Race Day: Mar. 22, George Park, Melbourne, Australia.
Luca had mixed feelings after Mr. Grant confirmed that Erik Haas would be participating in most of the Sprint Races to build his ability and track awareness, ensuring he wouldn't remain a dormant driver. The problem was that Sprint Races, like the first race of the season, could determine grid positions for the main Featured Race. Luca didn't want to be stuck behind five cars at the very least.
Judging from Haas' potential, it didn't seem likely he would break into the top five, let alone reach the podium.
Fortunately for Luca, the grid position for today's Featured Race wasn't determined by the Sprint Race but by the final leaderboard from the previous race in Bad Rauenburg. Since Luca had finished third in Germany's F2 Grand Prix, he was set to start on the inside of row two—a strategic advantage that would help in his pursuit of victory today.
The team arrived early at George Park Circuit to prepare for the Sprint Race, with other F2 teams showing up at about the same time. Luca considered going to meet Harry for a quick chat, but he knew it would be unconventional, perhaps even unethical, given the circumstances.
George Park Circuit was drastically different from Bergwaldring, and the contrasts made Luca suspect that new faces might appear on the podium since the track required different strategies. One aspect in Luca's favor was that George Park consisted of just 46 laps—a relief until a nagging memory struck him as he remembered that he had only reached 6th place by the 46th lap at Bergwaldring.
The thought left him wishing George Park had more laps to offer.
The track presented more challenges than Bergwaldring, too: abrupt bends, tight chicanes, hairpin turns, and short, unforgiving straightways. The George Park Circuit was often called the sibling of the Serpeggiare for good reason. Another aspect that unsettled Luca was the closeness of the barricades.
The grandstands were so near the track they reminded him of bleachers hugging the edge of a wrestling ring. A troubling thought crossed his mind: What if a racer crashes into the crowd?
Nonetheless, the George Park Circuit was open for racing, with twenty F2 teams ready for the Sprint Race. The crowd was sparse this mid-morning but would undoubtedly swell before the Featured Race. The season's structure had reverted to its usual format, with F2 races scheduled on Saturdays while F1, branded as the 'main event' of the weekend, took place on Sundays.
Luca met with Mallow and his personal assistant, Sara, discussing crucial matters concerning the need to reach the podium or, even better, secure first place in today's Featured Race.
The mid-morning sun shone brightly, but its warmth remained soft against the skin as the Sprint Race was set to begin. Luca thought about watching his teammates but decided instead to calm his nerves early by retreating to the locker room deep in their garage. Once there, he turned to his trusty mp3 player, blasting heavy metal music into his ears.
Nodding softly to the hard, vigorous beats, he let the pounding rhythms drown his thoughts.
Curiosity soon got the better of him, and Luca grabbed the draft sheet listing the participating drivers from all twenty teams. A peek at the lineup brought him satisfaction—he spotted the names of Miles and Addams in their respective teams. They were the two racers he intended to outdo today.
He'd heard that Addams had nearly reached F1 last season, only to miss the chance due to some unfortunate circumstances. So, it all came down to the fact that Max Addams was F1 potential already.
The Sprint Race ended just before noon. Even through the loudness of his music, Luca could make out the muffled roar of the now-packed grandstands. He pulled out his earpiece as Ansel and Haas entered the locker room.
As expected, Ansel's face remained neutral and expressionless, just like always, while Haas looked visibly displeased and frustrated. The German angrily tossed his helmet aside before storming out of the locker room through the other door. A crew member quietly picked up the discarded helmet and placed it back where it belonged.
Chill, man. It's just a Sprint Race, Luca mused, watching Haas stomp away in fury. He later found out that Ansel had astonishingly finished first, while Haas had ended up in seventh—a result Ansel bluntly described as "disgraceful."
Luca couldn't help but wonder what Mr. Grant saw in Erik Haas that justified continuing to place the German in Sprint Races. If the goal was to foster improvement, Luca doubted it would happen, considering Haas had been on the team almost as long as Ansel and still wasn't showing progress.
After congratulating Ansel on his victory, Luca apologized for skipping the race and staying in the locker room, listening to 'Master of Puppets' by Metallica. Ansel merely laughed off the apology before starting to undress from his racing suit, preparing to refresh himself for the Featured Race, which was scheduled to begin in two hours.
With little else to do, Luca figured he would wait until Ansel was ready for their personal teammate briefing, after which they'd both suit up for the main race.
To pass the time, Luca switched on his phone and opened the candy game app that Sara had installed for him. He wasn't particularly good at it, but the game's intuitive user interface made it easy to learn.
Surprisingly, he found himself on a winning streak when a familiar figure approached and sat beside him. It was none other than Mr. Grant, his Team Principal.
Luca instantly switched off his phone and yanked out his earpiece. "Sir?"
Mr. Grant cleared his throat as he leaned back against the wall. "Some would call that a crude device," he remarked, glancing at Luca's mp3 player. "We are gradually leaving that age behind."
Luca chuckled, coiling the wire of his earpiece and placing it beside the mp3 player. "Until we do, sir, I'll still make use of it," he replied. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"
"Definitely," Mr. Grant said, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. "It's just a stern reminder of why I personally pushed Mr. Fisher to fund the scouts and send them all the way to Birmingham."
Luca didn't have the nerve to meet Mr. Grant's gaze, so he focused on the metal frame of a locker while the 41-year-old man spoke.
"I can't speak for others, but for me, being a Team Principal isn't just about the numbers, fame, or accolades. Many of us do it because we know the feeling of sitting back on a couch after retirement, watching old clips of the icon we groomed lifting trophies and claiming podiums," Mr. Grant explained.
"Denko Rutherford, one of my drivers last season, now races for Haddock Racing in the main division. I want to groom both Ansel and you the same way. And from what I've seen, you might just make my job easier. Keep it up, Luca. The more you elevate the team, the more secure your place will be in every race."
Luca felt like his mind was slow to process Mr. Grant's words, but the meaning finally clicked at the last second. He turned to glance at the man and started to say, "Thank y—"
But Mr. Grant didn't wait. He stood up abruptly and strode out of the room, his lean figure moving like a shadow. For a moment, Luca wondered if Mr. Grant had once been a driver himself.