Before Greatness
The story isn't just about speed, talent or results. It's about staying true to yourself while the world begins to expect greatness.

Sometimes the most interesting stories begin long before the record books notice.
Every so often in sport, a young athlete emerges who captures the attention of those around them.
Not necessarily because of what they've already achieved.
But because of what they might become.
For me, that's Kimi Antonelli.
At just nineteen years of age, Antonelli has already achieved milestones that many Formula One drivers spend entire careers chasing. Pole positions, Grand Prix victories and records that place him among some of the sport's most remarkable young talents.
The statistics are extraordinary.
Yet statistics rarely tell the full story.

Before the victories, records and expectations, there was simply potential.
What fascinates me most about Kimi isn't what he's already accomplished. It's the sense that we're still only seeing the very beginning of the story.
I can barely remember what I was doing at nineteen years of age.
Whatever it was, I can guarantee it wasn't leading the Formula One World Championship standings, winning Grand Prix races or carrying the expectations of one of the most successful teams in motorsport history.
And perhaps that's what makes Antonelli so intriguing to watch.
Over the last two seasons I've had the opportunity to photograph Kimi both on and off the circuit, from the intensity of race weekends to the quieter moments within the paddock and pit lane, watching his transformation from highly anticipated rookie to genuine championship contender unfold in real time.
What stands out isn't just the speed.
It's the authenticity.
My first glimpse of Kimi's personality came during his very first Formula One race weekend in Melbourne in 2025.
The Wednesday before a Grand Prix is often one of the more relaxed days of the week. Drivers complete track walks, cycle laps of the circuit or simply familiarise themselves with their surroundings before the intensity of race weekend begins.
On this particular afternoon, we had positioned ourselves against the inside wall of the circuit waiting for the next driver to pass by.
In the distance, Kimi appeared on an electric scooter.
What happened next wasn't entirely expected.
As he approached, he suddenly altered course and headed directly towards us. With nowhere to move and nowhere to hide, we braced ourselves for what felt like an inevitable collision. At the very last moment he flicked the scooter away and disappeared down the circuit laughing.
Our brief moment of panic quickly turned into laughter of our own.
That was my introduction to Kimi Antonelli.
It was a small moment, but one that told me a great deal.

My introduction to Kimi Antonelli wasn't quite what I expected.
Formula One drivers operate in a world of immense scrutiny. Every comment, reaction and interaction is analysed. Many become understandably guarded as a result.
Kimi seems different.

The moments between sessions often reveal the most.

Helmet on, Game Face.
There is a relaxed confidence about him that feels genuine rather than manufactured. He appears comfortable in his own skin, balancing the ruthless determination required to compete at the highest level with an ability to enjoy the journey along the way.
That balance is surprisingly rare.
Having now observed him across multiple race weekends, I've noticed the same pattern repeatedly. Whether interacting with engineers, mechanics, media or fans, there is an openness to his personality that remains intact despite the increasing attention surrounding him.
The post-race celebrations in Japan this year provided one of the clearest examples.
After squeezing myself as close as possible to the inevitable pit lane scrum following the official Mercedes team photographs, I found myself waiting to see which direction Kimi would run once the formalities were complete.



The anticipation was palpable.
The moment the team photographer lowered the camera, Kimi exploded into motion, sprinting down pit lane almost as quickly as he drives his Mercedes.
Chaos followed.
Mechanics, engineers and team members armed with champagne launched their attack as Kimi attempted, unsuccessfully, to escape. There was laughter, shouting and complete disorder. More than anything, there was joy.

Pure, unfiltered joy.
For a brief moment, the pressure, expectations and intensity of Formula One disappeared.
Another aspect of Antonelli's journey that has been fascinating to observe is his relationship with race engineer Peter "Bono" Bonnington.

Thousands of data points. One shared objective.
Away from the cameras I've photographed countless moments where the pair appear deep in discussion, analysing data and preparing for the upcoming sessions on-track. Yet I've also witnessed the lighter moments shared between them in the garage before a session begins.
The laughs.
The jokes.
The brief moments of normality.
Then the helmet goes on.
And everything changes.
What continues to impress me most is his ability to operate at the limit.

From 16th on the grid to 4th at the flag in Melbourne, 2025. Before greatness arrives, there are moments that make people pay attention.

Operating at the limit.

Confidence comes from repetition.

His blistering pace is easy to see.
Formula One is unforgiving. Drivers spend every lap balancing performance against risk, searching for hundredths of a second while knowing that one small mistake can carry significant consequences.
Yet Antonelli appears remarkably comfortable in that environment.
The mistakes have been few. His ability to adapt to changing conditions, evolving car balance and the significant technical demands of modern Formula One is extraordinary, particularly for someone so early in their career.
This season has also introduced another compelling chapter.
His growing rivalry with teammate George Russell.

Teammates. Competitors. Queue the fireworks.
What many expected to be a period of learning and development has instead become a genuine contest. The battles between the pair have been fierce and, at times, dangerously close.
Internally, I'm sure those conversations within Mercedes are fascinating.
Externally, the team remains as composed and methodical as ever.
What ultimately draws me towards Antonelli isn't the championship standings, the victories or even the records.
It's that everything feels real.

He doesn't seem interested in becoming a carefully constructed version of himself.
He doesn't shy away from cameras.
He doesn't hide from pressure.
He doesn't appear burdened by the weight of expectation that many others would carry.
At nineteen years of age, supported by a strong family, a world-class team and a confidence that appears grounded in self-belief rather than ego, it's difficult not to feel that something significant is unfolding.

Talent may open the door, but trust, support and belief are what help someone walk through it.
Of course, Formula One has a habit of humbling even the most talented drivers.
Potential alone guarantees nothing.

Potential alone guarantees nothing.
Championships are shaped by timing, circumstance, reliability and countless variables beyond a driver's control.
There is still a long road ahead.
But standing trackside and watching Antonelli navigate the pressures of Formula One with a level of composure, speed and authenticity that belies his age, it's difficult not to feel that we are witnessing the chapter before the chapter everyone remembers.

Before greatness, there is possibility.
Whether that journey ultimately leads to multiple World Championships or simply a career remembered for flashes of brilliance remains to be seen.
What is certain is that Kimi Antonelli has already given the sport a reason to pay attention.
And sometimes, before greatness arrives, that's exactly how it begins.