Sport polarises. It thrives on its villains as much as its heroes. Perhaps more so, as it needs its villains to define that heroism. Often the line dividing the two is paper-thin.
Nowhere is that dichotomy more starkly realised than in the Red Bull garage. In the wake of riding roughshod over team orders to steal Malaysian Grand Prix victory from Mark Webber, Vettel is seen by many as a cold, ruthless antagonist. He is the evil figure looming in the shadows in a melodrama, shrouded in a cape, after tying the heroine to a railway line.
Webber, by contrast, is the hard-working, subjugated hero. He is the little guy who is never given a chance by the sinister Austro-Milton Keynesian empire. A luckless serf who is shoved back in his box every time he is about to upset the established order to the point where some, idiotically, suggest that his car's out-of-fuel and wheel-shedding moments were some kind of anti-Webber conspiracy.