In the high-speed, high-pressure world of Formula 1, every millisecond is worth its weight in gold. A strategic decision, a stunning overtake, or even the slightest mistake in a pit stop can completely alter the outcome of a race and, indeed, an entire season. The 2025 Azerbaijan Grand Prix has become a worrying landmark not only for the McLaren team but also for the world championship ambitions of its star driver, Lando Norris. A seemingly simple pit stop error, lasting 4.1 seconds, not only cost Norris two positions but also exposed an alarming pattern of repeated mistakes that threatens to shatter a very promising season.

The race in Baku was not just another event on the F1 calendar; it was a grueling test of strategy, skill, and responsiveness under difficult conditions. For McLaren, it was a chance to solidify their technical dominance from the start of the season. For Lando Norris, it was a real opportunity to win a challenging race, facing direct rivals who would not forgive the slightest error. And on that fateful 38th lap, the unthinkable happened: a mistake, but not just any mistake—one that could rewrite the entire script of the 2025 season.

As the race entered its most critical strategic phase, the pit stop window opened with tantalizing promise. In Baku, the “undercut” strategy—getting ahead of a rival by pitting earlier and leveraging new tires—is extremely powerful thanks to long straights that allow tires to heat up faster than on other street circuits. McLaren was fully aware of this. Their plan was clear: call Norris into the pits at the perfect moment so that he, on fresh tires, could pass Charles Leclerc. It was a surgical move calculated to the millimeter, but the execution failed spectacularly.

The traffic light in the pit lane glowed red for 4.1 seconds—four seconds that felt like an eternity. The air gun that was supposed to tighten the nut on the front-right tire slipped. It wasn’t an obvious failure to the naked eye, but its effect was devastating. The socket didn’t seat properly, and when the mechanic activated the tool, it spun without grip, creating a small spark and wasting precious time. A second attempt was needed, and in Formula 1, those delayed seconds are more expensive than millions of euros spent on aerodynamic development.

In that brief interval, Norris’s strategic advantage evaporated. Leclerc, who was pushing hard, managed to hold his position. Worse still, George Russell, who had been just out of reach before the stops, also managed to get past. Norris went from fighting for second place to finding himself behind both rivals. He didn’t just lose time; he lost clean air, he lost pace, and he lost control of the race’s narrative.

It is crucial to understand that regaining positions in Baku is no simple task. Although the circuit has long straights, the tight sections and braking zones are extremely technical. The car in front always has a slight advantage, and the DRS system doesn’t always guarantee an overtake. Norris was caught in a “train” of cars managed by experienced drivers with defensive strategies designed to neutralize McLaren’s tire advantage.

But the impact wasn’t just on the immediate result. What was more serious was what it revealed. This was not an isolated human error; it was a symptom of a deeper problem within McLaren’s operational system—a system that, despite the brilliance in the design and development of the MCL39, still shows cracks at key moments. For a driver like Norris, who has waited years for the perfect car, this can be as frustrating as losing a race on the final corner. This was the moment everything changed: a pit stop that should have been a catapult to victory, or at least a solid second place, became an anchor that dragged Norris down to a fourth-place finish. And in a championship as tight as 2025’s, that’s a loss that could weigh heavily for months.

Was it just bad luck, or a sign that McLaren has yet to tame its own past ghosts? The truth is, Baku was just another scar in the history of Lando Norris’s missed opportunities—a story still being written with talent, but also with mistakes that, at the highest level of Formula 1, are paid for with positions and with championships.

What happened in Azerbaijan was not an anomaly, not a one-off stumble. It was the confirmation of a pattern that has been silently eroding McLaren’s reliability in the pits. When something happens once, it’s labeled an accident. But when it starts to repeat, it becomes a signal. And that signal points directly to the heart of a structural problem that McLaren has not been able to fix.

In Monza, two weeks prior, Lando Norris had a similar experience. There, the problem wasn’t with the front-right tire but the left, and it wasn’t 4.1 seconds like in Baku, but 5.9 seconds—almost six seconds stationary on a track like Monza, known for its high speeds and tight margins. Losing nearly four extra seconds compared to an optimal stop is catastrophic. Yet, it happened again, to Norris again, with an air gun again, during a key race.

When these events are analyzed in sequence, a worrying picture emerges: McLaren, despite its excellent on-track performance and a world-class technical unit, is failing in what should be its most controlled area—the pit stops. The pit stop is the only time the car is no longer driven by the driver but is completely in the hands of the team. And it is there that they are losing races.

The data speaks for itself: so far in the 2025 season, McLaren has recorded 16 pit stops over 3 seconds. Of those, eight exceeded 3.5 seconds, and three crossed the critical 4-second mark. No other top team has similar figures. Red Bull, with all its internal crises, continues to average fewer operational errors. Mercedes, even with a less dominant car, has been clinically precise in the pits. Ferrari, traditionally one of the most erratic teams in the pit lane, has far surpassed McLaren in consistency this year.

When the car arrives in the pit box after several laps at the limit, the right-side tires are at their highest temperature point. This directly affects two key factors: the thermal expansion of the nut and the sensitivity of the air gun’s coupling. The expansion of the metal in that area is enough to alter the expected behavior of the tools, forcing the operator to apply different pressure or slightly modify the entry angle. A single millimeter off the ideal angle, and the gun can slip, as it did with Norris.

The pit entry in Baku is one of the most treacherous of the season. It is preceded by a medium-speed corner, which means the driver arrives in the pit lane with a slight lateral load still active. This creates micro-vibrations on the front axle just before stopping completely. If the car doesn’t stop exactly at the optimal point, even if it’s off by a few centimeters, it can force the pit crew to manually adjust their position to access the nuts. That slight mismatch introduces a second of doubt, and in Formula 1, a second is an eternity.

The MCL39, on the other hand, adds another layer of complexity. This car was designed with an extremely aggressive approach to mass distribution and dynamic balance. It has a fiercer front end than its predecessors, which favors its corner entry but also makes it more sensitive to micro-variations in temperature and chassis flexion. In other words, what makes it fast on the track makes it more unpredictable in the pits when conditions are not ideal.

And here lies the core of the problem. McLaren, in its quest for aerodynamic efficiency and technical advantage, may be pushing its design beyond what its operational procedures can control. In Baku, that manifested as a 4.1-second stop. But what’s at stake is not just those four-tenths of a second. What’s at stake is the credibility of the entire system, because if you can’t trust that your car will stop and go without a hitch at the exact moment you need it most, your entire on-track advantage—in technical development, in driver consistency—falls apart. It’s like building a castle with millimeter precision on an unstable foundation.

The ultimate irony is that Baku, with its chaotic street circuit appearance, actually exposes the hidden deficiencies in a team’s structure. It doesn’t punish talent; it punishes a lack of surgical preparation. And McLaren, for the second consecutive race, showed that it still has a weak point right where it hurts the most—at the moment where details make all the difference.

Modern Formula 1 is no longer decided only in corners or on straights, nor is it decided solely by driver talent or aerodynamic advancements. It is decided in the margins, in the silence between the engine’s roars, in the two or three seconds a car enters the pits and the world stops. And it is in that microscopic fragment of time that McLaren—the most dominant team in terms of race pace this 2025 season—is showing cracks. Not because the car is failing, not because Norris or Piastri are making mistakes on track, but because the most automated and choreographed part of the competition, the part that should work with the precision of a Swiss watch, is becoming its Achilles’ heel.

Analyzed coldly, the MCL39 has proven to be the most complete car of the year. It wins in pure speed, excels in long-stint consistency, and has improved on circuits where it previously struggled. Lando Norris leads the championship on his own merits, with brilliant performances that speak of a driver who has reached competitive maturity. Oscar Piastri, meanwhile, has maintained a consistency that places him among the solid contenders for the top three in the drivers’ championship. There are no weaknesses in the cars, no driving errors. The problem lies in operational execution.

And that is where the question becomes disturbing: Is McLaren losing the championship in the pit lane? The answer is not a simple “yes” or “no.” What is happening is more complex. McLaren has reached such a high level of technical excellence that any small mistake is magnified. In this context, a 4.1-second stop is not just a slow stop; it is a lost opportunity, a strategic disadvantage, a door opened for Red Bull, Mercedes, or Ferrari.

Red Bull, with all its internal conflicts, has shown that its operational structure remains one of the most efficient. Ferrari, historically prone to errors, has corrected many of its weaknesses under Vasseur’s leadership. Mercedes, even without the fastest car, is impeccable in the pits. Everyone is waiting for McLaren to make more mistakes because they know they can’t beat them on pure pace, but they can capitalize on any carelessness.

Therefore, what happened in Azerbaijan is not just an anecdote. It is a warning. If McLaren wants to crown Norris as world champion, it needs more than a brilliant car. It needs a structure that operates with surgical precision in every race, every stop, every detail. Because at this level, the luxury of making mistakes no longer exists.