Formula 1: The GOAT

“Hehehehehehehehe,” Fatih laughed childishly as he moved side to side, enjoying his race win and his championship win. His focus mode had already disappeared the moment he passed through the start-finish line and ended the race.

“And with that, the KF-junior season comes to an end, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight,” he said, showing his feeling and reenacting the future famous end-of-year quote, to edit the final episode of the third season of his “Road to Formula 1” and with it show it show a time-lapse of the season.

Having finally managed to bring the money into his life, he bought many things, from high-quality cameras and other devices to ten GoPro cameras that were already mounted in different areas of the kart, with one of them being mounted under his helmet’s chin, benefiting from the large balast he was using to meet minimum weight allowing him to include all of those without taking a weight penalty. As he was about to enter the pit lane, he raised his hand and waved to the DJI drone carrying a DSLR camera that had been stationary in the sky, recording the whole race, trying to replicate the angle that F1 later applied in their broadcasting starting from 2025.

Money really solved many problems, as he was now only required to spend a few hours a day to bring his ideas to reality. His mother had already hired some of the basic staff that he had requested, including a cameraman who was participating in recording the event for the first time since he was hired, while at the same time, two editors were already working on editing the following episodes after he was done writing their scripts and had shot all the extra footage required.

Having entered the pit lane, he immediately waved at Burak, who was already waiting for him to collect the kart.

Getting out of his kart after stopping a few centimeters from Burak, he hugged him as they celebrated his championship. Then the interviews started, and Ömer, who finished third and lost the championship, had some words to say to Fatih.

“He raced unfairly and pushed me off the track, but he was not punished, so I’m not satisfied with the outcome, and I wouldn’t congratulate the fake champion,” said the not-yet-media-trained Ömer, venting his feelings through the answer, not feeling well at all after having lost the championship in the final race due to what looked to him to be Fatih’s driving style.

“What do you mean by unfair?” Zakir asked, wondering what Ömer’s point of view of the situation was.

As someone who had watched the incident and the replay of it, he and everyone else who saw it all agreed that it was solely Ömer’s mistake, and all Fatih did was not move from the racing line to try and accommodate Ömer’s mistake.

“If it were me who did that, I would have been punished. But since he is being backed by the federation that went as far as to even bend the rules to allow him to participate in the championship starting near mid-season, why would they not support him to win the championship?” Ömer said, repeating what he had heard the adults in his vicinity, at the academy, or even during championship weeks, say when they were talking about Fatih. Even his coach was among them, which in turn warped his view of the situation.

Paired with him losing the championship that he had led from the start in the final race, he was not ready to accept that it was his mistake that ended his championship hopes, not Fatih’s privileged treatment. It wouldn’t have mattered to him, as his mind had already designated Fatih as an enemy, one with powerful backers.

“Ah, looks like our time is over. Thank you for your answers, and good luck in the next season,” Zakir, realizing he was on the verge of destroying a kid’s career if he continued asking these questions, ended the interview there as he prayed for the kid. If what he said had earned him a negative image, it would make his life in motorsports a bit difficult. But since he was talented, it most likely wouldn’t be a problem, though it was a possibility nonetheless.

He then immediately moved to Osman, who had finished P2, not wanting to allow people time to talk about Ömer as he asked his usual opening question.

“Thank you. I know it would have been difficult had it not been in Fatih’s interest to set everything up for me and keep dragging me with him to the P2 finish, and he had shown his pace on the last lap. When I heard from my coach about his ability to drag the driver behind him by slipstreaming them and doing other things, I had thought in my mind that it was because those drivers weren’t capable enough to mount an attack when everything was set for them. But having experienced it through the race, you come to realize that he is the one holding back.

He is keeping just enough distance that you receive maximum benefits from the slipstream, but the distance is too much to cover to mount an overtake, just close enough to give you the illusion of hope that you can overtake him. So you end up pushing more and more, but you are never, ever close enough to mount an attack. It’s a very weird feeling,” Osman answered the question. Having experienced it for the entire race, it was easier than he expected to answer, and he wasn’t selfish enough to not thank Fatih, as he had led him to his first podium of the season.

“Thank you for the very elaborate and clear answer, but can you elaborate on the weird feeling you mentioned?” Zakir asked, wanting more details. Although he had theorized a few times, he had yet to hear about it from those who experienced it since the last time Fatih drove like that was in his first season, and the kids in that category couldn’t explain it well. But that was different for the fourteen-year-olds in this category.

“How should I explain this…” Osman said as he thought for a moment before as if he had a eureka moment, he started explaining it. “It’s like driving while following the ghost car feature in racing games that shows you the best lap time driven in the saved files. The more you try to imitate it, the better results you gain. That’s what it feels like to drive behind him when he is pulling you. All you have to do is repeat what he is doing, brake where he does, turn when he turns, and you find yourself improving on your lap times.”

“Oohh, thank you very much for your detailed explanation, and congratulations on your P2 finish,” Zakir said with a smile of satisfaction on his face, having finally received the final piece of the puzzle that revealed to him what exactly Fatih was doing and how he managed to continuously drag the driver behind him when he needed to.

“I know it is the third time in your career hearing this, but congratulations on winning your championship. It is for the third consecutive season, meaning you have yet to participate in a season and not win the championship in it, other than the KF-Mini category you started this year’s season with before you were moved. But still, my statement stands. How do you feel?”

“Thanks for the congratulations, but it is something I will not get tired of hearing even if it happens twenty times, so don’t hesitate to congratulate me if I continue winning.”

“Will do,” Zakir interjected before leaving the space for Fatih to continue speaking.

“And I’m feeling pretty happy about the outcome. Although it is my second time going to the final race where there was someone else who could win it if things went well for them, this time it was the most exciting one since I was the one chasing the leader, not the one being chased,” Fatih answered with a smile as he imagined what his SP overhaul was going to be.

“What went through your mind when you saw the yellow flags waved a few laps before the end of the race?”

“My heart sank, and I started thinking of ways to keep the situation as is if the yellow flags persisted and the gap we opened was closed, and the field bunched up. If push came to shove, I could have given the lead to Osman in order to defend against Ömer before overtaking Osman on the final lap. But thankfully, I didn’t have to resort to that since it was lifted just as fast as it was waved.”

“Ah, thank you very much, and once again, congratulations on your third championship. I look forward to your career in motorsports. I enjoyed your series very much and look forward to the next episode, despite knowing how things turned out,” Zakir congratulated Fatih, deciding not to ask about the incident between Fatih and Ömer after having seen how Ömer reacted, not wanting to see what Fatih would say in response to Ömer’s accusations or have his hard work of covering for Ömer for his career’s sake go down the drain.

“Thank you very much as well,” Fatih said, walking back to Burak, who was calmly waiting for him with a smile, to wait for the podium ceremony to take place.

….

Rümeysa was standing in the grandstands as she clapped and celebrated Fatih, who was on the podium receiving medal after medal for his many performances, making a repeat of what happened in the last two seasons, where he swept away all of the smaller rewards as well, barring a few.

She turned to her mother, who was with her, and said, “We need to start planning on him going abroad starting next year once he finishes primary school this academic year. He has already reached the ceiling of what he can do here, and he needs more competition, or he will have to remain in this category until he is fifteen.”

It was something that had been on her mind since Fatih’s first championship, and she had worked hard to provide him with challenges while keeping him close to her and not separating from him, but it looked like he now really needed to go abroad to compete.

“So are we moving together, or are you sending him alone?” Güldane asked her daughter, this topic being something they had discussed a lot over the last three years.

“We can afford to go together, so there is no reason not to,” she said, looking as if she had already made up her mind to quit her job and move the family abroad for Fatih’s motorsports career.

“What about Burak?” Güldane asked, not probing regarding her quitting work, knowing it was a difficult decision to make, considering her position in the company and how high she would have climbed should she remain in the position for a few more years.

“I’m still thinking about it. Plus, we have a year to make that decision,” Rümeysa said as she waved at Fatih, who had just found them and started waving at them as his grandmother did the same as well.

“Don’t let the situation stagnate, thinking that a year is long enough and you can take your time,” Güldane said as she patted her shoulders before she added, “Looks like I should add a few more utensils and a new chair in the dining room,” teasing her daughter before she started walking towards the exit to go and pick up Fatih and Burak, who had just finished the ceremonies and everything that kept them at the venue.

Rümeysa didn’t argue with her mother, already tired of her subtle nagging, as she quietly walked behind her. Her mind, which had been made up just a few days ago, started thinking of things she needed to handle before the day of the move arrived. Having made the decision, she wasn’t going to dwell on it and regret it, as she knew it was for the best. Plus, she was now the CEO and the leader of all the companies under Fatih’s ownership.