Why the necessary axing of an F1 icon is painful nevertheless

Motorsport is a contest where the main exertions go largely unseen. Whether it's the long hours designing and building the cars away from the track, or a driver's true effort at the wheel, understandably concealed by protective kit and safety structures. In many forms of racing there is a roof and windscreen to consider, in single-seaters there is now the halo.

Perhaps the pitstops are the closest outsiders get to seeing absolute effort - unencumbered by obstructions. In modern Formula 1, a sub-two-second pitstop is, frankly, art.

Team radio broadcasts of the modern era go some way to revealing the effort of the exertion, as well as the emotion of the moment - necessarily concealed by crash helmets - that adds a wonderful dynamic to other sporting contests.

So, while it is the cars racing that serves as the sport in motorsport, it's outside the action where we get to see just what it takes to succeed. And in F1 in 2020 that is going to look suddenly very different.

This week, F1 sporting boss Ross Brawn revealed that the pre- and post-race procedures will be significantly altered when the season finally gets underway in Austria next month. As with the rest of society, F1 is having to adapt to a physically-distanced way of life - and we have now seen some glimpses of how that will work as the teams gear up for the first race at the Red Bull Ring.

Images from Mercedes' shakedown at Silverstone showed the team's mechanics preparing a 2018 car with great consideration of the two-metre distance requirement in the UK (this is reportedly under government review and in Austria it is one metre) while wearing personal protective equipment. All teams will take significantly fewer staff and contact between people will be rigidly controlled at the upcoming European races.

In terms of the show, viewers will see a very different product, with Brawn explaining that "the practices we have had in the past just can't be done".

"The very packed grid that was a feature of F1 racing just can't happen," he added. "So every aspect from the time teams arrive to the time they leave has been thought through, and it's not completely finalised, but we're working with the FIA to polish it.

"The podium procedure can't happen, but we're looking at doing something on the grid after the race. One option would be to line the cars up on the track and the drivers will stand in front of cars.

"We can't present the trophies, as you can't have someone in close proximity presenting a trophy, but we have worked it out, we have plans and procedures, we're looking at how we can present it on TV."

All of F1's measures to attempt restarting are utterly understandable. But we can still lament the temporary loss of one of the best things about motorsport - the post-race moments where we see what these heroes are made of - and in doing so look forward to their return.

The F1 podium ceremony reeks, wonderfully, of tradition. There's the champagne reward that dates back to the French grand prix races of the 1950s (although its generally accepted that the act of spraying it in celebration started at Le Mans in 1967, with Ford's Dan Gurney - possibly recreating Jo Siffert accidentally popping a cork on the podium after his class triumph with Porsche the year before), the Georges Bizet's Carmen opera prelude now an anthem accompaniment. It's sheer spectacle.

We who love motorsport would often do well to remember what a niche - albeit a remarkable one - it is to the wider world. So, to have the act of champagne celebration in the public lexicon demonstrates its power (for this writer a personal favourite reference to the act occurs in the fifth episode of the ninth series of cult comedy series Peep Show).

The emotion and overall behaviour - good and bad - on display are usually terrific. Of course this applies to all categories of motorsport, with the Le Mans podium spectacle one of motorsport's finest, but let's look back at a few examples from F1.

When Mercedes driver Dick Seaman won the 1938 German GP, he "had little option but to follow suit" per Richard Williams' biography of the pre-war ace when it came to giving an uncomfortable Nazi salute (above).

Fast forward to the 1991 Brazilian GP and there is the iconic image of McLaren's Ayrton Senna struggling, but determined, to lift the winner's trophy in front of his home fans after cramping up with the effort to nurse his gearbox-hobbled car home.

The dynamics this celebration often throws up are fantastic - even, some would argue especially, when it comes to defeated drivers.

Nico Rosberg chucking his second place finisher's cap back at a jubilant Lewis Hamilton in the drivers' room ahead of the podium for the 2015 US GP (a modern extension of the spectacle given the access the cameras now have to what is a pretty private moment for the top three) was pure theatre.

It will be hard not to see the spectacle enjoyed for so long, but different doesn't always mean bad

At the 2016 Monaco GP, Daniel Ricciardo's thunderous face after losing the win due to Red Bull's pitstop error gave such insight into his state of mind - as did his roaring stance of triumph atop the RB14's halo as he saluted his mechanics following his victory there two years later.

As the Seaman example shows, the podium ceremony can be controversial. In the modern era, comparisons can be made with Vladimir Putin presenting trophies after the Russian GP.

While the theatre of the post-race protocols will be missed for the foreseeable future, the same can be said of the pre-race procedures. Losing the drivers' parade lap makes absolute sense given there will be no spectators present to see them this summer (and it would add needless social-distancing awkwardness for the drivers), but plans to interview the racers in front of their garages will provide additional insight during an intense period.

The protocol changes F1 is making ahead of its return are completely correct - the coronavirus pandemic has changed the world as we know it. It will be hard not to see the spectacle enjoyed for so long, but different doesn't always mean bad - often it never does. Just having motorsport-ing action back in the coming weeks will mean so much to so many.

But these times of hardship will pass. It's up to us to make the best of them and work together to return to everything we previously knew and loved - indeed the post-race champagne spraying could still work in a solo sort of way.

When that happens, celebration will be that bit sweeter.