Kathy Philpott
philpott.kathy@yahoo.com
More Than a Race
Victor walked the track for several hours, noticing any unusual curve or change that could affect his performance. The surface of the track is less smooth than last year. The tire grip will be affected. Given the weather conditions and his spot on the grid, the race will be complicated. Last year at this venue, the skies were clear, and the track had not been resurfaced. Of course, last year was the first year with Covid restrictions, so nothing felt familiar. This year, Victor's contract with the company, his position on the team, his marriage, and his global standing are all at stake. Covid is the least of his concerns. This year's weather is wet, foggy, and cold, much like his soon-to-be ex-wife's heart.
After two days of qualifying, Victor places third on the grid for the upcoming race. Of course, Robert has skillfully nabbed pole position. Robert is Victors' teammate and the current world champion and media darling. Robert also believes the rules and safety restrictions don't apply to him. Of late, Robert has acquired a troublesome number of penalty points for risky choices on the track.
This Grand Prix track is one of the more difficult venues and eats tires even in the best weather conditions. A driver has to monitor his tires constantly as to wear and deterioration. Today's race will be more like a deep dive into a swimming pool with all the drivers trying not to spin or hydroplane off the track or into one another. Drivers depend on their engineers to radio and monitor all aspects of the car, especially in extreme weather like today. The only information the driver can see displayed on his dash is the long row of lights that indicate gear change, speed, and lap sequence. The radio engineer is the link to everything else in the race; the speed compared to the other drivers, team strategy, and pit calls. The relationship between a driver and his engineer is significant.
This is Victors' tenth Grand Prix at this venue. Last year, after a disappointing qualifying, he came from 12th place, fighting for first. His 46th lap was the fastest lap of the race. He thought finally the race Gods were lining things up for his first podium of the season. Victor was in a position to overtake the leader when his engineer informed him to allow Robert to pass him and take the lead. It was a team decision. Victor was used to it, but he was pissed. Robert is definitely the favored driver in the team, with Victor feeling like Robert's wingman. Victor's podium dreams are never as important as the teams' insistence on Robert's victory. Robert has become a kind of monster that requires constant attention.
Everything is coming out of the shadows this year for Victor. He is fighting for his very existence in the sport he's devoted his life to. He will continue to play by the rules but will no longer bend to the will of the so-called team. It's his time now.
Victor sits ready in his car, waiting for the start. The oil pressure is perfect, and the lights' contrast along the gear indicator is ready to go. The engines roar. The smell of gas and oil fills his senses. Just before the lights line up for the start, he hears the final check over the radio from his engineer, "Heres to a great race Victor. We are behind you." Victor has one goal in mind. He will win this race, with or without help from the team.
It's a chaotic start. The fight for position begins. Two cars spin out before the first chicane. The engineer confirms to Victor the cars involved in the incident are mid-level. There is a safety car for the next few laps as a caution, and the pit lane, for some reason, is closed. Although it's stormy and wet, Victor can still see the pit lane light.
The conditions on the track are growing worse with every lap. The black clouds are rolling across the horizon line, but it seems there is less rain and more of a dense fog forming a blanket of gauze surrounding everything. Some drivers become more fearless in the wet, and their skills and experience can create a huge advantage.
The temperature is dropping.
"Are they going to call the race?" Victor asks over his radio to the engineer.
Nothing. No response.
Victor looks at the dash; it's not responding. It's frozen.
"Hello? Hello?" Still no radio response from the engineer.
Although Victor can't see the other cars, he can still hear them. With a roar and a torrent of spray, he feels them pass. Where is he in the race? He's lost track of placement. All he can see is a gray, dense web all around him. He needs the engineer to respond. This is not the time to keep him in the dark. This situation is perilous.
"I really need to know what's going on. I think I want to come in. Hello? Damn it!"
Still no word from the engineer.
A million scenarios race through Victors' mind. He knows he can't really use his breaks because they could crash if someone is behind him. This is maddening. Now he can't find the pit lane or see the lights. His dash lights are still frozen. Victor knows the greatest threat to his race is fear, fear of failure, not fear of death. He must remain confident and controlled. Like the first days of carting when he was a little boy, he learned to drive and adjust to each situation without panic. Listen to the car. The drive and his safety depend on his confidence. Having driven this track so many times and in the simulator, he was confident he could drive it blindfolded. This is what he's doing today.
"Hello! God damn it! Talk to me!"
His hands are so cold.
"I need to know what the fuck is going on. I must be getting low on fuel. Hello? Hello?"
Victor can see his tires, and although there is wear, he'll be ok if he's near the end of the race. He's got to figure this out.
Victor takes a deep breath. His breathing slows, and muscle memory takes over. No wasted movements. The car is a part of him; they are connected.
He's on an incline, he can feel it, and now he's dropping down into a long open straight. He can see ahead. It's clear. The sky is still black, but the fog has shifted.
"Victor? Victor?" It's the engineer. Victor does not respond.
Victor can see the lights along the track, and he can see people in the stands.
'Is that the checkered flag?' he thinks to himself.
It is a well-earned result. It is Victor's race, after all.
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