It's either black or white with Lewis

What must it be like for people who don't love sport? It allows us, the followers, to live vicariously through the talents, the victories - and despair. It fires our imagination, makes us jump for joy or - as your columnist did - cry with sorrow when Lewis Hamilton's debut bid for the World Championship slid into the gravel trap at Shanghai in 2007.

At Monaco this year Hamilton caused a stir by saying that perhaps he was being called to see the stewards so frequently because of his color. What makes him special is that he's either black or white, but never gray. He's the antithesis of Nick Heidfeld - the driver now in his second decade in F1 who usually finishes, often in the points - but who you never notice. Or care about.

When Lewis is frustrated we know about it. He makes injudicious comments on live TV, he talks to rival team managers in full view of the paddock - and he's often clumsy on the track. Lewis, Lewis we mutter, shaking our heads with disappointment. Because he makes us care.