The “Best of the Rest”: Analyzing The Midfield Battle of 2025

The Constructor’s Championship was decided in October, and frankly, it was a non-event. The real violence happened between P5 and P9, where egos were bruised, reputations were shredded, and Williams finally remembered they used to be a serious racing team.

Let’s get the flowers out of the way first. James Vowles promised us a “long-term vision” for three years, and we all rolled our eyes. We were wrong. The FW47 was not a rocket ship, but it was a consistent, reliable tractor that refused to break.

The Williams Renaissance (Actually This Time)

Pairing Carlos Sainz with Alex Albon was the smartest piece of business done in this decade. While other teams were busy managing driver feuds or babysitting rookies, Williams had two adults in the room. They didn’t crash. They didn’t scream at their engineers (much). They just extracted every single point available.

Sainz, in particular, drove with the chip on his shoulder visible from space. Being dumped by Ferrari clearly lit a fire. His P5 finish in Singapore wasn’t just luck; it was a masterclass in tire whispering that humiliated the “faster” Aston Martins behind him. Williams secured fifth in the Constructors’ not because they had the biggest budget, but because they stopped tripping over their own shoelaces. It’s amazing what happens when you have a car that fits into the weight limit on day one.

The Aston Martin “Waiting Room”

If Williams was the hero of 2025, Aston Martin was the punchline. The hype machine was out of control in March. The data aggregators and platforms like BestOdds had the Silverstone squad pegged as the dark horse to challenge Mercedes. The logic seemed sound: unlimited money plus Fernando Alonso equals trophies.

Instead, we got a team paralyzed by its own future. The arrival of Adrian Newey in March 2025 was supposed to be the catalyst. In reality, it was a distraction. The entire organization seemed to check out, treating the AMR25 as an annoying homework assignment they had to finish before the real work for 2026 could begin. If you’re interested in reading more about F1 tech coming in 2026, read our article here.

The car was a diva. It had a narrower operating window than a submarine hatch. One weekend Alonso was qualifying on the second row; the next, he was fighting Saubers for P14. You could practically hear Alonso aging over the team radio. They spent hundreds of millions to build a “super team,” and all they got was a very expensive queue for the 2026 regulations.

Haas: The Ragtag Circus That Worked

Hand up if you thought an Esteban Ocon and Oliver Bearman lineup would implode by race four. I did. We all did. But Ayao Komatsu is apparently a wizard.

Haas in 2025 was the definition of “punching up.” They didn’t have the upgrades. They didn’t have the hospitality units. But they had a car that finally *finally* didn’t eat its tires like a starving hyena. The VF-25 could actually do a 20-lap stint without falling off a cliff.

Bearman was the surprise package. We expected rookie mistakes. We got a kid who elbowed his way past veteran drivers without flinching. His drive in Baku was the moment the paddock realized he wasn’t just a Ferrari nepo-baby; he was the real deal. Haas finished P6, beating Alpine. Let that sink in. A team that buys its suspension off the shelf beat a manufacturer works team.

The French Tragedy

Speaking of Alpine… yikes. The “Enstone catastrophe” needs its own documentary. They started the year with a slow car, and they ended the year with a slightly less slow car and zero morale.

Losing Ocon to Haas was bad. Replacing him with Jack Doohan was a gamble that didn’t pay out. The A525 was overweight and underpowered, a perfect tribute to the Renault engine program’s final sputtering breath. Watching Pierre Gasly try to drag that brick into Q3 every Saturday was arguably the most tragic recurring segment of the season.

The team has been in a “rebuilding phase” since 2016. At some point, you aren’t rebuilding; you’re just squatting in a factory. They finished P8, a humiliation for a brand that sells sports cars.

Bring on the Chaos

The 2025 midfield battle proved one thing: efficiency beats cash. Williams and Haas didn’t outspend their rivals; they outworked them. They accepted their limitations and built cars that could score points on bad days.

As we stare down the barrel of the 2026 regulations, the deck is about to be reshuffled. Audi is coming. Honda is moving. Newey is drawing. But for one glorious season, the little guys punched back. If you weren’t watching the battle for P7, you missed the best racing on the planet.

So, are you dreading the 2026 reset or praying for it? If 2025 taught us anything, it’s that a clean slate usually means total chaos. Tell us: is the future bright, or are we just swapping one dominance for another?