In the high-stakes, high-speed “piranha club” of Formula 1, it is a well-worn truth that the sport is more than just racing. It is a brutal game of survival, where timing, money, and ruthless political maneuvering can be just as critical as raw talent. Nowhere has this been more painfully illustrated than in the long-running driver saga at the struggling Alpine F1 team. A new twist has finally brought this drama to a head, securing one man’s dream while appearing to shatter another’s.

The news from the paddock is that Franco Colapinto, the young Argentinian driver, is set to be confirmed as Alpine’s race driver for the 2026 season, partnering with Pierre Gasly. On the surface, it’s the end of a long evaluation. But beneath this simple announcement lies a story of public humiliation, psychological mind games, and a “jilted” driver left stuck on the sidelines with a pocket full of broken promises.

This driver is Jack Doohan. The confirmation of Colapinto effectively ends any hope Doohan had of a comeback with the team, a team that dropped him earlier this year to make way for Colapinto in the first place. This decision isn’t just a career setback; it’s the devastating conclusion to a period of intense uncertainty where, as it turns out, the hope he was given was just an illusion.

To understand the emotional wreckage, one must first look at the improbable journey of the man who took his seat. Colapinto’s path to a 2026 contract was anything but smooth. His promotion was a baptism by fire, and just a few months ago, his future looked anything but certain. In August, Alpine’s formidable boss, Flavio Briatore, unleashed a stunning and highly public critique of his new driver. Briatore openly suggested that promoting Colapinto was an error, stating, “maybe it wasn’t the time to have Franco in F1” and admitting, “it’s not what I expected from Colinto.”

It was a shocking public dressing-down, one that would have shattered the confidence of most young drivers. At the time, Colapinto was struggling, and the team, mired at the back of the championship, was in disarray. But in the cutthroat world of F1, things are rarely as they seem. Many now view Briatore’s comments not as a genuine critique, but as a calculated, high-risk psychological ploy. Was it a tactic to “light a fire” under his driver? Or, perhaps more cynically, was it to “tease a bit more money” out of Colapinto’s significant backer, Mercado Libre?

If it was a ploy, it worked.

Since those scathing comments, Colapinto’s competitive situation has “much improved.” He began to find his footing, returning to tracks he had some experience on. He dramatically outpaced Paul Aron, his only real rival for the seat, in a key practice session in Mexico. While his season has been far from perfect—marred by an unnecessary controversy in the US where he refused a team order, an act for which he was forced to apologize—the general trend has been upward. He has been much closer to his veteran teammate, Gasly, and has shown flashes of the pace Alpine needs.

For a failed works team that has publicly admitted it has “much bigger problems” and is putting all its “eggs in the becoming a Mercedes customer… will fix everything basket,” Colapinto became the path of least resistance. He is the “sensible continuity pick,” bringing significant financial backing and improving form to a team that desperately needs stability, or at least a scapegoat.

But this stability has come at a devastating human cost. And that cost is named Jack Doohan.

Colapinto’s gain is Doohan’s direct, personal, and profound loss. His F1 chance, which he had worked his entire life for, was “immediately undermined” the moment Briatore brought Colapinto in. After just six race weekends, Doohan was unceremoniously dropped. The move was widely panned by experts and fans at the time as “unfair on Doohan and premature,” given how little time he’d had to make progress.

But the real cruelty wasn’t just the firing. It was the false hope that followed.

Alpine didn’t just cut Doohan loose. They framed Colapinto’s promotion as an “evaluation” and a “rotation,” explicitly leaving the door open for Doohan to return. This wasn’t a quiet suggestion. The transcript from “THE RACE” reveals a shocking detail: Doohan was “told on multiple occasions this side of the summer break that he had chances to regain his seat” before the end of the season.

The team, led by Briatore, apparently gave Doohan a specific, tangible path back: find money. This is the ultimate test in modern F1. Talent can get you to the door, but a checkbook is often what gets you in. So Doohan and his team did exactly what was asked of them. In a desperate bid to save his career, “Duan’s team was able to source enough funding to satisfy what Briator had asked for.”

He did it. He had the talent, and now, he had the money. He had fulfilled his side of the bargain.

And it didn’t matter.

In a final, brutal twist, while Doohan was out raising funds, Colapinto was improving on track. Crucially, his key backer, Mercado Libre, “locked in its financial support for the remainder of the year.” Briatore had what he wanted. He had a driver who was performing better and had secured funding. The door that had been left “a jar” for Jack Doohan was “quickly slammed shut in his face.”

Today, Doohan finds himself a man without a future, trapped in a contract that has become a prison. He has “no meaningful F1 future” at Alpine. While he is still technically the team’s reserve driver, it is a hollow title. He has been sidelined in every sense of the word. His simulator support work has been “limited.” A planned test in an older car was “called off.” He’s not as involved as a reserve driver should be.

In a heartbreaking detail, the young Australian is now reportedly driving “junior formula cars at his own expense” just to stay race-sharp. He has not had a full season of racing since 2023, and his career is now completely paralyzed. He is a driver in his prime, with talent and now even funding, who is being actively prevented from racing by the very team that once promised him the world.

This entire saga is a brutal, cautionary tale. It is a perfect snapshot of a sport where loyalty is fleeting and promises are tools of negotiation, not bonds of trust. As Doohan’s management now explores potential test and reserve roles with other teams like Haas, Williams, or Sauber, they are left to “unpick a complex situation.”

One man, Franco Colapinto, survived the mind games and secured his dream. Another, Jack Doohan, played by the rules, met every demand, and was left with nothing. The drama at Alpine has created a winner and a loser, but the sport itself has once again revealed its cold, unforgiving heart.