Memoirs of a Motor Racer

“When I grow up, I want to be a race car driver”. These were the words I spoke to my bemused father when he asked me what I wanted to do for a living when I was older. I was five years old at the time and he had no reason to take my childish ambition seriously. He probably dismissed my words as quickly as one would dismiss any misguided dream harboured by a child untouched by the harsh realities of life. But that dream was about to become a reality...

After putting on my race suit, I check that my gloves are correctly fitted and then I try my helmet on. I check my gloves again. My palms are sweaty. After a moment of deep meditation, I take a deep breath, stand up with my helmet in left hand and stride purposefully out of the locker room. While it may be my first race ever, I am determined not to let any anxiety get the better of me. I climb into my car for the start of the race. I am third on the starting grid. Yes, I was third fastest in qualifying – not bad for a rookie. The weather had been great, my car was buzzing and I had simply been in one of my “do you feel lucky” moods. The conditions had been perfect; I drove some stunning bends and finished less than half a second behind pole position. The big question on my mind now was whether I could repeat such a flawless performance in the real thing, when the stakes were highest.

I look up and I can see the dark clouds hovering above us. It looks like the skies aren’t going to be so kind today. I am deeply focused as I take my place on the grid. I’ve got the Ferrari in pole position and the McLaren in second in my sights. The break of light showers from the heavens can barely break my perfect concentration as I expectantly wait for the red light to turn green….and there it goes! My car seems to jerk into motion and the BMW, which started fourth on the grid storms past me as we turn into the first bend. The cars in fifth and six are on my shoulders as we emerge from the bend. I try to block their paths but my start hasn’t been quick enough. I let them go past me knowing that if I remain calm and perform like I know I can, I’ll still get my chance later on. No race is determined after one lap. I hold seventh place for about half the lap, but something seems awfully wrong as I feel eighth breathing down my neck. The power and drive seem to have deserted my vehicle – it’s not performing with the zest with which it undertook the qualifying session. My team signals a pit stop after just one lap. Oh no, this is a disastrous start. As I pull into the pits, I begin to contemplate the most disappointing debut in the history of sport, and this after promising so much too. I change karts, and despite the record breaking four-second pit stop, when I leave the pit lane I’m in sixteenth place and it’s only the second lap of the race!

Okay, remain calm, I tell myself. I may have fallen way back and while I now have a mountain to climb, all I need is some inspiration to spark me to unprecedented glory. Think Chariots of Fire, Think Miracle of Damman, Think Cool Runnings....no wait – not Cool Runnings – they didn’t cross the finish line! The new vehicle is absolutely purring and I get into a nice rhythm. It doesn’t take long before I am in the ascendancy; I’m going past my rivals at the rate of about one driver per lap. My car change has paid off handsomely and I’m going faster and faster with each passing lap. I’m overtaking like a man possessed. With twenty laps gone I’m back in eighth place. As I turn into the long stretch of the track I can see seventh in the distance. I have him in my sights but I’m focusing on the road now as it will take me a while to cut his lead down to size...

Ten laps to go. I am now breathing down the neck of seventh place, who is in a fierce battle for position with the two cars ahead of him. He’s barely a second ahead of me. This doesn’t give me much time to react when, turning the sharpest corner on the whole circuit, they become entangled and are involved in a nasty three vehicle collision! My heart skips a beat and as would anyone else’s who is becoming gripped by my enthralling comeback. It looks for a second that it might get cut short prematurely....but then my unscathed vehicle emerges from the dust and the rubble of the multiple car pile-up. My reflexes are too good to be stopped by such accidents. Destiny beckons. I’m back in contention now and before long I am approaching the McLaren and the BMW in second and third places respectively. They’ve been in a bitter battle for second all race long, overtaking each other several times. But all that is about to change. As we approach the sharpest bend on the track once again, the two of them are deadlocked. With laps running out, I will have to take my chance now to stand any chance of catching the Ferrari. There’s no room to pass on the outside or the inside of them – there is barely the width of a car between them but somehow I manage to squeeze through. I feel the strong torrent of wind between them rush across my face and there is barely a whisker separating my kart from theirs on either side of me. As we emerge from the corner, all they can see is my exhaust. Wow! They’ll be talking about that manoeuvre on the news tonight! The final lap. And I’ve finally caught the Ferrari. The momentum is with me but he is still ahead of me, by fractions of a second. He will do well to hold me off. He proves up to the task at every bend and corner. Until now, I have been untroubled by the light drizzles but now it is raining heavily. This doesn’t help overtaking conditions on sharp bends. It seems that the end of the race may have come a lap too soon, but I must keep believing that I can still win. In my mind’s eye, I can see myself beating him at the chequered flag, but in reality, the heavy downpour is blurring my vision. I have one final chance to realise my vision as we enter the final straight. I put my foot flat on the accelerator and I seem certain to zoom past him....but suddenly he swerves in my direction. My reflexes are quick but the conditions are poor. The front of my kart clips his and I go skidding into the gravel and slam straight into the course barriers! I’m too stunned to tell you at what speed exactly I was going when I careered into the barricades. I can tell you that I didn’t cross the finish line. I’m sitting in my kart stuck and with my hands raised up, waiting for the paramedics and rescue services to arrive to cut me out of this mess as quickly as possible. I see a couple of people running towards me but I can’t really make them out. As they arrive, I hear a very familiar voice call out to me, “Son, are you okay?” I look up and as my dizziness from crash clears up I can see my father standing with the course marshal. “Do you want to continue the race or would you like to retire?” I give them a thumbs up and the marshal pushes my kart back onto the track. I take the chequered flag in fourth place. Not bad for my first time go-karting. I narrowly miss out on a podium place, but I live to fight another day. I am twelve years old now and my dream of being a formula one driver is very much alive. After all, even Lewis Hamilton started out racing go karts!