THERE ARE FEW, IF ANY, FORMS OF PRAISE higher than the accolade of ‘natural talent’. In the sporting arena it serves as the shorthand for greatness: a skillset seemingly encoded in DNA; physical attributes and mental acuity conferred by random chance or simple genetics. Max Verstappen is a natural talent, so too Lewis Hamilton. Go back through Formula 1 history and other names inevitably draw the appellation: Ayrton Senna; Gilles Villeneuve; Jim Clark. But there are others given that honorific rarely, if at all: Jackie Stewart; Alain Prost; Michael Schumacher. While they undoubtedly had natural talents, their descriptors tend to focus on other factors: hard work and application; people skills; shrewdness bordering on ingenuity. Where does Sebastian Vettel fit into this picture?
That he occupies a high seat in the grand prix pantheon is not in doubt. Right now, his record is being chiselled into the bedrock of F1 history. 300 races, 53 victories, 57 poles, four times a world champion. Still the youngest driver to win the world championship, one of the rare breed to win grands prix for three different teams – but how to classify him is more troubling: master craftsman or natural born racer?
A dozen years ago, coming into his pomp at Red Bull, Vettel was natural talent all the way: a teenage prodigy ripping up the record books, giggling while pretending to conduct an orchestra from the podium, tweaking the nose of his elders and making it all look effortless. But fast forward a decade, put some more miles on the clock and different stories emerge: the work ethic; the meticulous preparation, the interminable debriefs. Which is the more accurate representation?
Seb’s junior career was suitably stellar: German and European Junior
