By Barney Flagman

Sunday Night Skip Barber’s second season is going to feel faster, sharper, and a little

meaner in the best way. Season 1 taught this paddock how to live with the FIA F4 instead of

the Skippy: drivers learned that exits are currency, that incident discipline is racecraft, and

that the drop-week economy turns steady Sundays into championship weapons. Mann

closed as the benchmark, Kelly made consistency look like offense, Miles set the pole

standard when he showed, and a late-season Mazza cameo proved rookies can steal the

scene if they show up prepared. That arc—from raw pace to grown-up execution—is the

foundation under everyone’s feet now.

The season 2 opener at Summit Point confirmed the league didn’t forget any of that over

the off-season. It was clean, green, and properly hard. Five lead changes with three

different leaders says the collective footwork got lighter. Leo Ovtcharov grabbed the opener

with the kind of start-to-stint control that wins titles, Bryan Kelly did the Bryan Kelly thing in

second—zero drama, maximum yield—and Tim Berti banked third with the sort of

methodical pace that travels to anywhere with white lines and consequences. Behind

them, Chris Herrera, Nick Mazza, and a deep pack fought through the same calculus: when

do you push, when do you live to fight two laps later, and when do you just not trip on pit

lane. Yes, those questions existed in the Skippy; but in the F4, answering them is an

absolute requirement.

The Discord debrief ovet the past week filled in the grain. Tire wear and pit execution

mattered in week one—several drivers admitted they still fumbled iRacing’s new pit UI,

including one who tried to take tires on the second stop and couldn’t make the clicks while

driving—and at least one car saw fuel settings go sideways mid-race. That’s not trivia; that’s

where races will be lost if you don’t practice the “boring” stuff. Meanwhile, the schedule

chatter lit up about Red Bull Ring, Sebring, Sonoma, and Brands, with a friendly split verdict

on Navarra and a lot of love/hate energy for Monza. If you want a tell for this season’s

personality, it’s that the conversation has shifted from “what’s fast?” to “how do I manage a

stint, nails pits, and keep the car under me for the last five?” That’s growth.

The paddock chat added a different layer: equipment. A surprising number of drivers are

still wrestling with VR tracking quirks and pedal setups, and there was a mini-clinic on why

limiting maximum brake pressure is a short-term crutch that turns into a long-term ceiling.

That matters at Monza, where straight-line stopping from v-max into a first-gear chicane

rewards the drivers who can modulate from aero grip to mechanical grip without flatteningthe brake trace. One veteran even recommended “get a head of steam and slam on the

brakes in testing” just to calibrate your feet and your fear. That’s not just good advice; at

Monza it’s survival.

So what should fans and drivers actually expect over the next eleven Sundays? First,

qualifying will matter more. This isn’t a series where you can routinely dig yourself out of

P12 unless chaos gifts you a reset; the field has learned to mind the incident ledger and

keep races green. On short-lap venues—think Brands or Summit—the front row is a

different sport now; the rest are playing speed chess in traffic and clean air is king. Season

1’s numbers already hinted at this: Mann converted poles and track position into five wins,

Miles turned Saturdays into team-photo time on Sunday grid walks, and Kelly’s average

finish of six flat was worth more than any single checkered flag ever would be. That

arithmetic didn’t evaporate over the break.

Second, pit windows and tire life will decide real points. It was subtle at Summit Point, but

the chatter makes it obvious: drivers are experimenting with whether to take tires at all, not

just when. The ones who rehearse their in-car pit macros and practice lane entry like it’s

Turn 1 are going to look like geniuses when everyone else is still arguing with the black box.

Expect at least two races this season to swing on a cold-tire out-lap and a clean merge.

Third, expect a podium shake-up due to the return of Leo Ovtcharov. In the Skippy era he

wasn’t just quick; he rewrote the meta with pressure-proof racecraft and a terrifying knack

for dictating pace from the lead. And he has ported that toolkit neatly to F4. The car

rewards his two superpowers—threshold braking and stint control—and Summit Point

already looked like a greatest-hits reel: assertive launch, calm mid-stint, zero drama at the

end.

If Leo commits to the calendar, he instantly becomes the championship’s pace car. Yes,

Mann’s the champ until someone takes it off him, and his “make speed look simple”

routine travels anywhere. Bryan Kelly remains the gold standard for points efficiency and is

overdue to convert one of these “no-mistake” Sundays into a statement win. Adam Miles,

whenever he drops in, turns qualifying into a math problem for everyone else. Behind them,

Berti’s braking discipline, Mazza’s rising ceiling, and Herrera/Hendrycks/Birkhimer/La’s

week-to-week punch give us a top ten that can flip on any given out-lap. The only real

question is whether the field steps up to keep Ovtcharov within arm’s reach. My money

says both are true, which is exactly why this season just got spicy.

Finally, Monza is an intriguing early-season audit. Drivers historically fear and

overcomplicate the track. In F4 trim it’s slipstream chess down three long straights,

maximal braking into two chicanes, and patience through Ascari and Parabolica. The draftwill pull cars into trying moves that haven’t earned; the good drivers will lift two beats early

and win the next 500 meters.

Season 2 isn’t a reboot. It’s act two of the same story: a league that started fast and a little

fragile now knows how to carry speed without spilling it. Summit Point showed the ceiling

lifted. Monza will test whether the floor did, too. Fans should expect cleaner fights, smarter

strategy, and more races won in the margins than in the mirrors. Drivers should expect to

work harder for every easy decision. That’s what good series do as they grow up.