What has become of the Nürburgring myth? The 2025 Nürburgring 24 Hours showcased one thing above all: chaos, injustice, and a lost sense of fascination. A commentary on fading passion and sporting disappointment.
I love the Nordschleife. No stretch of tarmac is more fascinating, more demanding, or more dangerous. I’ve raced on it myself. And even today, every trip onto that track sends waves of joy through me. The 24-hour race on this mythical circuit used to be one of the highlights of the motorsport year. But what was once a celebration has become a farce. My love for this race cooled significantly over the weekend.
Pros and amateurs in the same race? Does that still work?
The problem isn’t the track – it’s what happens on it nowadays. The core principle, often sold as the "charm of the race," is in truth a fundamental flaw: professionals and amateurs sharing the same grid. It sounds romantic but has long since become a safety hazard. The speed differentials are grotesque, communication on track is often a gamble. Year after year, ambitious amateur drivers unintentionally turn into mobile chicanes – or are simply shoved aside by overly aggressive pros.
The result is no longer a heroic endurance battle, but predictable chaos. And 2025 marked – sadly, probably only temporarily – a new low. During practice, a DTM pro blatantly ignored several red flags at full speed – and essentially got nothing more than a scolding. The appropriate response would have been for Mirko Bortolotti to be sent home. But in today’s marketing-driven world, rules seem to be overshadowed by celebrity privileges. Other drivers were excluded from the race for lesser infractions in slow zones – at least temporarily.
Transparency? Missing. Credibility? Spent.
What really made you want to give up was what happened to the fastest car in the field: the fan-favorite Grello Porsche. A collision that ended with the other car flipping led to a 100-second penalty – understandable in itself. But because race control failed to schedule the penalty in time – even though the incident happened more than five hours before the end of the race – the actual winning car was demoted after the fact. With all due respect to sporting regulations, the result is a sporting tragedy.
Because in the end, the fastest didn’t win – the second-placed did. That leaves BMW with a victory tainted by controversy, wrapped in legal wrangling and petty finger-pointing from the losing side. This isn’t what motorsport should be: bureaucratic, bitter, grotesque. That the power also went out at the track yesterday evening, leading to a red flag and a two-hour standstill, felt almost poetic. Nothing could have symbolized this race better.
Has the concept outlived itself?
In light of what followed, one almost wished the lights had stayed off. The Green Hell? Once the heart of motorsport. Today, the 24-hour race feels like a hollow copy of its former self. Overcomplicated regulations, questionable decisions, and a sporting standard that crumbles under its own legend. Maybe the race doesn’t need more spectators – it needs a complete overhaul. Otherwise, all that remains of the love for the Nordschleife is wistful nostalgia.