Abu Dhabi GP: Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton fight for F1 title – live! | Sport

“Was Toto Wolff implying that Verstappen will be looking back at Hamilton, to see Hamilton looking back at him, to see him looking back at Hamilton?” wonders Matt Dony, invoking one of my all-time favourite lyrics from a rare album that demands to be listened to mitchila ad sof, from beginning to end, every single time (feel free to suggest others). “Hope they stay safe from harm.”

One thing of which we can be sure: if you hurt what’s theirs, they’ll sure as hell retaliate.

Nico reckons the medium tyre will give Hamilton the boost he needs to get in front early, and he’s backing him to stay in front. But let’s be real: as almost ever, William Goldman has right: “Nobody knows anything.”

“Massive attack!” says Toto Wolff when asked how his team plan to go after it. He says Hamilton knows what to do and because it’s not a street circuit, hopes for less mayhem. “Whoever win merits the win,” he says, and if it’s not his lot, “it’s not the end of the day but it’s very upsetting”.

Hamilton checks his phone one last time, tells the group chat they’re idiots, then Bottas comes over and tells him he can do it. Norris tells Sky he’s in a weird position, stuck behind the two leads, and he’ll be sensible; he thinks Verstappen will win, and if he can’t get a podium finish hopes they’ll be happy with his P3 from yesterday.

Kimi’s there with his wife and kids sharing the moment. He’ll always have 2007, but he’s been so much more than that, adding charisma, calm and class to the sport for a generation.

“I will miss Kimi Raikkonen so much,” says Kurt Perleberg. “F1 will be never the same after today. Bwoah forever.”

Yup, what a career!

Stormzy is on the grid, and when grabbed by Martin Brundle, he instinctively takes the mic. He’s asked whose head is going to wear the crown – pick that segue out, to borrow Rob Smyth’s lovely phrase – and he tries to imagine the feeling of a hundred thousand people in the studio watching him record. Of course, Patrice Evra then snatches the mic to remind us that he loves this game, then Stormzy walks off with it because why wouldn’t he. Great stuff.

Christian Horner tries to affect calm, saying he’s pumped, the team have done a great job and Max has been “mighty” all year. They’re going to do what they always do, try and enjoy it, and they’re not giving up either championship, hoping Perez can also get involved.

“Didn’t the contest nearly go horribly wrong in the summer,” emails Andrew Benton, “when Verstappen’s wheel went over the top of Lewis’ cockpit, his life being saved by the new protrusion thingy? We should be grateful that the two of them are still here for this final bout of the series!”

Yes, that did happen, and indeed it’s great that we’re all present and correct.

Usain Bolt and Chris Gayle are enjoying themselves on the grid. Bolt has Hamilton to win and is going to try and find him now to give him some wisdom – he says he’ll be looking forward to showing how he can perform, a feeling that very few people in the world can comprehend.

“I have almost no interest in F1,” says Matt Dony, “but you would have to be a special kind of joyless to not be intrigued by this race. I can’t wait to see what happens and how it happens, and I don’t even know why. I will admit, though, that back in the day when he was a young upstart, I often wrote Hamilton off as an arrogant muppet. I regret that, now. He has proven himself a Good Egg, and I respect him enormously. I enjoy Verstappen’s pantomime villain energy, but I do hope Lewis pulls something special out of the bag.”

Yup, I feel you. I’m not going to lie, I was diverted by Hamilton’s tax situation, but he’s shown himself to be an absolute hero who both defines his sport and transcends it.

“Here we are then,” tweets Guy Hornsby, “finally a season for the ages after so many dominant Merc years. I love Lewis, but even he’d have wanted more of a challenge. I really hope we don’t get a clip, puncture, limp to the pits and all over. Head says Max, heart says Lewis. Yikes.”

It’s a funny thing about sport that some of the best ever are best remembered for the ones they lost – Muhammad Ali 1971, Australia 2005, Roger Federer 2008. But otherwise, it’s tricky – you’d probably prefer to be Verstappen, given he’s in pole, but Hamilton’s car is quicker. And, of course, the big unknown is whether the changes to the circuit will make overtaking easier.

Those of us old enough will be remembering the 1986 Australian Grand Prix, when Nigel Mansell began the final race as favourite to take the title. It didn’t quite work out that way.

Nico Rosberg reckons Hamilton will be listening to Tupac, and both men will be trying to be fully present in the moment. And thinking about it, the ability to do that is an underrated aspect of elite-level sport: how do you clear your mind of everything but the task at hand, to perform to your maximum?

On that point, Verstappen’s confrontational style of racing has forced Hamilton to adapt his own. It’s not enough to be fastest now – and worth noting that yesterday, Verstappen said if he had the Mercedes car he’d be champions already – you also have to be *bravest/most reckless/most desperate/most enterprising.

*delete according to bent.

Sky show us VT of our protagonists giving interviews, the difference between them Verstappen’s naked aggression. He tells the people of the Netherlands to get the telly on because he’s going to win, while Hamilton cedes that the two aren’t mates but surmises that his rival “seems like a nice chap”. I wonder if he rehearsed that.

In such circumstance, it feels almost trite to tell you where we’re at but let’s do it: Max Verstappen, bidding to become the Netherlands’ first champion, leads the driver standings because he’s won more races than Lewis Hamilton, bidding to go in front opf Michael Schumacher as the, er, most-winningest champion of all-time. Which is to say both have 369.5 points but Verstappen has nine victories to Hamilton’s eight, meaning if neither finish, Verstappen takes the title. Otherwise, it’s a straight race between the two, and whoever wins wins.

OH MY DAYS! AAARGGHGHLNKLLKNOINOINS! I know it’s my job to come up with something better than that so I’m going to try in a sec, but really, we watch sport party for those moments that defeat language; that defeat not only language, but the involuntary outbursts of indecipherable shock and glee that make sport sport.

Except those involuntary outbursts seem to have lasted nine months, throughout what is probably the most thrilling, compelling F1 season of all-time. Charles Dickens filed his novels on a weekly basis for publishing in a literary magazine, somehow managing to sustain action, intrigue, drama and suspense for the duration; I say somehow, because that he pulled it off is astonishing, not because we don’t know what made it work: a cast of uniquely fascinating yet believable characters, whose chemistry defies science – and art – and of whom we still cannot get enough.

Decades from now, we’ll still be marvelling at the brio of Max Verstappen, the aggression of Christian Horner, the poise of Toto Wolff and the everything of Lewis Hamilton. Without them, and without the precise and specific way in which they agitate one another, it’s just a race. With them, it’s something a whole lot more, and however this shakes out, just like David Copperfield, Bill Sykes, Esther Summerson and Philip Pirrip, the four of them are enshrined in the annals of humanity for the rest of time.

Lights out: 5pm local, 1pm GMT