the money shot (max verstappen )

spanish gp

the first light went on.
then the second.
max took a deep breath, focussed on nothing but the race ahead.
the third light went on.
hamilton was in pole, that was maxs first hurdle.
the fourth.
the fifth.
there was a moment of still. like when you would play on a swing as a child and hang in that space without gravity before you came tumbling back down.
the lights went out and time came rushing back in.

max felt himself slam into the back of his seat, the g forces forcing his head back into his headrest. he powered down the straight, flying towards turn 1 ahead. he had the inside line as he approached, which provided him with just enough space to squeeze alongside hamilton. max broke late and turned his wheel with everything he had. they exited the corner and max took the lead, speeding ahead into the nexts turns.

he felt the adrenaline running through every nerve in his body, fuel by his early overtake. he put a decent distance between himself and hamilton that only grew with each lap. then, on lap 9 he heard the two words he had been dreading most over the radio, "safety car, safety car."

the stream of drivers fell in line and followed behind the car, allowing hamilton to significantly decrease the distance between himself and max. on lap 11 they were freed and the racing resumed. again, max got away well, doing everything he could not to drag hamilton along in his slip stream.

he held the lead well until lap 25 when he was called into the pits. the tire change wasn't great, taking 4 seconds instead of the usual two, but regardless, max sped back onto the track, exiting in fourth behind riccardo, with leclerc in front of him and then hamilton taking over the lead. max powered on and a few laps later was able to squeeze past riccardo.

on lap 29 hamilton made his first pit of the race. this fuelled max, making him push himself even more, motivated by the prospect of reclaiming the lead. this fire allowed him to overtake leclerc and just as hamilton was exiting the pits, max sped past, into the lead.

his heart pumped faster than it had all race, the mixture of excitement and anxiety that came with leading a race was often overwhelming.

max continued to hold his lead, with hamilton close on his tail. it was a hard race ahead. his team had decided they would only pit once, meaning he would finish the race on 41 lap old medium tires. the only thought that gave him hope was that that hamilton tires would also be suffering with old tires. then on lap 42 he heard news over the radio that made his heart sink, " max, hamilton is going for the two stop strategy, it's important to push now. I repeat hamilton is going for a two stop strategy."

maxs stomachs dropped, finishing this race in the lead was going to be harder than he expected. hamiltons pit would put him behind a decent amount of cars, there was still hope that he wouldn't catch max in time.

max charged on, knowing he had to make ground now more than ever, but as he did he worried about the degradation it caused for his tires. he was in an impossible situation.

as the race went on, max was updated on lewis's position and the time difference between them. by lap 52 hamilton had overtaken everyone par bottas, and both were roughly 10 seconds behind max.

max fought on as best he could as he felt the tires become weary beneath him. lap after lap after lap he stayed ahead but lewis was gaining rapidly. eventually, on the first corner of lap 60, lewis ran around the outside of max, snatching away his first place.

max hated that feeling. having that hope being ripped away from you. it churned in your gut and stuck in your throat, making it hard to swallow. as hard as tried, there was nothing he could do. his tires fell away more and more, until the road felt like ice and hamilton escaped ahead of him. the further ahead he got, the more the sour pit within max grew.