Why Hamilton's chance to eclipse Schumacher matters even if he fails

Across all of sport, the best champions lose.

Some endure defeat from the start, working constantly to improve and finally seal the deal right at the end of their careers - walking off into a golden sunset. Others win immediately, but finally lose their grip on what should be their last, greatest moment. And some find success and failure intertwined throughout their endeavours.

Sprinter Usain Bolt lost his final race. American Football player Tom Brady finally looks like he can't prevail if the odds are stacked against him. And, back in 2006, Michael Schumacher missed out on an eighth Formula 1 world title just after he'd finally announced his golden era with Ferrari would end.

But the way Schumacher handled that defeat stood out. In the Japanese Grand Prix, when an engine failure while leading forced his retirement, the images of him thanking and commiserating his mechanics were striking. Then in the season finale, when he already needed a miracle to overcome Renault's Fernando Alonso, a puncture sustained in a clash with Giancarlo Fisichella dropped him out of contention early on.

But still Schumacher roared back. As team-mate Felipe Massa stormed to an emotional home win and Alonso secured a well-deserved second world title, Schumacher showed his class, with pass after pass - with Kimi Raikkonen in particular not willing to give an inch - to recover to fourth. What an ending.

His return with Mercedes was defeat of a different kind. F1 had moved on without its statistically greatest champion. The cars were different, the tyres - especially - weren't the same. But just by coming back, even if he didn't win, Schumacher showed something about being a champion.

Success in sport should of course be respected. But constant winning does get tiresome for many.

It's not for nothing that F1's rules were regularly changed during the Ferrari/Schumacher domination at the start of the 2000s. It's the same reason why Brady's New England Patriots are portrayed as the villains of the NFL, and it's the same case with Chris Froome and Team Sky/INEOS at the Tour de France.

Glorious defeat is simply a better story that metronomic victory.

That's why it's particularly interesting to hear the boss of F1's current dominant team, Toto Wolff, say: "The days of losing or underperforming are so painful that the learning curve is enormous from these days - as long as you can make the organisation cope with failure, and understand that failure, [it's] an opportunity."

It's not inconceivable that rising stars Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc make yet more progress this year and defeat Hamilton on their own terms

It may seem obvious from the outside, almost a cliched "we grow from our mistakes", but it clearly works a treat at Mercedes, where Wolff has fostered the kind of culture that means defeat matters just as much as winning, and maybe even more so.

But defeat is not just useful for competitors, it's often where those of us on the outside learn the most about the champions we watch going to work, as well as those who are still on the journey to greatness, and those who will never get there.

Consider Lewis Hamilton heading into the 2020 F1 season. He's already won six world titles with two different teams - by basically any measure he's had a truly great career. But, right now, he stands on the precipice of claiming the greatest F1 career accolade: overhauling Schumacher's record of seven world titles.

But he might not get there.

Mercedes could discover that the 2020 season ends its time atop the pedestal as modern F1's best team. Last year, Ferrari could have made its march to another world title double so much harder. Red Bull, with Honda power, now appears to be resurgent, rather than a faded force.

As Autosport has explained, it would be naive not to acknowledge that injury, or even death, could end Hamilton's career - even if no one would ever want such a development to come to pass.

It's also not inconceivable that rising stars Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc make yet more progress this year and defeat Hamilton on their own terms.

Say that does happen, and Hamilton does then move to Ferrari for 2021, it's entirely possible that such a switch - still very much hypothetical at this stage - backfires and means he won't have his own glorious final triumph. He'd still be a prodigious six-time world champion, but just not the seven- or eight-time one he might have been had things played out differently.

That's not to say any of that will happen. In all likelihood it won't and Hamilton will waltz to a fourth successive title at the end of this year.

Then, unless the 2021 rules reset does dramatically shake-up F1's competitive order, he'd be favourite to go on and do it all again - sealing an eighth world title and eclipsing Schumacher's record, one that once looked like it might just survive the test of time.

Hamilton is already close to bettering Schumacher's all-time win record of 91 (he's on 84 heading into 2020). He can match his record of eight wins at one grand prix (Schumacher won the French GP eight times between 1994 and 2006) if he's victorious in Canada or Hungary this year, and Schumacher's overall podium record of 155 looks set to be bettered by Hamilton (151) in the early races of this season. Hamilton has already surpassed Schumacher in terms of poles (88 so far, compared to 68), but perhaps - given the Pirelli era will run until least the end of 2023 - Schumacher's fastest laps record of 77 (Hamilton is next up on 47) will remain.

Sporting failures are captivating because they show those that appear perfect are human after all.

Even before he pulled up injured in his final relay race, Bolt had already lost his final 100m race, with the bronze medal at the 2017 athletics world championships in London. The winner of that race was his long-time rival - the disgraced Justin Gatlin. Two great and imperfect stories - the ultimate winner bowing out without the final hurrah, and another showing that no one is intrinsically bad or good, or even that previous dodgy deeds do not define a whole story.

Human stories make sport - and motorsport especially - so compelling.

Hamilton's is a story that we may never see again. He is the first, and so far only, black F1 driver. He comes from a council estate in Stevenage and has used his talents to rise to the top of a sport basically reserved for the wealthy elite. His star status in other spheres makes him better known than any of his peers. Like it or not - and at the very minimum any true motorsport fan should respect him and his achievements - he is F1 to many.

The barriers to entry into motorsport are higher than ever before. Karting costs are rising, and many young drivers are abandoning their F1 dreams just to make a living as a professional in other areas of the sport.

Hamilton's is a fantastic story. However it ends - in glorious failure or walk-off triumph - it will be a tale that matters.