"Papa, please let me go, I want to be a driver, like ----- please " you begged your father as you would tug on his hand after all he started your interest in the sport. Ever since you were a baby you sat on the couch watching the races and since you turned four you nagged, and you remember it being February of 1976 when he agreed. He took you to the go kart track and you rented out some gear, a small suit with. A balaclava and a helmet. You heard the quiet whispers from the boys whose ages ranged from 3 up to around 6 and you ignored them and got into the small kart before waiting as the engine roared to life under you. You drove with focused despite the giggling joy you felt in yourself as you made your way around the unknown track, trying to keep composed as you made way around the track.
You were seconds behind a podium, tenths off fourth place but you were proud as you pulled up and parked the small. A grin on your face beneath the helmet a laugh bubbling your throat, the thrilled that came with race you participated in was electrifying. You pulled the helmet off before running to your dad, "I love it papa, I really love it " you said unable to keep the giggles from erupting through your word before facing the small podium of the winning children. There was a dirty blonde haired boy stood with a smile on his lips.
After that day your dad went out bought you a racing suit of your own, your name stitched into the fabric of your waist, a simple but effective black helmet which you one day wanted to have a design unique to you. Racing boots gloves and balaclava and the last thing you received was a kart. It certainly wasn't top model, but it was perfect to you, a smile that was unable to be ripped from your face when your mum and dad showed you and every opportunity that you had you took so you could be at the track as you want to be the be. Yet you were in awe of the boy you first saw on the 1st place pedestal, you would always see him with his dad, and he was amazing, and you would watch him from afar, too nervous to talk to the older boy.
You sometimes got to drive in a free practice when it wasn't a race with him, both of you taking the same lines, swerving to block and attack and it felt like am unpractised dance and it was thrilling. It took around three weeks of your unspoken routine and a few successful races before you both spoke to one another. Michael first approached you after your first shared podium. You remember being a little afraid but smiled at the older boy.
"Congratulations on third place, you drive well" he said with a small smile, clearly wanting a brief Interaction but still being polite with you. "You could get far in this sport "He spoke before having to rush off as his dad called him over making him leave with a wave.
You smiled before you ran over to your dad, your small third place trophy in your clutch. You rambled happily as you and your dad started to clean your kart up, before putting it in the back of the van.
When you were growing older you tried to follow the older boy, collecting magazine scraps, watching races all whilst you focused on the career you had created and earned for yourself. You still came to the racetrack that the Schumacher's owned, first because it was close to you and second you may get to talk to Michael. You had paid the sum needed to participate in the race which consisted of a group of teenage boys and names you had popularly heard. But over the past 6 years any chance you got to race against the older German was always a tousle of fun. You were great at grid starts, pushing through gaps that seem impossible before making up easy two to three critical places and today was one of those days. Starting in 7th and now in third behind Häkkinen and Schumacher. Following hot on his tail but the Finn was stubborn and impossible to get past and it remained like that for the remainder of the race, but you were third, the price you paid to enter under a German nationality paid off, it paid off to be put into a continuing championship despite being three years younger; it felt great to say the least. A smile unable to escape your lips, each congratulating one another, and it was in that moment with them on the podium you felt able enough, you felt on the same capabilities that one day if you got the chance, you could do it.
