Yuki Tsunoda.
Yuki Tsunoda is the person who made me fall in love with this sport. He’s one of those drivers who reminds us that the loudest part of racing isn’t the exhausts it’s ambition, resilience, and passion. Yuki exists in Formula 1 not just through his height, his age, or his dramatic rise, but through his character, his fighting spirit, and his ability to stay standing no matter what. And to me, he’s one of the most special, most genuine, and pure-hearted drivers on the grid.
Yuki’s story isn’t a miracle; it’s a story of devotion. A journey that began in his father’s garage when he was still a tiny child eventually grew into a stage watched by millions around the world. But in my opinion, Yuki’s biggest achievement isn’t finding a seat in Formula 1 it’s fighting hard enough to deserve to stay there. And you have to accept this: if he’s in that seat today, it’s because he earned it.
He was a kid in Japan, in his father’s small garage where the smell of burnt rubber, the sound of metal, and the scent of fuel mixed together loving racing before he could even reach the steering wheel.
When people first saw him, everyone thought the same thing: “a small, fun, energetic rookie.” But Tsunoda offered something on track that no one else did: authenticity. And being authentic is the hardest achievement in this sport I’ve said this before. Formula 1 often praises perfection, calmness, being mistake-free. Yuki is the complete opposite. He’s someone who doesn’t hide his emotions. His anger, his joy, his stress, his happiness. Both on track and on the radio. Very openly, too.
And that’s exactly why Yuki brings humanity into this sport. This is what I love most about him he doesn’t hide his feelings. Some people criticize this, but to me, it’s what makes him the most human. In every braking point, in every radio message, in every overtaking attempt, you can feel Yuki’s heart and his screams. He may be short, but he has a big heart and an even bigger character.
Whenever he’s upset, he shows it. When he makes a mistake, he doesn’t hide it. Whenever he fights, he does it with all the strength of his heart. That’s something we rarely see in Formula 1.
Yuki’s story is actually a simple one. He was just a little kid when his speed on the karting tracks was first noticed. His father, a former racer himself, was the first person to recognize his talent. He described Yuki as “a little kid who wasn’t just fast, but also raced with his mind.” That child who grew up under his father’s hands in that garage didn’t know he would one day become one of the most promising talents Honda ever invested in but deep down, he always felt it. Being supported by Honda made his path even clearer. He won the Formula 4 championship and proved himself in F2. That became one of the biggest turning points of his life. After that moment, everything sped up:
•He first shined in Japanese F4,
•When he came to Europe, everyone said he was too small, too weak – but he never cared,
• F3 was a tough adaptation, but he never stopped.
Get jenny’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
And then came the 2020 F2 season… That was when we all realized Yuki Tsunoda was truly a “road warrior.” His mastery of late braking was so incredible that the perfect nickname emerged for him: “The Late Braking Master.”
When Yuki took the AlphaTauri seat in 2021, everyone was curious: Could this kid handle the speed, pressure, and weight of F1? The answer was yes. But it wasn’t easy.
A new country, a new sporting culture, unbelievable stress… Yuki’s anger outbursts emerged right there. The team radio moments, the breakdowns they were all very real for him. Tsunoda’s biggest development during the AlphaTauri and then RB era wasn’t emotional, it was mental. His race vision expanded, he began thinking strategically, and his tire management became unbelievably good. Each season, he became more mature, yet never lost his personality. And as I said before, that’s extremely difficult. The sport wants to change you, PR wants to shape you, media wants to soften you… but Yuki always stayed the same and never held back what he wanted to say.
We also shouldn’t skip his physical development. Ever since joining the RBR program, his body has completely transformed; he got stronger, his endurance increased. The kid who was mocked for being “short” became a real athlete. Every muscle update, every weight change, every training session they were all for a single goal: “To be faster.” And he achieved that.
The people who contributed most to Yuki’s rise were Pierre Gasly and Daniel Ricciardo. Gasly taught Yuki to control his anger, and Yuki reminded Gasly of the beauty of staying spontaneous and having fun alongside all the seriousness of life. Next to a huge personality like Daniel Ricciardo, he matured, competed, laughed, and most importantly found himself. He has a very different character; he’s extremely natural for such a corporate sport. When you watch him, you feel close to him. Because he doesn’t act like a popstar, he doesn’t pretend, he doesn’t try to be cool. And about the culture he carries. He is the modern representative of Japanese culture in Formula 1. Not just Japan’s, but one of Asia’s most influential sporting figures right now. He is one of the sweetest and strongest bridges of F1’s globalizing spirit.
If we look at Yuki’s fashion aesthetic, it’s simple but incredibly effective. He’s considered one of the best-dressed drivers on the grid. He’s not someone who “tries hard for fashion,” which makes him one of those rare people who look good effortlessly. Simple sweatshirts, clean lines, natural colors. His style is like him: sincere and effortlessly cool. But he knows exactly how to use details, color harmony, and what suits him best. The fashion world has already started noticing this natural aura. Especially during the RB era, brands showcased him more and more.
And why is Yuki so important to me? I might have explained this enough, but I want to go a little deeper. I think many people misunderstand him. His performance in RB right now is questioned, and the reason is the lack of value the team gives him. Since the beginning of the season, he has complained multiple times about the car he even said, “I’m not using the same setup as Verstappen. They didn’t give it to me.” And when he asked, “Why can I only give 40% throttle?” the team simply responded, “Get used to it.” ??? And yes, I strongly believe in RB’s second driver curse. He tried countless times, did everything he could to prove himself, but unfortunately, he didn’t get the respect he deserved.
People keep asking me why I support him, saying things like, “How can someone’s favorite driver be Tsunoda?” Because all they see is a car going around the track. But in his story, I see much more than a driver: struggle, maturation, accepting his flaws, holding himself together under pressure, a huge heart inside a tiny body, staying honest with curses, emotions, and rawness even in a sport that tries to change you. Yuki screams, but his power doesn’t. He’s quiet but impactful. Watching him makes you think, “This kid deserves this.” He deserves success, love, and a team and seat that will give him the value he deserves. Because we shouldn’t deny this: if he’s in that seat today, he has far more potential than what we see. He’s the driver whose journey I enjoy watching the most, the one who makes me laugh the most, and the one I connect with the most. When I first started watching the sport, I couldn’t take my eyes off him for even a second. Even when he was P17 or lower, I never stopped supporting him. To me, Yuki is one of the most undervalued drivers in the sport. But his potential? Much bigger. The right car + the right environment = one day, a win.
And I can’t wait to see that day.
💌; Thank you for your attention,
by jenny
