I was pretty low on Monday

“Oh, what’s the bloody point?”

The famous but enigmatic last words the actor and wit Kenneth Williams committed to his diaries were recently echoed by the world’s most successful golfer Scottie Scheffler. And these sentiments have chimed with Formula 1 drivers’ championship frontrunner Lando Norris.

“This is not a fulfilling life,” Scheffler told reporters shortly before the beginning of July’s Open Championship in Portrush, which he went on to dominate. “It’s fulfilling from the sense of accomplishment, but it’s not fulfilling from a sense of the deepest places of your heart.

“That’s something that I wrestle with on a daily basis. It’s like showing up at the Masters every year; it’s like why do I want to win this golf tournament so badly? Why do I want to win the Open Championship so badly?

“I don’t know because, if I win, it’s going to be awesome for two minutes, then we’re going to get to next week and it’s, ‘Hey, you won two majors this year, how important is it for you to win the FedEx Cup play-offs?’

“It feels like you work your whole life to celebrate winning a tournament for like a few minutes. It only lasts a few minutes, that kind of euphoric feeling.”

This from someone who has been the world’s number one for over two years. In the field of whacking a ball with a stick he is sans pareil, with PGA Tour career earnings (at the age of 29) in the region of £65million.

A phenomenon many sportspeople encounter is the vexatious swing in brain chemistry when the euphoria of winning subsides, to be replaced by existential angst. The ‘high’ is triggered by the release of the neurotransmitter dopamine – which, though popularly associated with pleasure, also has a potent effect on the so-called ‘executive functions’ of the brain, including movement and cognitive ability.

Withdrawal symptoms associated with dopamine ‘comedown’ include depression and anxiety. In elite sportspeople, this tends to invite the demons to arrive: self-doubt and the prospects of having to go through the mill again come the next competitive fixture.

Norris is both a golf aficionado and an outlier among modern F1 drivers in expressing his emotional journey openly rather than parking it for his memoirs, so it was no surprise that during his pre-Belgian Grand Prix press briefing he was invited to comment upon Scheffler’s musings. Three weeks ago, Norris won his home grand prix for the first time – surely a career highlight for any F1 driver – and yet the joy quickly subsided.

“I was pretty low on Monday [after the British GP] for different reasons,” he said.

“I quite liked what Scottie said. I respect that he’s quite honest about his own feelings about everything.

“He’s just honest about what he wants. Not everyone has to say what everyone believes in and what everyone thinks should be correct or not correct.

“I’m happy that someone that high up is achieving what he’s done. He’s performing to the same level that Tiger [Woods] did in many circumstances. That’s pretty amazing to see, to come out and say something like that. So I respect it a lot.

“I say I relate to a lot of it in many ways. But I think the main takeaway is just let the person be whatever they want to be. Let them do whatever they want to do.

“They don’t have to live the exact life that you think that they should. Or say what you think that they should or believe in. Or have the attitude. He lives very much his own way.

“And I think it’s quite cool to see someone like that achieving what he’s doing. Against Rory [McIlroy], against [Jon] Rahm, [Jordan] Spieth. All these other incredible people. And Schef [Scottie Scheffler] is just another level ahead.

“I think it’s pretty amazing to see that, with someone with the attitude like he had, which is not a bad attitude – it’s just his own way of achieving what he’s achieved. And I think you have to respect something like that… it was fascinating and cool to see someone performing at such an incredibly high level come out and just say what he did.”

Hill is another driver to admit the mental toll of competing was significant

Photo by: Motorsport Images

Damon Hill, the 1996 world champion, confessed to similar feelings in his autobiography Working The Wheel. For him, the issues of imposter syndrome began before he even reached Formula 1 – his father, twice a world champion, was a formidable and complex figure whose death when Damon was young brought financial ruin on the family. Winning grands prix and then the world championship ultimately brought no succour to Hill Jr because each mountain climbed simply brought the next summit into view.

“During my career I was always confused about whether I was authentically a racing driver,” he wrote, “or someone tasked with a mission to complete before I could become my true self.”

Former world heavyweight boxing champion Tyson Fury admitted to taking cocaine to battle depression brought on in part by bipolar disorder. More recently gymnast Simone Biles withdrew from the finals of the Tokyo Olympics at the height of her fame, citing mental health concerns, before making a gold medal-winning comeback in Paris last year.

Sportspeople are not alone in being tormented by the flow of brain chemistry. The aforementioned Williams was often venomous in his diaries about Nicholas Parsons, host of the radio panel show Just A Minute on which Williams was a perennial star guest. Asked to reflect on this in later years, Parsons would gently point out that ‘Kenny’ drew colossal energy and joy from performing for his audience and then would crash back to earth when he returned home to his empty apartment, whereupon he would pour this angst onto the page.

“It is quite short-lived,” said Norris. “I feel like winning at Silverstone has nothing to do with tomorrow.

“I feel like we go out tomorrow and it doesn’t matter who won the last five races or 10 races. In a way, no one cares about that. It’s just who can be the best tomorrow and perform the best over the next three days.

“It was great. But the focus is on this weekend.”