They’re already counting the gap. Already measuring him against Charles Leclerc like the story is finished. Sixth place. Eighty-six points behind. Numbers thrown like verdicts.
Jean Alesi doesn’t flinch. He steps in and cuts through it. Not fair, he says. Not even close.
Because this isn’t a continuation. It’s a reset. New car. New engineers. New language inside the garage. Hamilton didn’t just change teams — he walked into a system that doesn’t move like Mercedes ever did.
And Formula 1 doesn’t wait for adaptation. It punishes it.
Leclerc knows the rhythm. Knows where the SF-26 breathes and where it breaks. Hamilton is still learning that in real time, at 300 km/h, with no margin for hesitation. That’s the difference. Not talent. Not legacy. Timing.
Here’s the strike: this was never supposed to be instant. But everyone demanded it anyway. Seven titles don’t buy patience — they erase it. The expectation wasn’t progress. It was domination.
And when domination didn’t show up, the criticism did.
But Alesi sees something else. China. Melbourne. Flashes. Not nostalgia — proof. Hamilton still has it. The pace is there. The fire is there. What’s missing is alignment.
And that doesn’t come overnight.
So the image sticks — Hamilton in red, still adjusting, still chasing that perfect lap where everything clicks. Not finished. Not fading. Just not there yet.