Dopamine | Adrenaline Book Two

8- Cost of Racing

"Sing, goddess, of Achilles' ruinous anger

Which brought ten thousand pains to the Achaeans,

And cast the souls of many stalwart heroes

To Hades, and their bodies to the dogs

And birds of prey."

— Homer, Iliad

EMILIA ROMAGNA GRAND PRIX

RACE DAY

Having qualified in first place and Charles in third, they had built a plan in secret which involved a switch of positions. After the first pitstop, Max would fall back and act as a barrier or shield between Charles and his teammate, deflecting any attempts by Lewis to overtake with a display of his aggressive driving style. 

Their relationship was like a poem, where the impossible became possible whenever they were together. No one could deny that they would achieve whatever they set their minds to. Individually, they were invencible, but together? Unstoppable.

When the engines roared to life their plan unfolded with precision. Charles surged ahead, his Ferrari making justice to its historic name, while Max positioned himself strategically, slowing his pace ahead to let Charles catch up to both him and Lewis. And when the moment of truth arrived, with Lewis looming dangerously close, Max made a calculated move, blocking his way and giving Charles the opportunity to pass the two of them on the tenth lap of the race.

Yet, the unexpected variant in their meticulously crafted plan emerged like a specter from the shadows. Lewis Hamilton, undisputedly one of the best drivers in the history of Formula One, came forward to prove why he had such a title.

With a keen eye and lightning reflexes, Lewis deftly maneuvered his car to intercept Charles' approaching Ferrari, a calculated move. As the three cars hurtled into the same narrow curve of the track, wheel to wheel, Lewis, positioned on the outside of Charles, making a daring attempt to overtake. But when the Monégasque driver held his ground, refusing to yield an inch of precious track space, disaster struck.

In a split-second of chaos and confusion, the cars collided with bone-jarring impact, the sound of metal on metal echoing through the circuit. Taking Max's Red Bull with him, Charles' Ferrari bore the brunt of the collision, its fragile structure crumpling like paper against the unyielding barrier.

As the dust settled and the echoes of the crash faded into the distance, a hushed silence descended over the track and the grandstand across it, waiting impatiently for a sign of both drivers as Lewis drove away, taking the first position.

To outsiders, a Formula One car crash might seem to happen in a split second. But ask any professional driver, and they'll tell you otherwise—it feels like an eternity in the cockpit. The moment you lose control, you know what's coming and that there's nothing you can do about it. All you can do is brace yourself and wait for impact. Whether you'll come out unharmed or die is a gamble—it's a game of Russian roulette.

This is going to hurt.

And then you're out cold. If you're lucky enough to be unharmed, you'll wake up shortly after, feeling the intense impact of the G-force. It feels as if an external force tried to pull your brain out of your skull. It truly takes incredible toughness to simply walk out of a car after crashing into a wall at 300 km/h.