Max Verstappen insists he wants to be a Red Bull man until the end of his career. The “family is great,” he says; staying forever is “still the dream.”
It sounds touching, a modern fairy-tale of loyalty in an era of cynical contracts. But in Formula One, this is nonsense — and Verstappen knows it.
No champion of stature has ever truly been a “one-team man.” Not Senna, not Schumacher, not Hamilton. The sport is far too ruthless for sentiment. Allegiance lasts exactly as long as the car is quickest. Once the stopwatch turns against you, the dream of “for life” evaporates.
Red Bull’s PR machine peddles Verstappen’s vow because it flatters the team’s image. It reassures sponsors, calms fans, and makes Milton Keynes feel like a dynasty in the making. But behind the glossy messaging lies the hard truth: loyalty is conditional, and Red Bull faces a cliff edge.
From 2026, they will gamble everything on an unproven in-house engine. Even Verstappen has admitted it is “a risk”. That is polite understatement. Engine programmes devour billions, collapse careers, and expose teams to humiliating failure. If Red Bull’s new power unit stutters, Verstappen’s loyalty will be tested in the only way that matters: by lap time.
History could not be clearer. Schumacher did not linger at Benetton after his titles; he jumped to Ferrari and built an empire. Hamilton was derided as reckless when he walked out of McLaren for a winless Mercedes. He ended up with six more titles. Senna, after years of McLaren dominance, defected to Williams in search of the fastest car. Champions do not wait for “family” to catch up. They move.
If Red Bull’s new era misfires, Verstappen will face the same choice — and he will not stick around for the sake of nostalgia. Mercedes will dangle a cheque. Ferrari will whisper about reviving history. Aston Martin, flush with Honda engines, will pitch itself as the next juggernaut. Loyalty will last only as long as the Red Bull car remains king.
The “for life” talk also flatters Red Bull’s sense of permanence. Teams rise and fall in Formula One with brutal speed. Williams once dominated; now they scrap for points. McLaren were giants, then became a midfield curiosity. Even mighty Ferrari have spent decades lost in their own wilderness. To believe that Red Bull’s current supremacy will glide on unbroken into the 2030s is folly.
The danger is that Red Bull’s leadership believes its own mythology. Horner’s departure already unsettles the garage. Helmut Marko admits certain tracks still expose weaknesses. Rivals are closing the gap. Yet the party line remains that Verstappen is here “forever.” Such complacency is poison in a sport where fortunes can turn inside a single regulation cycle.
Verstappen’s “dream” of finishing with Red Bull should not be mistaken for a vow. It is a polite script, a line that keeps the fanbase happy and the sponsors calm. But the stopwatch, not sentiment, decides futures in Formula One. When 2026 arrives, and Red Bull’s home-built engine finally runs in anger, we will see how long that dream survives.
The reality is stark: Verstappen is loyal to one thing only — winning. Red Bull must keep giving him the machinery to deliver it. Fail, and he will walk. The legends always have.
