The Team // A Formula One AU

George

The atmosphere is different.

It's quiet. Everyone is focussing, visualising, meditating, planning. Rather than light-hearted well-wishes I'm receiving stern nods from my competitors. The seven of us who stand a chance of winning are being left well alone by the others. Not even Weird Old Phil dares to interrupt us.

I'm sitting at an empty table and counting my competitors in my mind, scribbling numbers down in my notebook. Carlos can only win the championship joint with me and Max, and that's if he comes first and we both get no points. Seb and Daniel also need to finish above us to take the title. Then there's Lewis. His starts aren't usually that great, but he knows how to come through from behind.

Max and I are tied at the top with Lando only a point behind after Los Angeles. It all comes down to today. We all qualified well. Starting in second place between the two of them doesn't really suit my style, having to defend as well as attack, but being on the front row means I might be able to end up ahead of Max after turn one.

I scribble my pen to get it to work. It's finally running out after the amount of ink it's painted in my journal over the last few weeks, but it has enough left to do one last calculation.

My fuel load. The difference between being light enough to overtake Max and running out of petrol on the final lap. I check it three times before glancing around and slamming my notebook shut.

Twenty minutes to go.

I empty my fuel tank and head next door to get some fresh stuff for the race. Erik is on fuel duty today. He fills a jerry can to my exact specifications and reminds me not to attempt fuelling my car without someone else there to supervise. Carlos catches my eye from across the fuel room and we silently agree to watch each other, but there won't be any friendly banter before today's race.

Ten minutes to go.

I zip up my race suit for the last time and notice how differently it fits since I first got it. I've become much fitter since the start of the season and I think I've grown a bit taller too. If I grow much more I might be too tall for Formula One.

Two minutes to go.

I rev my engine as we pull out one by one for the formation lap. It's too late for mental checklists now, I just focus all my attention on steadying my mind ready for those lights to go out. At the beginning of the season Max might have looked across at me as I pulled up beside him on the grid, but by now he's developed his own type of mental strength.

You just focus on yourself until you cross the finish line.

The lights go out.

I don't hear the roar of the engines, I don't notice the way I'm pressed back into my seat as I break away from the line and hurtle down towards the first corner. We're racing neck and neck and I know this could be a great chance at an overtake.

But I don't get there in time. Max cuts across sharply and I have to brake to avoid a collision. But there are twenty-six laps to go. Settle down, settle in, and focus.

The race is hard.

Everyone wants it, everyone is giving their last ditch attempt to finish on a high, working their karts to the brink of destruction. I see Kimi flying up the timing board, Daniel battling Lando just behind me, Lewis quietly picking off opposition as the minutes fly by. It's the sixteenth lap when I finally overtake Max after he makes a mistake going into the hairpin.

Deep breaths. Stay alert.

We race wheel to wheel, overtaking on the inside then losing position when the track curves back and we find ourselves on the wrong foot again. I finally pull away. This is it, I think, it's safe now.