Formula 1: The GOAT

While Fatih slept, his mother and grandmother were wide awake, deep in discussion. Güldane had just finished bringing Rümeysa up to date on the details of her meeting with the academy director.

“So, what do you think we should do?” Güldane asked, seeking her daughter’s opinion.

Rümeysa was silent for a moment, digesting the information, her legal mind already processing the various angles. “For now, we don’t make any decisions,” she said finally. “We’ll have conversations with both the academy and Aslan to get the full picture, but we won’t commit to anything. We wait. This will give other academies time to make their own offers, which will give us better leverage in any negotiation.”

She leaned forward, her voice taking on a more strategic tone. “It also buys Fatih time. Time for him to perform again and prove that his first win wasn’t a fluke. The better he performs in the upcoming races, the more his value increases. That will make them want to close a deal as early as possible, afraid that someone else might make an offer we can’t refuse. They’ll be forced to give us a deal that’s closer to their bottom line, with a greater degree of freedom for Fatih.”

Her expression softened slightly as she shifted from lawyer to mother. “We can also use this time to see if there are any signs of him losing interest in the sport, no matter how unlikely that seems. The moment we sign one of these contracts, his career path is locked in for the duration of its term. If he changes his mind, the penalties for breaking contract would be financially crippling. To avoid that, we might have to require him to continue driving, which would be cruel.”

As a lawyer, she needed to secure the most benefits for her client. As a mother, she had to remember that Fatih was just a child, and children can be fickle. Although Fatih had shown an obsessive level of concentration for over a year, she couldn’t ignore the possibility.

“I don’t think he is going to lose interest in karting for a very long time,” Güldane said with the quiet confidence of someone who had raised one child and was now helping raise another. “I know the difference between a temporary interest and a deep-seated passion. Fatih is obsessed with motorsport, and I haven’t seen a single hint of that changing.”

Her mother’s assurance was enough. “Then we’ll start having formal discussions with the academy and with Aslan,” Rümeysa decided, her plan solidifying. “We’ll see how things go as we wait for other offers to use in negotiations.”

“Good,” Güldane said with a warm smile. “It would remove the monetary burden of his hobby from you, leaving you only responsible for the emotional one.”

“But he’ll have the pressure to perform.”

“Only if he knows about it,” Güldane countered with a chuckle, taking a sip of water. “And he can perform perfectly well without that knowledge. Both he and the sponsors want the same thing: to win. He’s already motivated enough.”

Unaware of these high-stakes conversations, Fatih continued his routine for the remainder of the month. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays were for the academy. On the other days, he completed his daily missions, drove his kart in the park, and played with Emir, enjoying the simple life of a child not yet burdened by school. His nights were spent in the Simulation, diligently learning the fundamentals of tire management.

While his life went on without any apparent changes, Rümeysa’s was a whirlwind of meetings and phone calls with different academies, with Aslan, and with others who had reached out to sponsor Fatih. At night, she spent her free time poring over child labor laws, sponsorship contracts, and relevant tax codes.

Fatih, who had already taught himself to read Turkish by correlating the English alphabet with the sounds of Turkish product names, realized what his mother was doing. He saw the stacks of documents and the late nights she was putting in. As a result, he made a conscious effort not to bother her, trying to reduce her stress while she was already doing so much, all while continuing her own demanding job.

In return, he was making steady progress in his training with Apollo. However, due to the sheer volume of information he needed to absorb about tire management, he was still not even halfway through the basics when the end of April arrived. May, his birthday month, had begun, and only one day remained before the second race weekend of the championship, set to take place in Ankara.

Rümeysa, having prepared well in advance, took Fatih and her mother to the Esenler Bus Terminal to begin their journey. She saw no reason to drive for hours when the academy was handling all the equipment transport; all they needed to bring were their clothes.

What Rümeysa didn’t tell Fatih was that for all the parties she was in contact with—regarding sponsorships, scholarships, and other opportunities—this race was crucial. She, and they, were holding off on signing any agreements until after this second weekend was complete. For her, it was about peace of mind and increasing Fatih’s value even further by proving his first win was no fluke. For the sponsors, it was about ensuring they weren’t being duped into backing a one-hit wonder.

Upon their arrival in Ankara, they took a taxi to a hotel they had booked in advance. After a quick dinner, Rümeysa sent Fatih and her mother to their room to rest. Her own night, however, was just beginning. She had meetings scheduled with the representatives who had flown to Ankara specifically for the race weekend and the contracts. The goal was to go through the draft agreements, clarifying terms and making final adjustments, ensuring that by the end of the race weekend, the only thing remaining would be a signature.

Since they had already discussed the broad strokes of the contracts in their previous conversations, the actual changes were minimal. Rümeysa spent the first part of her evening meticulously combing through the documents one last time, her eyes searching for any ambiguous language or hidden clauses. Once satisfied with her own review, she forwarded the finalized drafts to a specialist lawyer she had hired, an expert in sports sponsorship contracts, for a final professional opinion. With her due diligence complete, she finally returned to her room, ready for the crucial day ahead.