Tribes in the grandstands: what the Spa GP taught me about F1 fandom and belonging

There’s nothing quite like standing at Eau Rouge, heartbeat sync’d to the roar of engines, surrounded by a sea of color-coded allegiance. Flags flutter, chants erupt, and merch tells you exactly who everyone’s cheering for. At the Belgian Grand Prix this year, I was ready for the thrill. What I didn’t expect was how much the crowd itself would shape my experience. Not just as a fan, but as a woman navigating the colourful, chaotic, and deeply passionate world of Formula 1 fandom. Join me in a reflection of this race weekend

Arriving at Spa

Going to a Grand Prix, you know to expect seas of people, a rainbow of team caps, and the unmistakable smell of fried food in the morning air. Walking into Spa-Francorchamps and seeing the iconic Eau Rouge corner up close was surreal. Porsches were already screaming down the track for the Mobil 1 Cup qualifying session, the merch stalls were bustling with fans picking up fresh gear for the day, and at 9 a.m., the energy was already electric.

I honestly expected to feel a little out of place. But instead, I felt a surprising sense of ease. There were people from all walks of life, all ages, all kinds of fandom. In the best way, I felt invisible. Not ignored, but free. Free to just be in the moment, soak up the atmosphere, and enjoy the buzz of race day without needing to explain myself.

The language of color: how merch builds connection

F1 merch is more than just something to wear, it’s a statement. At Spa, it felt like everyone had picked their side: seas of orange for Verstappen, waves of Ferrari red, islands of papaya, flashes of pink, and the occasional bold teal or green. It was a moving mosaic of loyalty.

But what surprised me most wasn’t how divided the stands were. It was how connected people felt within those colors. Strangers high-fived over matching hats.

People offered snacks, shared binoculars, and chatted about strategy because they recognized a familiar logo. That sense of belonging is powerful. Especially in a sport that spans continents and cultures.

Still, it made me think: what happens when you’re not wearing a side? Or when your fandom doesn’t fit the assumptions that come with your outfit? The visual language of merch can be welcoming, but it can also unintentionally gatekeep. And that’s where things get interesting.

From banter to bonding: navigating fan rivalries

Let’s be honest, rivalry is part of the fun. The playful chants, the teasing signs, the dramatic reactions when “your” driver overtakes: it’s all part of the theatre. But at times, it can tip into something a little more intense.

I saw moments where fans got caught up in the heat of the moment, where a cheer turned into a jeer. But more often than not, what stood out was how quickly people de-escalated when someone reminded them we were all here for the same reason: the love of the sport.

Yes, there are passionate disagreements. Yes, some fanbases clash more than others. But there were also beautiful moments of mutual respect; like a McLaren fan and a Ferrari fan swapping predictions, or a group of Verstappen supporters cheering for a great overtake, no matter who made it. There were a lot of fans wearing merch from multiple teams, showcasing their general love for the sport. This further opened the door to bonding conversation as to where they got their cap or who they’d rather see win that day (or where to get the best snacks).

F1 fans care deeply. That’s a strength. And when that passion is channeled with curiosity and care, it creates room for everyone, whether you're a diehard, a new fan, or somewhere in between.

Being a woman in the grandstands: a layered experience

As a woman, being at a Grand Prix comes with its own nuances. There’s the occasional assumption that you’re tagging along, or that you support a driver “for his looks.”

There’s the awkward quiz-style conversations meant to “test” your knowledge. And sometimes, there’s that split-second decision to speak up or stay quiet, depending on the vibe. Those “testing” conversations are not exclusive to the track though and to be honest, they happen off-track more often than in the grandstands from my experience.

But there’s also the joy of spotting other women, of exchanging knowing smiles, of cheering together and holding space in a crowd that’s slowly, but surely, becoming more diverse.

Wearing merch as a woman is a balancing act. It can be a joyful expression, a way to find your people, or a quiet signal to others that you’re part of this too. And when that recognition lands, it’s electric. There’s nothing like being seen and celebrated for your passion, not just your presence.

The D&I perspective: fandom as a force for good

Sport has always been a reflection of society, but it can also be a catalyst for change.

What I saw at Spa reminded me that fandom isn’t just about who wins or loses. It’s about who feels welcome. Who feels seen. Who feels like they belong in the story.

And that’s where the real opportunity lies.

Teams can help, of course; by featuring more diverse fans in their media, by offering inclusive merch options, by making fan zones feel safe and open to all. But so much of the magic happens in the crowd itself. When we look out for each other. When we make space. When we choose to celebrate passion over prejudice.

Because honestly you don’t need to know every stat, wear the perfect cap, or cheer for the “right” driver to be a real fan. If you love this sport, its speed, its strategy, its storytelling; there’s room for you. There should always be room for you.

Finding joy in the crowd

In the end, what I’ll remember most about Spa isn’t just the roar of the engines or the thrill of the track, it’s the people. The unexpected conversations. The moments of generosity. The laughter, the debates, the shared awe.

Seeing (other) dads take their daughter to share the experience, couples in rivaling merch cheering together, all the grandstands applauding the lone driver at the back making their way around or the casual conversation discussing team strategy; the energy was warm (as well as the beaming sun on Saturday)

Those are the real highlights. The moments that remind you this sport is about more than points and podiums. It’s about connection. And when we choose inclusion over division, openness over assumption, we all win.