Somebody make Palou miserable

I want Pato O’Ward or an Andretti driver to make Alex Palou’s life thoroughly unpleasant. Competitively. Over an entire season. No consolatory speeches about what a privilege it is to race against greatness. I know he is great. That is the fucking problem.

Following McLaren and Andretti means living with two versions of hope. McLaren gives me Pato, with all the expectation that attaches itself to him. Andretti gives me the possibility of a weekend when the whole thing clicks and the established order suddenly looks vulnerable. I want those possibilities to stop feeling like visiting hours.

Lundgaard removes an excuse

Christian Lundgaard put six podiums together in his first McLaren season and finished fifth in 2025. Pato finished second; Kirkwood was fourth. Lundgaard’s road-and-street points were second only to Palou’s, while his oval points ranked eighth. [1]

That last distinction is where my optimism starts an argument with itself. The speed is there. The championship does not allow a favorite subset of tracks. Ganassi is not going to surrender the trophy because the orange cars have become a more convincing threat on the circuits we feel good about.

Lundgaard matters because Pato cannot be the only evidence that McLaren belongs in this fight. A second car up there changes the weight of the expectation. It also makes the weekends when it all slips away harder to dismiss. I want that pressure. A team comfortable collecting compliments about progress is a team I am going to start shouting at.

I do not want the villain to disappear

Palou being difficult to beat is the point. I do not want a championship gift-wrapped by somebody else’s collapse. I want our drivers to arrive with enough pace and enough control over the ugly weekends that the favorite has to respond.

There is a particular satisfaction in watching the driver everyone expects to manage the race get dragged into somebody else’s fight. That is what I want more of. Less inevitability. More discomfort. An afternoon where the familiar calm on the other side of the garage becomes a luxury they cannot afford.

My Andretti and McLaren loyalties will eventually make that inconvenient. Good. Let Kirkwood and Pato give me an argument worth having. I can survive choosing between two cars I want at the front. I have had plenty of practice with neither.

Second place does not mean you were one good decision from a championship. It means the next step still has to happen. I am done admiring how close the door looks. Somebody kick the damn thing open.