Like any art form - yes art, Ebert be damned, gaming may have grown diverse over the decades since its 8-bit monochrome inception. However, there is one common thread running through its inherent complexity. As distinct as they may be, every single gaming genre houses two fundamental subdivisions. In the FPS, you have tactical shooters at one end of the spectrum and old school run-gun-and-take-it-like-a-man varieties at the other. The RPG games are home to simplistic hack-n-slash fare, as well as the meticulous intricacies of an elaborate D&D rule set.
The racing genre is a binary affair as well, with arcade and simulation variants. What you basically have are two elementary gameplay mechanics employing diametrically opposite approaches. One favoring the instant gratification of arcade games, while the other rewarding the mastery of the infinitely complex simulation model. The former derives fun from its twitch based mechanics and the latter uses realism to achieve the same.
Racing sims employ the actual laws of physics, which provide an infinite gameplay scope. They work on an effort/reward model, where a considerable knowledge is required to gain any degree of satisfaction. However, when you do get it all figured out, the complexity ensures that it takes years before your learning curve hits a plateau. I know because I still prefer Richard Burns Rally over anything, despite having first installed it aeons ago.
On the other hand, the simplicity of the arcade games ensures that they can be mastered in no time, which means you invariably hit a glass ceiling, where no amount of experience brings forth any improvement. In other words, they get boring and repetitive quicker than you can say Roadrash. It's for this reason, arcade games have to be paired with gimmicks like elaborate storyboards, mounted weapons, upgrades, cop chases etc., to hold player interest.
This sums up why F1 games never really worked in India. Most people here just don't give a damn about automobiles. Yes, there are poseurs, who like to call themselves auto enthusiasts, but can't tell a differential from a distributor cap. So, clearly, a simulation model is out of the question. Although all the racing junkies here may be restricted to the arcade domain, it still doesn't work out for F1 games, since you can't really have vehicle mounted weapons, a dramatic plot, or cop chases to mitigate the relatively boring and limited gameplay scope of arcade games. But there is hope. For every art house French film, which is the celluloid equivalent of racing simulators, there is a Quentin Tarantino who fuses the best parts of arty-farty movies with palatable Hollywood fare.
Codemasters are essentially the gaming counterparts of Tarantino in this respect. With titles like Colin McRae Rally (not the posthumous ones) and Race Driver: Grid, they have proven themselves as an authority on quasi-racing simulators that combine the depth and physics of sims but are just as instantly gratifying as any arcade racer. Being British, it's only fitting that they're developing F1 2010, as it's the pommies who are behind almost every engineering aspect involved in the sport. So it's a forgone conclusion that Codemasters will have done what they do best and turn the F1 game franchise around with their eclectic blend of the simulation and arcade genres. If you didn't see that literary cliche coming, Codemasters made a complete mess of things.