‘Once upon a time there lived a little boy who had a prodigious talent inherited from his equally gifted father. However while the little boy’s father had been quite a successful Formula One driver when he was younger, he now spent his days tempering his offspring’s teenage strops, making him sit and watch VHS videos of his ego-tripping dad driving an F1 car and telling his son how fucking good he was. Both him and his son, that is. And probably buying him lots of shit, as overbearing parents tend to do.
As the years progressed, the little boy became less little but still managed to somehow look a bit like a foetus; yet despite this Formula One fans and race teams also recognised just how good the little boy was. Especially at taking risks and infuriating older boys in slightly faster, silverer and redder cars who weren’t very happy when the little boy cut in front of them or found room on the track which even they hadn’t noticed. Be they Spanish or German.
Anyway, one day – roughly around the time of the 2018 Mexican GP – the little boy (we’ll call him Max, let’s say) found himself VERY unhappy. So unhappy that his father (we’ll refer to him as Jos, for argument’s sake) had to give his favourite son his comfort blanket the night after qualifying, and literally sing him lullabies where he changed the words to how good he was and how bad his Australian team mate was. Maybe not bad, but extremely naughty at least. And to reiterate just how good he was at driving an F1 car very fast and sometimes on the limits.
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Red Buller…..
You see, the reason for all this comforting and nice words (and borderline slanderous ones aimed in the direction of the other not-so little-ish driver who likes to drink alcohol from his boots when everyone’s looking) was because hot shot, Rickie Ardo had celebrated too wildly after claiming the pole position for the following day’s Mexican GP.
According to the little boy’s furious father, the bad AustraliaMAN had acted like he’d just been crowned World Driver’s Champion, rather than simply claiming top spot on the grid in a South American country that isn’t Brazil. And that nobody can pretend to be World Champion apart from Max and maybe Lewis HamilMAN; who could actually be World Champion if you’re reading this story after the clocks have gone back or forward or something.
“I was not really happy myself, but I spoke to Max before bedtime”, said the very unhappy boy’s very angry father. “I tried to calm him down a bit, but like me he was particularly upset because the car was out of order. But sometimes, like public toilets, F1 cars can be out of order, I guess.”
The little boy’s father – by now so incandescent with rage he took to social media and created a very angry video to demonstrate just how apoplectic he was – added passive-aggressively; “That pole position is nice, but winning is of course much more important.”
The Wheels on Rickie Ardo’s Red Bus Don’t Go Round and Round, Round and Round, Round and Round….
Continuing to describe how inconsolable little Max was that night before the big race, Father Jos (who isn’t a nun, to clarify) went on to say; “He was especially annoyed by missing the pole and by the car, but also by Rickie Ardo.” Who he believed acted inappropriately when learning he was pole-sitter for the big race. But didn’t elaborate on how inappropriate he was or what he did that made him appear inappropriate. Like an inappropriate uncle, but not.
“Max was very angry and greatly exasperated” said his father, “and wanted only one thing, that was winning the race. And some sandwiches with chocolate spread on them. And to watch another half an hour of ‘Cars 3’ before he settled down for the night.”
But that wasn’t the end of the story though, as the very next day dawned in Mexico and with it the start of the big race. Which little Max later went on to win, no doubt spurred on to victory by the words of his father ringing in his ears. The ones which sounded a bit like; “Remember, you’re the best racing driver in the world ever. And Rickie Ardo’s car will mysteriously break down again shortly after the lights go out. Because I had a word with Ginger Spice’s husband and that sinister looking Dr Marko who’s always loitering with intent in dark recesses of the Red Bull garage like a Bond villain.”
And everyone lived happily ever after. Apart from Kimi, who was pretending he was fine with moving to Sauber next year in public, but was secretly internalising dark thoughts.