You ever get the feeling you’re just missing out? That you’re stuck in the wrong place? That something is passing you by very, very quickly? This upcoming weekend, that feeling is for very good reason. That is, if you’re not in Monaco.
The grandest of all races in the world of Formula 1 is this weekend. They’ve been getting everything ready for the past few days, and as I’ve been reading the reports I’ve been clinging to every word, every description, dreaming of being there myself. Oh to bask in the glorious heat and haze of emissions…
When I was a kid, the thing I hated above all else was feeling like I was missing something, that I was unaware, that I was ignorant. That something was passing me by. I think that’s why I’m an insomniac – I just know that in another time zone somewhere, someone’s doing something fun and dang it, I should be there to play too. Who needs sleep when there are exciting things to do, places to see, people to meet, worlds to conquer? Sitting here in bed awaiting yet another operation, knowing that so many lucky jerks are in Monaco right now awaiting Schumacher, Raikkonen, et al, ergh, it burns me up with jealousy. And for me, that’s an incredibly bizarre and foreign experience, because I’m certainly not the jealous type. When men have in the past tried to play mind games with me, mentioning other women with the intent of inciting jealousy, it never happens. Sure, I’ll get angry if the situation dictates, but green with jealousy? Hardly. Jealousy is typically inexplicable to me. But right now, I’m jealous of every freakin’ person in Monaco.
Clearly I realize that there are very good reasons why I’m not there to cheer on Ferrari, and I accept that, I really do (or, at least, I’m starting to). But all the feelings of being left out, all the subsequent jealousy, it’s all serving to make me all the more determined to do something about it – just like when I was a kid. Leave me out, will you? Well I’ll show you! Sure, I’ll be watching the race on TV, but next year, dang it, I’m going to be there. If for some reason Monaco isn’t plausible, then I’ll make it to another race. I want to see Schumacher in action, I want to be there in Ferrari’s paddock to see the inner workings of Formula 1 for myself (okay, so that may take a few more years, but still, I’m working on it…)
I have no intentions of ever driving Formula 1, but I still respect it as one of the most difficult, grueling, and fantastic racing circuits in all the world. Even if I should be lucky enough to have my dreams come true and race in the 360 Challenge, as absolutely phenomenal as that would be, I’d still be bowing down before the likes of the Formula 1 drivers. They kick serious butt, and anybody who says racing isn’t a sport should just try giving that a whirl. No power steering, massive speed, tight unbanked corners, the unchanging passage of grueling time; heck, even strapping yourself into one of those rockets and daring to try and control it, that takes major determination, courage, and resolve (or sheer insanity, depending on who you talk to). This ain’t driving your Honda to the grocery store and back; it’s not driving a BMW, Porsche, or even my beloved Ferrari on the autobahn at breakneck speeds. It’s impressive, I respect it, and more than that, I love it. Now if only I could be there…
All this jealousy has brought up an idea. I’m going to make a list, The List, of all the things I’m going to do, all the things I’m missing out on, all the places I want to go, all the things I want to see, once all this medical crap is over and done with. The first entry will be Monaco. And you can bet once June 17th rolls around, this raging jealousy will become even more rampant once the 24 Hours of Le Mans starts. As much as I admire Formula 1, Le Mans is… that’s me. That’s me allllll over. That’s everything all rolled up into one glorious race. That’s my Empyrean. Heck, I think I might even be daring (or stupid) enough to want to try it myself. Le Mans is, after all, the very catalyst for turning my love of cars into a passion for racing. If it turns out I’m any good at this at all, if this disease really does subside the way they say it will, I’d love to work my way there. I doubt it’ll happen since I have the typically insurmountable disadvantage of age, but we’ll see. Dang, if only I’d been born into a racing dynasty… I knew when I lived in Italy that the Ferro Rosso was calling my name! Oh dear Enzo, why couldn’t I have called you ‘Padre’?! Hehe.
As for me, I’ll see you in Monaco next year. Anybody care to join me? 🙂
Meat and racing in Monaco?!?! You can never beat that. And as for the 24 hours of Le Mans, yes indeed that is you all over, however, don’t forget that you need to allow your partner driver some time to drive as well. No fair driving through the whole thing yourself! Although i’m sure you could do it! 😉
Sure it’s a big hypothetical, but still you’d be better off going a few miles away and spend the day lieing on the beach in Nice. Or if you really feel the need for sport, need I mention that a short drive would bring you to the World Cup, one thousand times cooler than any race.
I grew up dreaming about making it to the big leagues of NASCAR or Indy car racing…even NHRA/IHRA Top Fuel drag racing. At 36 (hitting 37 in August), it’s probably a bit late to be able to realize those dreams, but I still desire to go racing, even if my current dreams are a bit more “pedestrian” than when I was younger. More likely, I’ll end up doing my really fast left and right turn driving under the BMW CCA and SCCA banners, and zipping around local “bull ring” tracks in some form of “junkyard reject” class, but…hey…racing is racing.
One dream I’ll continue to hold onto is, driving at some ungodly amount of speed across the Bonneville salt. Although others may very well accomplish it before I manage to win my huge PowerBall jackpot (I only play 1 ticket/drawing date, when the jackpots go that high), but one of my dreams is to hit 500 MPH in a piston engined, wheel driven vehicle. Until then, I’ll have to be content with finding out what I can do, at Bonneville, with a turbocharged 2.5L 4-banger in a 1980 Ford Pinto wagon.
As to F1/racing in general being a real sport, I loved it a few years ago, when Juan Pablo Montoya & Jeff Gordon traded rides for some hot laps around the IMS road course. If I remember correctly, it was Montoya that said of Gordon’s (then) Winston Cup ride, “it was like driving a school bus, compared to my F1 BMW.”