In the high-stakes world of Formula 1, podiums usually mean trophies, team radio celebrations, and champagne sprays. Occasionally, they deliver pure, unscripted magic. One of those moments arrived on a sunny afternoon in Montreal in June 2017, when Sir Patrick Stewart, the legendary actor known for *Star Trek* and *X-Men*, took a long pull of champagne from Daniel Ricciardo’s sweat-soaked racing shoe. The “shoey” that followed remains one of the most delightful crossover moments in modern motorsport history.
It was not a stunt planned by publicists. It was not forced. It was pure, joyful chaos—and it perfectly captured why Formula 1 has always thrived when its competitive intensity collides with larger-than-life personalities.
THE RACE THAT SET THE STAGE
The 2017 Canadian Grand Prix delivered a strong result for Mercedes. Lewis Hamilton took the win, Valtteri Bottas finished second, and Ricciardo secured third for Red Bull after a gritty, defensive drive. The Australian had been under pressure for much of the race and later admitted he only started enjoying himself once the chequered flag fell. Three podiums in a row felt significant for a Red Bull team still finding its feet in the hybrid era.
Ricciardo had already turned the “shoey”—an Australian drinking tradition of consuming alcohol from a shoe—into his personal podium signature. He had shared the ritual with teammates, team principals, and even other celebrities. Fans in Montreal knew what was coming. When the microphone reached him, the crowd roared its approval. Ricciardo obliged, pouring champagne into his race boot and downing it to massive cheers.
Then he turned to the man holding the microphone.
THE MOMENT THAT WENT VIRAL
Sir Patrick Stewart was conducting the podium interviews that day. The British actor, then in his mid-70s and a guest of the Mercedes team that weekend, had already charmed the paddock. When Ricciardo offered him a taste, Stewart did not hesitate.
“Would you like some?”
“I’d love some, yeah.”
What followed was pure gold. Stewart lifted the shoe, drank with genuine enthusiasm, and declared it a “good vintage.” Hamilton, standing nearby, could barely contain his disbelief, joking about the state of Ricciardo’s feet. Stewart’s response was perfect: he was on the podium for the first time and would drink out of anybody’s shoe.
The clip spread instantly. Social media lit up with reactions ranging from pure delight to mock horror. For a sport sometimes accused of being too polished or corporate, this was refreshingly human.
WHY THE SHOEY MATTERED BEYOND THE LAUGHS
The moment mattered because it humanized everyone involved. Ricciardo’s brand had always leaned into fun, approachability, and a refusal to take himself too seriously. Sharing the shoey with a knighted Shakespearean actor elevated that image. It showed that the tradition was not just a quirky Australian habit but something that could cross cultural and generational lines.
For Stewart, the episode reinforced his reputation as a good sport with genuine curiosity about the world beyond Hollywood and the stage. Fans of *Star Trek* suddenly found themselves watching F1 highlights. Motorsport fans discovered (or rediscovered) an actor who was clearly enjoying the moment rather than performing for cameras. In an era when celebrity appearances at grands prix can feel staged, this one felt authentic.
The broader industry impact was subtle but real. Formula 1 has long courted Hollywood and entertainment stars, but few interactions have aged as well as this one. It demonstrated the power of unscripted moments in building the sport’s cultural reach. Years later, the clip still circulates whenever Ricciardo or Stewart trends, serving as a reminder that personality remains one of F1’s strongest assets.
THE LASTING LEGACY OF A SHOE FULL OF CHAMPAGNE
Ricciardo’s shoey tradition eventually became less frequent as his career evolved, but the Stewart moment stands as its high-water mark. It was the point when the ritual transcended the paddock and entered mainstream conversation. Other drivers and celebrities have participated since, yet few matched the pure surreal joy of watching Jean-Luc Picard and Professor X chug from a Red Bull racing boot.
In today’s Formula 1—more global, more commercially polished, and more carefully managed—such spontaneous moments feel rarer. That scarcity only increases their value. The 2017 Canadian podium did not change championship standings or rewrite technical regulations. It simply reminded everyone that elite sport is still capable of producing pure, shared delight.
Sir Patrick Stewart did not just take a shoey. He became part of Formula 1 folklore. And in a sport that runs on speed, strategy, and spectacle, that kind of cultural footprint is worth celebrating—shoe and all.
