Earlier, in the off-season, we described the Grand Prix of past years, in 2014 we talked about all Ferrari race cars. During 25 years of the site’s life (how time flies), we’ve written about almost all Formula 1 races – and we offer a new genre. And this too is a novel with a sequel.
Last fall, Nikita Savelyev from Yekaterinburg sent the Iron Age racing novella to the editors of F1News.ru. It is written in a simple and very on-topic way. The novella appeared on Liters, received excellent reviews and now Nikita has written a novel about the next generation of racers – circa the second half of the 1950s.
This novel is fictional, you should not look for intersections with historical events. This is a kind of “Racing Thriller”, the first readers of which were the readers of F1News.ru. The cover is drawn by Irina Zelenovskaya.
The second half of the 1950s determined the prestige of the highest class of motorsport for many years. Car companies stopped participating in races and very small British specialist companies came to the fore, simply assembling cars from different components. But as before, the decisive word remained with the riders.
Chapter 1. Red or Green. Part One.
“Last lap” – flashed a sign in the hands of a mechanic. Neville exhaled contentedly and didn’t press the accelerator all the way down the straight. You can relax. Both before the finish of the last stage and in the general classification between all participants in the world championship, he takes second place.
Ahead is only his partner, a South American. The most titled and the best racer of our time. matter. Old man. Patriarch. Neville wasn’t particularly zealous today anyway, the points lead is too big and the team made it clear who should take the championship title. However, this is fair. An experienced partner is simply faster and there is nothing you can do about that.
While Neville was in no rush, the race can’t be said to be a breeze. More than four hundred kilometers covered and three hours behind the wheel. Try, without losing concentration, to race along a winding path in a thin iron structure at an average speed of one hundred and forty kilometers per hour. That is the same.
Neville kept a close eye on the car’s behavior – it would be a shame to relax too much and lose position. But it’s okay. A powerful engine rumbles evenly – the silver miracle of German design thinking works properly. Just a few turns to the finish.
How lucky Neville was with an offer from the sports team of the major German car company Rambert. They recently returned to racing after a forced hiatus, when Germans were banned from sports competitions after the war. Three hundred mechanics, engineers and workers worked tirelessly in the car factory to create the fastest racing car.
The best designers fought day and night to improve the machine. The management of the concern allocated huge amounts of money, regardless of cost, if only the sports department had the best – racers, engines, chassis, specialists. And admittedly, it paid off with wins on the track.
After the finish, Neville briefly congratulated his partner on the next title and stepped aside – let him only feel the weight of the laurel wreath, bask in the rays of glory, accept compliments, hugs and handshakes. This is his day.
And for now, Neville will be content with second place. That is it. Bye. In fact, none of the riders deep down don’t want to get second or third, just first. But in the current situation there is only one plus. The title partner, to put it mildly, is already not young, is on the threshold of sixty and is seriously thinking about ending his career. How much does he have left? Maximum one year. And Neville himself is not yet thirty, his time will come soon. Especially if the German giant continues to crush its rivals in the new season with the tenacity of an asphalt ice rink. The title is literally at your fingertips. Please wait.
In the evening, the restaurant in the Italian city was overcrowded. Celebrated the end of the season. In addition, of course, Rambert’s employees – the main triumphs, the majority of people from the auto racing world considered it necessary to be noticed during the holidays. Here are representatives of the losing teams (just think, we lost – we will win back in the New Year), and motorsport officials (it’s great that everything went smoothly without accidents and scandals), and journalists (why not eat for free), and Italian bigwigs (suddenly it is possible to win a solid jackpot), and all the incomprehensible people. Well, nevermind. The important thing is that everyone is alive and well and the rest, including victories and titles, will follow.
Hot drinks poured out like they came from a cornucopia. Neville did not let go of the glass from their hands, but he did not lose control and found a moment to talk with the director of the Rambert racing division – Gustav Helfrich. Despite his venerable age, the chief remained sharp-witted, and through the years of forced standstill, he did not lose the ability to manage such a complex mechanism as a racing team. And as soon as the management of the concern received approval from the sports federation and gave the green light to participate in the race, Gustav, with the pedantry inherent in the Germans, started a trusted business. And again, countless rivals from the Apennine Peninsula in red cars capitulated to the snow-white beasts. Just like in the second half of the 1930s, when German teams dominated the tracks of pre-war Europe. As if those fifteen years never happened.
– My opinion – we need another pilot. The Italians will do their best to catch up. They have more opportunities to collect information. There are two of us, sometimes three of us, and they declare five people for the race, Marcel whispered in Helfrich’s ear. – The business is of course yours, but I would recommend someone with more experience, we need a racer who knows how to tame our filly.
Gustav looked at Marcel strangely and deftly enough, given his fat figure, got up from his chair:
“Neville, son, let’s go outside for a smoke.”
“I don’t smoke…” Marcel stopped abruptly, not liking the headmaster’s look.
On the street, Helfrich smoked his favorite stinking cigar for a long time, while Neville squirmed impatiently beside him.
“Okay, one day earlier, one day later. I didn’t want to ruin your vacation,’ Gustav sighed.
– What? shouted Marcel.
– You see…
– Talk already. Are you extending my contract?
– We will not…
– Do you want someone who will put more pressure on the master?
– Yes, where did you …
– And vice-versa? What would the master find more comfortable with a slow partner?
– Yeah, that’s not the point.
– Do not pull the rubber! We will?!
– Rambert closes the sports division. We will not participate in the new season. This is the decision of the company’s management. An official announcement is expected in a few days.
Marcel felt sober, now he clearly understood the essence of the phrase – a bolt from the blue.
“But how come … it can’t be … we …” thoughts were feverishly confused and did not want to fit into a coherent structure.
“I’m sorry, boy, but that’s the reality,” Gustav put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
“We are the first in almost every stage, we can’t be beaten,” Neville finally squeezed something sensible.
“That’s exactly the point,” Helfrich nodded. – We spent a huge amount of money and had a really triumphant season. What if the next one is worse? Does the speed drop? It’s a race – anything can happen, you can’t stay on top for long. Our leaders thought it best to go undefeated. This is enough for successful road car sales. That’s the goal of care, and racing is just a means.
“We could have won so much more,” Neville shook his head in astonishment.
– Understand, big bosses think in other categories, to them wins are a line in the budget, a debit-credit. It’s hard for me to blame them for anything, they’re just different.
“What will happen to all of us?” Where will people go?
– What about people? The factory continues to exist – the knowledge gained is used in the production of sports cars. Most employees stay in place. I hope the boys don’t get lost. If desired, constructors can find a place in other teams. I’m going to a well deserved retirement.
What about the pilots? asked Neville angrily. Has anyone thought of us?
“The management of the company has very different concerns,” Gustav sighed softly. – But with your talent, with that baggage of victories and experience that you have earned with us, any team will tear you off with your hands.
“Here, thanks,” Neville scoffed jokingly. – Well, less than a week before the new season, we were satisfied.
“Just don’t boil over.” It’s political, it happens. Do you know how many times in my life I’ve had to deliver bad news to employees? Do you think it’s easy for me? Get in my position.
“Mine would have come back in,” Marcel grumbled.
== Continued tomorrow…
Source: F1 News
I am Christopher Clyde, an experienced journalist and content writer with a passion for sports. I have been writing about Formula 1 news for the past five years and am currently employed as an author at athletistic.com, one of the top sports websites in the US.
