached the critical Grand Prix, Verstappen was “falling further and further behind in the driver standings.” The crisis was evident on track, but according to Marko, its roots were internal.

It was following that crucial Grand Prix that the axe finally fell, and Christian Horner was “sacked as the chief executive and team principal of Red Bull Racing.” The media, as Marko noted, had long characterized the situation as a “reported power struggle.” While Marko attempted to play down the personal nature of the conflict—insisting it was “nothing personal” and that decision-making power had always resided in Austria—the effect of the internal instability on the car’s development and on-track consistency appears to be the core issue. Performance, as Marko starkly put it, “was falling behind.” The dismissal, therefore, was not a strategic shake-up but a necessary surgical intervention demanded by poor results.

The Lazarus Effect: A Near-Impossible Comeback

The immediate aftermath of Horner’s departure saw Laurent Mekies step into the leadership role, and the results were nothing short of miraculous. It was under Mekies’s stewardship that Max Verstappen began one of the most ferocious and determined championship comebacks in recent memory.

By the time the teams left the key summer Grand Prix, the gap to the championship leader was colossal—over 100 points in the standings. For all intents and purposes, the title fight should have been over. Yet, Verstappen and the newly stabilized Red Bull team refused to surrender. They began an unrelenting, race-by-race assault on the standings, chipping away at the seemingly insurmountable lead held by Lando Norris.

The second half of the season was a masterclass in driving and team execution, proving that the raw potential and speed were always present within the team. The consistency returned, the development pace accelerated, and Verstappen drove with the desperation and brilliance of a true champion fighting for his legacy. The comeback was so profound that by the final flag, Verstappen had closed the over 100-point deficit down to a mere two points behind the eventual champion.

This is the crux of Marko’s argument. The sheer scale of the turnaround in the second half of the season serves as empirical evidence that the car and driver package, once the organizational distraction was removed, was championship-winning caliber. If the necessary leadership change had been enacted sooner—say, before the critical mid-season development phase, or even earlier than the crucial Grand Prix—those lost points in the first half could have been secured. The two points needed for a fifth title were, in this estimation, sacrificed on the altar of administrative delay.

The New Guard: Hajar and the Reset

The internal drama and the painful lesson immediately cast a long shadow over Red Bull’s plans for the future. Yet, as one era ends, another begins, and the team is already focused on the monumental changes coming under the new technical regulations. This focus is highlighted by the promotion of a young, ambitious talent: Isak Hajar.

Hajar, fresh off a “very impressive rookie season” in the Red Bull Junior team, which included securing a podium, has been promoted to drive alongside Verstappen. He becomes the latest driver to partner Verstappen, a statistic that underscores the immense pressure and instability of the Red Bull second seat.

Hajar is pragmatic about the challenge. He understands the difficulty of immediately matching Verstappen’s pace and has adopted a cautious, long-term mindset, which stands in stark contrast to the high-pressure churn of recent Red Bull history.

“If anything, the goal is to accept that I’m going to be slower the first month,” Hajar admitted. “If you go into that mindset, you accept already that it’s going to be very tough looking at the data and seeing things you can’t achieve yet. It’s going to be very frustrating, but if you know, then you’re more prepared.”

Crucially, Hajar views the timing of his arrival as a strategic benefit, directly related to the new technical regulations coming for the power unit and chassis.

“It’s a new car. It’s not like Max knows the car. We all start from scratch,” he explained. “I feel very, very lucky in the way I’m coming to Red Bull, so it’s going to be very beneficial.” This new beginning, where both the veteran champion and the rookie start on a level playing field regarding car knowledge, offers Red Bull a genuine opportunity for complete organizational and technical reset, free from the shadow of the Horner-era inconsistencies. Hajar even suggests his “input” could shape the car’s direction.

A Legacy of ‘What If’

The departure of two long-standing titans, Horner and Marko, in the same tumultuous period signals an epochal shift at Red Bull Racing. The team is now entering a new era under entirely new leadership and with a rejuvenated young talent alongside its champion.

But the final, stinging remark from Helmut Marko will undoubtedly define the immediate legacy of the season. The question is no longer how Max Verstappen missed the title, but why the Red Bull leadership failed to act fast enough to save it. It’s a powerful narrative—the champion was fighting not just Lando Norris on the track, but organizational inertia in the boardroom.

The conclusion is inescapable: the two-point difference separating Verstappen from the title was a direct consequence of a delayed management decision. The tragedy is that the title was, in Marko’s absolute conviction, there for the taking. It was simply lost in the high-stakes politics and indecision of the off-track drama, leaving behind a bitter and unforgettable ‘what if’ for the entire Red Bull organization. The new era must now prove it has learned the painful lesson of its predecessor: in the world of Formula 1, managerial clarity is just as vital as aerodynamic perfection.