How a death can unify a sport

Breaking a story of someone’s death is never easy, no matter what area that story falls under, but there is something particularly difficult about doing so when that person is a young individual with their best years ahead of them.

That was the case this weekend with 22-year-old Anthoine Hubert, the Formula Two driver who was killed during the main support race to the Formula One Belgian Grand Prix.

From the moment live footage of the accident was broadcast worldwide, it was obvious that the situation was serious. Crashes are part and parcel of motorsport, but there are certain accidents where instinct kicks in and a voice is immediately heard: “People don’t walk away from accidents like that one.”

Tragically, so it proved. Less than an hour and a half after the crash, Hubert was pronounced dead and the motorsport world went into mourning. In one single moment, a story confined to the sport and its fans suddenly became headline news across the globe. Front and back pages included pictures and words of a young man that those newspapers had never mentioned before, news bulletins featured the words “tragedy strikes Spa” and other headlines to similar effect.

It is perhaps the most difficult thing in sports journalism at that point to separate the sadness from the story, and writers very much go into autopilot mode, filtering out the rumours and the false reports to bring readers only the facts. I certainly know that’s what I did on Saturday. Only once the official Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile statement lands, the news is published and the tributes flow, do you really have time to take in what has happened.

I did not know Anthoine Hubert, but the sight of a paddock in mourning was enough to make even the most ardent petrolheads question whether it was all worth it. However, doing something so exhilarating, so frightening and so ridiculous that it feels as though it should not be legal to do so, is integral to many fans’ love of the sport.

The next day, Hubert’s mother and brother were stood at the front of the F1 grid during a minute’s silence, unifying the paddock in strength as 20 Grand Prix drivers prepared to hurtle towards the corner that killed him at speeds in excess of 170mph. It was the perfect reminder of why we do something we love in the knowledge of the risk involved, and it’s why we will continue to do it tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

Yours,

Jack de Menezes

Deputy sports editor