Hamilton haters should let him live his legacy

Greatness divides opinion, then judgement softens in time and the darker sides of the greats fade. That process is accelerated by a tragic conclusion - in motorsport, such examples include the late James Hunt, Gilles Villeneuve and Ayrton Senna, and the seriously injured Michael Schumacher.

Perceptions change in such circumstances. The old saying 'you don't know what you have until it's gone' springs to mind, a phenomenon modern Formula 1 is currently experiencing with Lewis Hamilton. But a driver should not have to die to be fully appreciated.

Like all F1 legends who had their detractors, Hamilton's legacy may eventually outstrip his flaws. And while that is hopefully achieved through retirement, rather than anything severe, why is true appreciation in his time so difficult to achieve?

Take last year's Abu Dhabi season finale and the fallout of Hamilton backing up team-mate Nico Rosberg in pursuit of a fourth title. It was vintage Hamilton: imperious in practice, untouchable in qualifying, completely in control in the race.

Rosberg still won the title, Hamilton still won the race, Mercedes still got its one-two, and F1 got the tense finale it was craving. Yet even with so, Hamilton came in for criticism.

The bafflement quickly transitions to sad resignation, though. This is Hamilton. It doesn't matter how good he is, or what good he does, he will always be something of an anti-hero.

This is pertinent heading into the 2017 season because Hamilton has yet another shot at rewriting history. As outlined here by Autosport's Ben Anderson, Mercedes still leading the field is a very realistic prospect, despite the regulation changes. That means a fourth world title will be in Hamilton's sight. If he achieves that, he will become the first British driver to do so and will eclipse his hero Senna in the overall statistics in the process - not to mention potentially breaking some other F1 records along the way.

Stats can't buy love, though. And pondering Hamilton's divisive character is an exhausting exercise.

There is a lot of talk of Max Verstappen being the coming man and the future of F1, but also something of a reluctance to appreciate Hamilton for what he has been for some time now - the poster boy modern F1 sorely needs.

Motorsport is mundanely corporate a lot of the time. Hamilton, as Hunt, Villeneuve and Senna did decades ago, stands out from that. He lives a star-studded lifestyle, very much the opposite of the likes of Sebastian Vettel or Kimi Raikkonen. He's generating a devoted following through his social media activity and mingles with the great and good of celebrity culture. His involvement with multiple charities also suggests a genuine desire to use his profile to give back.

Still, there remains a feeling of resentment. He's different, but with him it's a bad thing. Hamilton's musical tastes, his interest in fashion and his glamorous lifestyle supposedly make him an easy off-track target.

At best, it's jealousy, at worst it's something more sinister. Hamilton once joked, referencing Ali G in poor taste, that maybe he was being singled out by stewards because he's black. That was wrong in that scenario, but in a wider sense I'm not convinced his ethnicity is not part of it - mainly because, apart from envy, it's difficult to find a rational explanation for the ease and regularity with which Hamilton rubs people up the wrong way.

On track or off it, Hamilton jars in ways that are far from new - it's just with those from the past, the grievances are conveniently ignored.

Hunt punched a marshal, for example. Villeneuve was capable of driving extremely irresponsibly - look how he's celebrated by some for the footage of him driving in the 1979 Dutch Grand Prix with a blown left rear tyre (which later leads too a flailing wheel rim).

Those actions discarded a chunk of tyre on the racing line, and he continued back to the pits with the car twitching, front wheel aloft. What if Pastor Maldonado had done something so irresponsible? Or if Maldonado had been involved in a battle like Villeneuve's at Dijon with Rene Arnoux - lighting up tyres with last-minute lunges, wheel-banging and flouting of the track limits? Ah, but Gilles was a legend!

And Raikkonen, a driver revered for being 'aloof', is often deliberately disengaged with fans and downright rude and difficult at times. There are other examples, too.

Some people are just popular. Some people just aren't. As the disinterest in the phenomenal achievements of Red Bull and Vettel proved, it's not just Hamilton who has suffered in recent times. And it happens in other sports too - witness the constant derision of England and Manchester United's record-breaking footballer Wayne Rooney. A statistical marvel does not always translate into a popular figure.

The difference between Hamilton and a Rooney type is there has been no decline, no debate to be had over whether he is proving his worth. The present Hamilton is still at the very top of his game.

He's racked up the third-largest number of starts of any Brit, behind Jenson Button and David Coulthard, and won comfortably more races than the two ahead of him in that list. Hamilton has more wins, more poles, more podiums and more fastest laps than any other British F1 driver. By the end of 2017, he might even have more than the next two drivers combined in some of those categories.

Schumacher's jaw-dropping return of 91 wins, and even his 77-strong fastest lap return, might end up being out of reach. If so, it doesn't matter. Hamilton doesn't need to go down as the very best; he's already guaranteed himself a place among the most illustrious company.

Still, it's not enough. Hamilton has devoted fans, of course - most drivers do. And he splits opinion in the same vein as Senna or Schumacher. But he will never be loved. Not like those he stands alongside in the pantheon of greats.

Perhaps the problem also lies in how he has achieved his success. While Schumacher had already won two titles by the time he joined Ferrari, 72 of his 91 wins came in red. For a decade, he carved F1 in his own image.

The same goes for Senna (who won 35 times with McLaren), Nigel Mansell (28 wins with Williams) and Jim Clark (25 with Lotus). Put on your rose-coloured glasses and you'll immediately associate one of those drivers with the team they won the most with.

Will the same go for Hamilton? That he has won two titles and 32 grands prix with Mercedes compared to one title and 21 races with McLaren should, in theory, leave a legacy bathed in a hue of silver. But, barring his initial exploits in karting, his formative years and his explosive entrance to F1 came with McLaren. That connection carries more emotional weight.

It could just be a modern thing. Hamilton's problem applies to Vettel - record after record shattered, and all people could do was find things to complain about. He's a spoiled brat, he's boring, he's got an annoying single-finger salute when he wins.

Pretty much all of Vettel's success has come with one team. He won 39 times in Red Bull colours (2008 Italian Grand Prix victory with Toro Rosso included), but that partnership didn't exactly pull at the heartstrings of F1 fans.

It's hard to see Vettel and the RB9 remembered with same romantic notion of Senna and an MP4/4, despite the obvious similarities - both were marriages of an exciting sponsor, design excellence and prodigious driving talent. And even less successful partnerships invoke a stronger sensory response - like Ronnie Peterson in a Lotus (a nine-win partnership), or Nelson Piquet in a Brabham (16 victories).

One-team drivers have always been rare, though. It's the mark they make on their era, and what they leave behind, that matters most. And a strong case could be made for Hamilton being the most significant driver of his generation.

He is not without his flaws. There have been major on-track gaffes - beaching it in the gravel at Shanghai as a rookie in 2007, rear-ending Raikkonen in the Montreal pitlane in '08, chopping across Kamui Kobayashi at Spa in 2011 during a run of, by his standards, frustratingly below-par performances.

Off-track, he courts attention for the 'wrong' reasons. He's tweeted telemetry from a team briefing. He's sprayed champagne directly at a woman stood on the podium. There was the storm-in-a-teacup Snapchat furore last year in Japan and the subsequent walk-out of a press conference in response to negative coverage of his actions. He poses for pictures with his private jet and is obsessed with his bulldogs Roscoe and Coco.

Spot the trend - big or small, talking about Hamilton is a regular thing. But it means he has developed into the closest thing F1 has to a genuine global megastar, not just a superb driver. Like Senna, he is one of precious few to have transcended his sport. And the similarities with the man Hamilton has always proudly drawn inspiration from continue.

Both have had moments of public unprofessionalism - for Hamilton's 'cap toss' at Rosberg, or comments in the wake of Rosberg's retirement, there's Senna's candid criticism of the returning Alain Prost in the 1992 Portuguese GP press conference.

Senna understood the value his increased profile could bring to those less fortunate. His charitable efforts remain lauded, and the foundation set up in his honour months after his death continues to work on the behalf of underprivileged children in Brazil. Hamilton's support, both formal and informal, for the likes of UNICEF, Barnardo's and other charities also suggest a desire to use his star power for good.

But the strongest connection is both share an intense love of racing. Senna's 1992 outburst against Prost, or his defiance in the face of Sir Jackie Stewart's questions in the aftermath of Senna's clash with Prost in the '90 Japanese GP, was born from a fierce desire to be the best and to race purely. Hamilton's comments last year about F1's governance, outlined here by Glenn Freeman as part of a deeper consideration of Hamilton's growing maturity, came from the same hymn sheet.

Hamilton is usually the story, even to the point where the story is that he is the story. The greats are divisive and Hamilton, as he does in so many areas, ranks right up there with the best of them for that. It's the way some pick and choose the elements of his public persona to suit their argument, and use it as a stick with which to beat Hamilton, that is particularly grinding.

Hamilton's as important to his era as Senna was to his, or any of the true giants of racing have been. He 'gets it' when it comes to embracing fans, he isn't afraid to speak his mind (or make his own mistakes), and is not afraid to live the life he wants to. The shackles that seem to restrict the modern professional racing driver don't seem to apply to him.

In short, Hamilton is the driver most F1 fans say they want: a swashbuckling, he-who-dares talent behind the wheel, capable of being an outspoken, honest individual in front of the camera and a colourful character away from the track.

Yet he's an inhabitant of purgatory; recognised as a brilliant driving talent but often a poorly thought-of champion forever walking a tightrope over derision.

A small consolation is that the pointless irritations Hamilton provokes will, like they always do, eventually fade. The legacy he'll leave when that happens will be immense.

Hamilton's done more to be like Senna than he could ever have realistically hoped for, and this could be the year he surpasses him. What separates the two in the court of public opinion shouldn't be that one is still alive.