That Sebastien Loeb’s unprecedented fifth straight World Rally Championship was buried deep beneath Lewis Hamilton’s F1 crown in Monday’s papers was a sign of two things: the magnitude and sheer drama of the Briton’s victory, and the predictability of the Frenchman’s own success.
And that is a shame. Loeb, a personable guy and a sensational driver, is a winning machine. But his career and his legacy have been blighted by one glaring flaw – timing –because his extraordinary talent has blossomed during what must go down as one of world rallying’s most ordinary periods.
Sure, Seb has taken on Tommi Makinen and Juha Kankkunen, the men whose records of four titles he has just eclipsed, but both were firmly in the twilights of their careers by the time Loeb got into his stride.
He scored several victories against Carlos Sainz and Colin McRae, modern-day greats both, but Carlos was thinking of retirement by then, and Colin was struggling to come to terms with ultra-sophisticated World Rally Cars that rewarded neatness more than balls-out commitment.