The 2016 Brazilian Grand Prix was run in the kind of wet conditions that sorts drivers into those who can cope and those who cannot. The Interlagos circuit, always fast and demanding, becomes something else entirely in rain: the long main straight aquaplanes, the slow corners offer no drainage, and the gaps between what is possible and what is catastrophic compress sharply. In those conditions, on the afternoon of November 13, 2016, Max Verstappen gave notice of what the sport was about to experience for the next decade.
Verstappen, 19 years old and in his first season with Red Bull after an extraordinary debut year with Toro Rosso, was not fighting for the championship. He was in the midfield, working his way through the race with the patient aggression that had already distinguished his approach from that of his contemporaries. But in the wet, he was something different entirely. Where others braked early, he braked late. Where others took cautious lines around rivers of standing water, he found traction that apparently wasn't there. The gap in car control between him and the drivers around him was visible and embarrassing for those on the receiving end.
His overtakes — multiple passes in the rain, on the outside, at corners where the inside line was faster and safer — were discussed for weeks afterwards. The commentators ran out of superlatives. Former drivers spoke of seeing something that reminded them of Senna in the wet. The comparisons were earned.
At the front, Lewis Hamilton drove to victory, reducing Nico Rosberg's championship lead ahead of the Abu Dhabi finale. Rosberg finished second, consolidating his position. The mathematics of the title were unchanged. But the conversation in the paddock and among fans was not about Hamilton and Rosberg — it was about a teenager from the Netherlands who had just demonstrated, beyond any reasonable doubt, that he was going to be one of the fastest drivers Formula 1 had ever seen.