F1 Grand Prix: Engine of Unstoppable Passion, Love, and Joy

Personal story: it all started from afar…

Schumacher at the wheel of the Ferrari F2002 during the 2003 Brazilian Grand Prix

Image credit: Formula 1

The first time I watched the F1 Grand Prix was in the 1990s, when I was still at school, supposedly studying English. While my classmates were busy memorizing vocabulary from mandatory textbooks to prepare for exams, I was glued to the screen of Star TV’s sports channel for hours. It was like a kaleidoscope, where I cultivated a particular fascination with global professional sports.

Among all the sports I had never heard of before, tennis and F1 quickly became my favorites. More than anything, they took me traveling around the world. The F1 Grand Prix was always held in glamorous cities, Monte Carlo, São Paulo, Silverstone, places I had never even heard of, yet they felt exotic, evocative, and endlessly intriguing. Each circuit presented almost insurmountable challenges, even for the most experienced, ambitious, and daring drivers like Michael Schumacher, all competing for a place on the podium, spraying champagne to roaring crowds, and somehow, inviting me, sitting in front of the screen, to join them.

Yet back then, in Chongqing, nobody cared about tennis or F1. No one cheered with me. I was on a lonely planet. Even when I tried sharing this passion with the girls in my dorm late at night, there was no echo but my own voice. I never understood their indifference to something so fascinating. To them, I must have seemed like a complete weirdo or perhaps someone from another planet.

More than that, I faced strong resistance from my father. One day, I was glued to the screen, my heart in my throat, trying to guess who would take pole position and lead Sunday’s race. He stormed into my room and shouted, “I don’t understand why you are so obsessed with this annoying noise made by those dangerous cars. If you like it so much, go out to the street and listen!”

I never explained. Over time, I got used to it, because I knew I was the alien in their eyes, quietly waiting for a pilot to take me to where I truly belonged.

After graduation, I rushed to Shanghai, drawn by a bigger world and hoping to find people like me.

In 2004, when Shanghai hosted its first F1 Grand Prix, my team leader at a research firm under WPP mentioned he had received a few tickets and asked if anyone was interested. I almost jumped up, “me, me, me!” but I stayed still. As an entry-level executive, I didn’t think I was entitled to such a privilege.

But I did make my debut in 2006, this time with my sister. I bought two general admission tickets myself, about RMB 200–300 per ticket (roughly USD 25–40 at the time) at the time, and invited her to join me. She was thrilled. (Finally, someone in the family followed my passion.) She supported McLaren and Mika Häkkinen, the blue team. I was always loyal to Ferrari, the red team, and to Michael Schumacher.

Back then, to promote the event, free shuttle buses to Jiading were included with the tickets. Of course, I had no idea that the Shanghai government was losing money on F1 at the time, offering incentives to cultivate a fan base.

We had an incredible day. In the drizzle, my sister excitedly explored the vast Shanghai International Circuit. We bought symbolic souvenirs; I chose a bright red Ferrari T-shirt (made in Yiwu, at a very reasonable price) and put a Ferrari sticker on my cheek, waiting for Schumacher’s victory moment. My sister picked a McLaren blue scarf.

For the whole time, we sat among a large crowd of international spectators on the lawn, in the rain, watching the race unfold on giant screens. The air was filled with the notorious roar of engines as dozens of cars flashed across the track at lightning speed, even though we could barely see them ourselves. That was the magical moment, the feeling of finally landing on a planet inhabited by people like me.

It was drizzling, but no one seemed to care. We sat in the rain, cheering every small win by our favorite team and driver, as if it were a sunny day, sharing drinks, snacks, and lunches, like a simple, casual family picnic in the sun.

This memory left a vivid and lasting mark on me. Years later, I still return to those moments on the lawn in Jiading. It gave us something to linger on and laugh about, like how my cheap, made-in-Yiwu red Ferrari T-shirt bled in the rain and turned my authentic Ralph Lauren white T-shirt pink, a story my sister still teases me about.

Later, my love for Ferrari reached a peak when I had the chance to work on a small but prestigious project with the TNS auto team in 2007. I traveled across the country,

interviewing more than 20 high-net-worth Ferrari owners, listening to their stories and their passion. I was more than thrilled to discover that I wasn’t alone. For many of us, the roar of a powerful engine is not noise, but music, something like Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9, a deep yearning for passion, love, and joy. And perhaps that’s why red feels like the only color that can embody it all, the rush of blood, the beating of the heart, the proof that we are alive.

In the years that followed, life shifted toward something more urgent, like survival. The love from my youth faded quietly, almost without me noticing. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Schumacher, my hero, fell into a long coma, just like my own dormant love for F1.

More Than a Race: The City in Motion

Shanghai Formula 1 Chinese Grand Prix

Image credit: McLaren

In the blink of an eye, it is 2026. F1 is back on my radar.

Reading the news of Shanghai’s Grand Prix success, it is clear that the race has injected a strong jolt into a sluggish economy and, more importantly, reignited a collective hunger for celebration, something only a super IP like F1 can deliver.

According to Juss Sports (under Shanghai Jiushi Group, the local promoter), the 2026 Shanghai Grand Prix attracted over 230,000 spectators, with ticket revenue rising by more than 30% year-on-year. This chain of data sends a strong signal that, after 18 years of bold gambling by the Shanghai government, this “visibility project” is finally reaching a turning point toward profitability.

More importantly, many overseas spectators are affluent consumers with deep pockets, eager to spend on this mega motorsport spectacle.

According to the 2025 Shanghai Sports Events Impact Report, the race generated RMB 2.47 billion (USD 340 million) in direct economic impact and RMB 6.91 billion (USD 950 million) in indirect impact, both growing by over 75% year-on-year.

What does this mean for industries?

For hospitality:

Hotel bookings within a 10–15 km radius surged tenfold. Prices rose 2–3 times, and average spending per booking jumped 216%.

For air travel:

Flight bookings to Shanghai recorded double-digit growth.

And this does not yet include spending on dining, shopping, and entertainment.

And this does not yet include spending on dining, shopping, and entertainment. In short, this was more than a race, but a city-wide consumption surge, a windfall that almost feels heaven-sent “泼天的富贵,” quoted by Chinese netizens.

 The Economy of Emotion, The Power of Fandom

F1 fans at the Shanghai International Circuit, Chinese Grand Prix

Image credit: China Daily HK

From a macro perspective, this aligns perfectly with the meteoric rise of the “emotional economy” (情绪经济). As societal attitudes evolve, consumption is shifting from purely functional needs toward emotional resonance and meaningful connection.

What is even more encouraging is how the F1 Grand Prix is rejuvenating itself, drawing in a new generation of younger audiences and turning them into a powerful fandom that will shape future spending behavior. According to Nielsen Sports, F1’s global fan base has reached around 827 million, with strong year-on-year growth driven in part by markets like China. The audience is also becoming younger and more diverse, with rising female participation and increasing engagement among younger generations. Beyond that, F1 has become one of the fastest-growing sports properties in terms of social media following worldwide.

To conclude, speaking as someone who has been through it, the love we cultivate in our green years tends to stay with us for a lifetime. Perhaps it’s time to awaken my dormant passion, to plan my next F1 Grand Prix, and to stand once again among new faces and the younger versions of myself I once was.