The storied halls of Maranello were meant to welcome a king, a seven-time World Champion whose arrival promised a seismic shift in Formula 1’s landscape and the long-awaited end to Ferrari’s decades-long title drought. Yet, as the current Formula 1 season barrels towards its final checkered flag, the reality of Lewis Hamilton’s debut year in red is not a fairy tale—it is a full-blown crisis, escalating from poor results on the track to a scorched-earth battle in the pages of the Italian press.

The honeymoon period is unequivocally over. What began with the glittering promise of collaboration has devolved into an atmosphere heavy with disappointment, culminating in a vicious media backlash that accuses the legendary British driver of the ultimate sin: abandoning his post and shirking responsibility. The faithful Tifosi, famed for their passionate loyalty and even more passionate outrage, are in open revolt. For a driver who has redefined success in the modern era, the raw emotional fallout has forced Hamilton himself to label his current campaign the “worst season of his Formula 1 career.”

This is more than just a typical slump; it is a profound clash between expectation and reality, a collision between a champion’s pride and an underperforming machine, the SF-25. The tension reached its most visible and dramatic peak during the Las Vegas Grand Prix, a spectacle designed for glory but which delivered only humiliation. Hamilton suffered a career-first—a last-place qualifying result—a staggering blow to a man accustomed to leading the pack. Though he managed a recovery drive to eighth place, the damage, both mathematical and psychological, had been done.

It was in the subsequent media duties that Hamilton’s frustrations boiled over, providing the fuel for the current inferno. His stark assessment—that this season was his worst ever—was not just a comment; it was a detonation. In Italy, the reaction was immediate and unforgiving.

The Scathing Verdict of the Italian Press

The most damaging blow landed courtesy of Giorgio Tarutzi of Corriere della Sera. In a sharply-edged post-Vegas column, the prominent Italian journalist did not mince words, launching an extraordinary attack that went right to the heart of Hamilton’s character and commitment. Tarutzi painted a picture of “disarmament and disaffection” within the Scuderia’s garage, claiming that both Hamilton and his teammate Charles Leclerc—who himself admitted he won’t miss wrestling with the unpredictable SF25—are utterly “fed up” with the car.

But the accusation leveled directly at Hamilton was brutal. Tarutzi wrote that the British star “shirks all responsibility even though he has more than his fair share.” This is an indictment that strikes deeper than any technical failure; it suggests a moral failing, a lack of the dedication and leadership Ferrari expected when signing him. For a global icon, this level of scrutiny is unprecedented and devastating. The narrative has shifted from one of a struggling team to one of a struggling driver who is perceived to be washing his hands of the mess he joined.

The column went further, claiming the drivers are voicing criticism “in spite of the president’s warning,” refuting the “platitudes” that were supposedly agreed upon for reasons of state. In the eyes of the Italian media, Hamilton’s frustration is not a sign of competitive fire, but a calculated move to distance himself from the SF-25’s failures, preserving his personal brand while the team burns.

Vasseur Steps In: A Calm Defense Against Panic

In the eye of this swirling emotional storm sits Team Principal Fred Vasseur, tasked with the near-impossible job of managing a frustrated champion, an exasperated local star (Leclerc), and the hysterical demands of the press and the Tifosi. Vasseur’s response has been one of measured calm, pushing back against the narrative of complete catastrophe and, crucially, defending his star driver.

Vasseur rejects the label of “complete disaster” for the current campaign, pointing out that Ferrari was still P2 in the championship standings recently. While acknowledging the tough recent outings—six or seven points scored over recent races—he insists the situation is “not so dramatic.”

His most significant intervention, however, came in explaining Lewis Hamilton’s gloomy post-race comments. Vasseur understands the ecosystem of Formula 1, explaining to the media that comments made in the “TV pen immediately after the race” are a natural and “normal reaction” to a bruising weekend, driven by adrenaline and raw emotion. The Frenchman stressed that he would be far more worried if Hamilton had reacted differently.

“I prefer to have drivers being very open at the end of the race when you didn’t do the perfect job… to say ‘okay I’m frustrated.’ And someone going to the TV pen saying ‘I know guys the team is perfect the car is good.’ blah blah blah in this case you would be upset,” Vasseur articulated. He added that he “would be worried if we didn’t have this kind of frustration when we are doing P10.”

Vasseur is effectively telling the Tifosi to calm down and focus on the bigger picture. His defense shifts the conversation from blame to performance potential, arguing that Hamilton’s current mathematical failures—the DNF in Brazil, the penalty in Mexico, the qualifying struggle in Vegas—have all masked moments of underlying “pure performance” that were strong. He points out that Austin and Mexico, prior to the penalty, showed some of Hamilton’s best pace of the year.

The Team Principal maintains that Ferrari is missing only one “crucial ingredient: a trouble-free weekend from start to finish.” It is not a matter of pure, fundamental performance deficiency, Vasseur insists, but a struggle to “put everything together” and avoid “unfortunate incidents” like contact or penalties.

The Path Forward: Determination, Not Revolution

The constant barrage of questions about sweeping changes and internal revolutions has been firmly dismissed by Vasseur. He maintains that while the pressure is immense and the desire to improve is in the “DNA of the racing team,” a drastic overhaul is not the immediate solution.

“We didn’t put everything together the last two hours of the weekend and it’s why on the mathematical side and on the championship we did a huge step down. But in terms of pure performance, I think it’s also why we are not in so bad shape compared to earlier in the campaign,” Vasseur explained. The emphasis is on determination, focus, and incremental improvement, not panic.

The entire team, he says, must “work harder and to come back at the next race with more determination, more focus and to try to avoid mistakes and to develop the car but it’s nothing that we have to change drastically.”

For Hamilton, the disconnect between his lofty hopes upon joining Ferrari and the cold, hard reality of the results has undoubtedly bruised his legendary pride. To be consistently fighting for scraps instead of podiums, to suffer career-worst moments, and then to be accused of apathy by the very media that should be celebrating his commitment is a trial by fire unlike any he has faced before.

Yet, this intense pressure is the essence of Ferrari. It is a crucible that demands not just speed, but a psychological fortitude to withstand the perpetual, unforgiving expectation of victory. The challenge now for Hamilton is to internalize Vasseur’s counsel: what truly matters is not what is said in the heat of the moment in the TV pen, but the calm, focused work done back at the factory immediately afterwards.

With the sweeping technical regulations of the next generation looming, Ferrari hopes for a true reset, a new platform upon which to finally build a championship contender capable of ending the long drought. But until then, Hamilton must navigate the final few races of his “worst season ever,” carrying the heavy weight of the Scuderia’s failure and the shocking contempt of a section of the Italian press. Is he shirking responsibility, as Tarutzi claims? Or is this just the raw, understandable frustration of a true champion who is simply not being given the tools to win? The question remains the most dramatic talking point in Formula 1, and the answer will define the legacy of Lewis Hamilton’s time in red. The stage is set for a climax defined not by trophies, but by resilience against a tide of internal and external pressure.

The ultimate tragedy is the chasm between the driver’s immense capability and the car’s current limitations. The accusations are sensational, but the facts presented by Vasseur—of bad luck masking good pace—suggest the struggle is one of execution, not commitment. Lewis Hamilton is not shirking responsibility; he is simply facing the toughest, most emotionally exhausting challenge of his career, a situation that demands a defense from his team and unwavering focus from the man himself as he battles to prove his detractors—and the hysterical headlines—wrong. The current season may be a loss, but the fight for the future of the team, and for his reputation in the eyes of the Tifosi, has only just begun.