"...Benvenuti a questo Formula 2 Italian Mega Prix!"
"...Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the grand finale of the season. Good evening, and welcome! This is the Italian Mega Prix!"
Steve Cole was in a particularly good mood today. The commentary gantry he shared with Jon had never been more electric before, and their microphones had never been clearer. Even so, they could hardly hear themselves as the multitude occupying the grandstands of a circuit roughly the size of Central Park intensified their noise once the official broadcast began.
"...one hour till lights out!"
"...Un'ora al semaforo verde!"
"..the teams are in position, and in just a short while, we will witness the final showdown of the Formula 2 championship!"
"..the stakes couldn't be higher today. Months of relentless competition have led to this very moment, and the grid is set for an intense battle on one of the most demanding circuits on the calendar. Precision, strategy, and raw speed will be key as the drivers prepare for lights out..."
PROVISIONAL TEAMS' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.
Position | Team | Points
-----------------------------------
1. | Trampos Racing | 275
2. | Bueseno Velocità Jnr. | 238
3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 236
4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 175
5. | Retona Racing | 90
"...it is unbelievable we are about to have the last race of the season for the Formula 2 division. Right from Germany to Italy, from Bad Raunberg to Monza, this could only be described as Trampos Racing's season as they clinched 1st Place for 12 rounds!"
If Luca and Haas could get just enough points to keep Trampos ahead of Velocità after this race, then Trampos would have the lead. It didn't matter if any of them won the race, they just needed higher points accumulated than Max and Dani Walding.
Based on the current standings, Trampos held a solid 37-point advantage over Velocità. To maintain their lead, either Luca or Haas would need to finish in the top five, while the other could place anywhere in the top ten—assuming both Max and Dani finished in the top five.
However, if Max and Dani finished outside the top five but still within the top ten, then Luca and Haas would only need to finish somewhere in the top ten as well, regardless of whether it was top five or not.
This put Trampos in a highly favorable position to clinch the championship, while Velocità Jnr faced an uphill battle with only a slim chance to turn things around. As for Squadra Jnr, their only hope rested on sheer miracles—like their rivals suffering DNFs—if they wanted to snatch an improbable championship win.
"...Who's your bet, Jon? Which colors do you think will soar in victory this evening...?"
"...Well, I see Squadra fans out in force, dressed in their black and gold, their black and silver. They're chanting, convinced their team will claim victory—regardless of what the analytics say. But the loudest voices in the crowd? Those belong to the fans in blue. And rightfully so. As reigning champions, this is the perfect stage for Bueseno Velocità to defend their title and add more glory to their name."
"...Jon, you slippery snake, you still haven't answered my question...!"
PROVISIONAL DRIVER'S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.
Position | Team | Points
---------------------------------------
1. | Max Addams | 155
2. | Luca Rennick | 151
3. | Miles Bellingham | 146
4. | Sean Aaronson | 144
5. | Ansel Hahn | 115
"...Steve, I'm a man of calculations, data, and cold hard analytics. Unlike the Driver's Standings, where the odds are spread, I see very little chance for Velocità Jnr to snatch first from Trampos—and close to none for Squadra. I mean, Steve, Luca Rennick is locked in and ready for action."
After a while, the circuit went through its usual routine of announcing the VIPs. There were so many names that it felt like it would never end, making Ansel wonder just how much more exclusive Formula 1's own finale could possibly be.
He had enjoyed the performance by TwoFluffyEggs, and now, all he wanted was for the race to begin. From his seat alongside his family and Ken, he had a sharp, angular view of Trampos' garage.
Ansel recognized every damn crew member he spotted, each moving with purpose, fine-tuning the pit box, adjusting tire blankets, double-checking telemetry, and laying out last-minute tools.
McCauley, as usual, didn't seem to be doing much. He was just standing there with a mug of coffee in hand while his younger crew members bustled around, making final adjustments.
Ansel sighed and glanced up at the sky, relieved to see that there was no sign of rain unlike the last race in France. Though the sun was behind clouds and there was cold, soft wind, the forecast had predicted it to remain . And a perfect weather it was for racing.
"...a well-executed strategy today might mean victory or heartbreak. If things didn't go as planned for Trampos, it might just be the biggest heartbreak in the history of this sport..."
"...first championship title up for grab for Trampos Racing and their bright star, Luca Rennick! The tension is building, the fans are on their feet, and everything is set for what promises to be a thrilling race!"
"...Stay with us as we count down to lights out—this is the Italian Mega Prix!"
"...TRENTA MINUTI AL VIA!"
"...THIRTY MINUTES TO LIGHTS OUT!"
"How the heck are there this many people?" Haas muttered under his breath after the last collective roar literally shook the walls of their dressing room.
Luca laughed from the side, in the middle of getting fully dressed after dropping his MP3 player. He glanced at Haas. "You aren't in no pressure now, are you?"
Haas shook his head as he stood up. "Of course I am," he said. "We aren't champions yet. What if I hit the barricades, huh? And you fail to make top three?"
"My grandpa used to smoke a blunt when he was under pressure. I wish I could do the same," Haas blurted out with a stretch before walking toward the exit.
"Where are you going?" Luca asked.
Haas shrugged. "Take a blunt, I guess?" he said with a laugh before disappearing behind the door.
Luca's own laughter faded into the silence of the room as he put on his gloves. He could hear the noise coming from the circuit—it was loud, very loud.
Big, legendary circuits like Mandalora and the Serpeggiare were roughly half the size of Vatican City. So, you could imagine just how massive they were and the kind of deafening noise that erupted from the fans.
Luca's right foot felt uncomfortable in his racing shoes, so he propped it on a bench and adjusted the fit, trying to find some comfort.
Just then, the door opened, and Sam, one of the youngest crew members, walked in. He was an adorable, chubby lad, and his sudden entrance startled Luca.
"What's up, pal?" Luca asked, turning his head. He immediately noticed the boy's melancholic expression and wondered why.
"This will be your last race for us, right?" Sam asked, his head down. "I wanted to say goodbye… you might be too busy and high after the celebrations."
Luca paused what he was doing, studying the boy for a moment. Despite his round shape, he had seen Sam doing pushups with the crew a few times. The Trampos Veststar uniform fit him snugly, but with his build, the boots looked more like rain boots than ideal crew gear.
"This MIGHT be my last race for Trampos. It's not confirmed yet, but it's likely," Luca corrected, finally finding comfort in his right foot. He turned around and sat on the bench. "And don't come saying things this touching before a race. I have plenty of time to say goodbye if I do leave."
The boy nodded, then apologized. "You're a good racer. Please win the championship for us today. Crash Max again."
Luca chuckled, shaking his head. "I can promise you the first, but not the latter," he said before standing up. "C'mon, move along, chap. I need a clear head. Seventy-five laps is no joke."
The boy nodded. "I also came to tell you… it's prayer time."