George Russell repeatedly insisted he was not thinking about the world championship. He made the claim with a poker face, and it was utter balderdash.

That was proven when, after electrical failure ended his dazzling contribution to the Canadian Grand Prix, he threw his headrest on the track. He banged both hands on his car.

He walked off disconsolately, hands on hips, and was destined to fall 43 points behind his Mercedes team-mate, the 19-year-old pretender Kimi Antonelli who went on to claim his fourth successive victory, with Lewis Hamilton (remember him?) runner-up for Ferrari and Max Verstappen third for Red Bull.

‘It feels like the gods don’t want me to be in this fight,’ lamented Russell. ‘Right now it is Kimi’s to lose. I don’t want to be here talking like this. I am frustrated. I want to be in the fight. I hope luck turns.’

It would take a heart of stone not to feel for Russell. This at the Gilles Villeneuve circuit he loves so much, where he won a year ago, and where he had placed every fibre of his hopes about relaunching his bid for that title he tells you he is not even considering.

He had lost the previous three races to Antonelli, two with serious strikes of misfortune in China and Japan, and here he was driving at the peak of his abilities. It took two of them to tango, mind, and Antonelli was superb too.

The two Silver Arrows went at it mano a mano, wheel-to-wheel for the first 30 laps until Russell’s car conked out and he pulled up, prompting his best Basil Fawlty impersonation. If only a tree branch had been within reach.

They had exchanged the lead eight times, I think, but it would take Archimedes to be certain of the exact figure.

On some laps, Russell ran deep at the hairpin and that gave Antonelli a chance, a sniff of blood. And then, time and again, Russell would keep his foot down, unwilling to deviate from his chosen line.

Antonelli was aware of this obduracy. He had served a hint of it the day before in the sprint, when he tried an audacious overtake on the outside of the first bend. Russell refused to yield.

They kissed wheels, and Antonelli went moaning all the way back to the paddock. Russell won that 23-lap dash with Antonelli second. The Italian’s victory in the main event was far more precious: 25 points to Russell’s eight on Saturday.

The sense of disappointment that pierced the British driver, aged 28 and with his maiden tilt at a world title in a dominant car, was made all the more agonising by the fact he had been so accomplished all weekend.

That amounted to pole in the sprint, a clean start then, that defiant defence under pressure from Antonelli. He kept his head while his team-mate briefly lost his.

Then, a pole for yesterday’s race, a flying lap conjured at the last moment from up his sleeve after a tricky session.

Any reservations in this assessment of Russell’s performance? Well, after a decent launch after two aborted starts (Racing Bull’s Arvid Lindblad couldn’t get into gear), he was over-cautious into the first bend.

Antonelli thus took the lead. Russell, to my mind, looked in slight command for most of their scrap. But it was marginal. That is how superb Antonelli was. He is learning fast in his second season.

The one moment in all their skirmishing, at times just a cigarette paper apart, came on lap 25 of 68 (or of 30 in George’s case). At the chicane, they banged rubber. Antonelli had to cut the corner.

He was told to give the place back. ‘Why, mate?’ came the response. ‘He pushed me off. What’s the point?’ Antonelli, though, complied.

By the time Russell was staring at his car being carried to its garage resting place - and a post-mortem - the remaining Silver Arrow was ahead, indeed by 11 seconds ahead at the close.

Russell was back in the media pen by then, trying to be as brave as possible. He said of his misfortune: ‘I am almost lost for words. Everything turned off all of a sudden. The engine stopped, no electronics, no proper braking. But I’m proud of my weekend.’

It was also an awful day for defending world champion Lando Norris and his McLaren team. They put on intermediate tyres at the start for rain that never fell. They were reshod and out of kilter throughout. Both Norris and Oscar Piatsri had been lapped by lap 24.

Norris retired with a technical problem. A shame, but he already has a title to his name. His old pal-cum-rival George doesn’t, and it is why his black day hurt so much more.