Formula 1: The GOAT

”Fancy seeing you here on top again,” Hamilton said once Fatih had gotten out of his car and was done with measuring his weight. He came to a stop next to Hamilton as Charles was currently in the middle of his post-qualifying interview.

”I hope to always end up here after competitive sessions,” Fatih said as he adjusted his mask, while Lewis chuckled at the answer.

”Tomorrow you will be starting next to Max. I hope you will not leave the door open for him, you know?” Lewis joked as he made a motion with his hands of him moving forward to close Max’s door at the race start so that he would have to gain one more position during the race before reaching Hamilton.

”I will if you promise to leave the door open for me,” Fatih answered while chuckling before adjusting the watch he had put on, feeling uncomfortable with its presence.

Unfortunately for him, it was a sponsorship obligation, and he had to put it on and try to make it as visible as possible.

While the two of them were passing the time by joking back and forth, Charles’s interview was over, and Lewis finally moved next as his time came, which took him a few minutes before he was done. Finally, it was time for Fatih to do his interview.

”Fatih Yıldırım, congratulations on another spectacular qualifying from you. How do you feel? Walk us through your final lap,” Johny Herbert, the post-session interviewer, asked Fatih amidst the sparse cheers of the people who were watching the session from the windows of their houses or buildings they could gain access to that faced the track.

”Thank you. As for the lap, I believe we could have done better if we got that final run, but beggars can’t be choosers, so I’m happy with what we managed to get out of it and finding myself starting on the second row.”

”It is unbelievable what I’m about to say, but this P3 is at the moment the worst qualifying result in your career, and you have once again matched what Jacques Villeneuve managed to do in his second race as well.

At the moment, both of you have a pole for your debut race and a P3 for the following race. How do you feel about that, and do you see yourself continuing to compete with his record of six consecutive top-three qualifying positions in the first six races of his career?”

”I mean, being able to emulate that is quite an exciting thing, and I would love to be able to emulate it or even perform beyond what he managed to do. But we have to be realistic regarding the situation.

Monaco was unique as it leveled the machinery and allowed drivers to make a difference. The same for here, as I have benefited massively from Fernando’s slipstream, or else the best we could have done is what Gasly managed to do, which was a P4 at the time.

The following tracks won’t have these equalizer characteristics, and it is there that the current top two teams will be showing why they are fighting for the championship. With them having a total of four cars, beating two of them in qualifying despite the pace difference is going to be a very difficult thing,” Fatih answered the question as he constantly adjusted his mask with his left hand, making sure the watch was visible at every opportunity.

”Unless you move to one of those top two teams, right?” Johny interjected jokingly, also referencing the rumors that, having not been directly addressed, had ended up growing bigger and bigger each passing day.

”Hahahaha, yeah, unless that happens, but that is only a dream,” Fatih said, going along with it while making sure not to acknowledge or deny it directly.

”What do you feel about your chances of securing a podium tomorrow or even going for a race win? Do you think there is an opportunity for that to happen?”

”Well, firstly, overtaking here is possible, so most of the shenanigans I pulled in Monaco can’t be done here. But that is still an opportunity for anything to happen if we take into consideration the safety car and unexpected opportunities that might present themselves...”

....

”Fucking qualifying session,” Max said as he entered the team garage, still furious about the situation he found himself in. He took off his helmet, dropping it on the table, trying to dash back to his room to get out of the racing suit as fast as possible.

He was not happy at all, as he believed that without the red flag, he could have improved his lap and gone for pole position.

He saw this race as an opportunity for him to start at the front and finally take the championship lead from Hamilton by winning it. Throughout the weekend, when he saw the two Mercedes struggling, he believed it was a guaranteed deal, but out of nowhere, a red flag killed that opportunity, and worse of all, he was out-qualified by a rookie from the sister team.

Jos, who was in the garage in the guest attendees’ area, watched in silence, not planning to interrupt his son because he knew that frustration best, and it was better to be left so that it could be channeled tomorrow in the race.

Horner, on the other hand, had pinched the bridge of his nose because he knew the situation between the company and Fatih, which they had planned to reach out to them to sort out ahead of time, now had a chance of becoming true before they could even broach the conversation.

Helmut Marko, on the other hand, was very satisfied with the outcome, though at the same time pet-peeved that the red flag ended the show earlier and didn’t provide the opportunity for the drivers to go full-out, risking everything in the closing stages of the qualifying session. But at the same time, he was feeling a brooding feeling, the same one that Horner was feeling, but even worse, because he believed that there was a chance anyone in the top four could take the win here if they played their cards right and got lucky with a safety car.

”I should talk with Fatih once his press conference is over,” Helmut said to himself, knowing that with Fatih finishing in the top three and with the session being extended thanks to the four red flags that had come out in different sessions, resulting in it finishing late, he was immediately going to head for the press conference, and only then would he have the breathing room to talk.

”When he is done, tell him to come to me. I have something to talk to him about,” he said to his secretary who was next to him.

She only nodded and left, going to look for the press officer who would be the one to report the order to Fatih and make sure he headed to Helmut when he was done with his responsibilities.

...........

”Opening the gap again is something I would love to do, but Max is only on the second row, so he can’t be counted out...”

Hamilton was in the middle of answering the question he was asked, with the press conference itself already in its fifteenth minute since it started.

Fatih had just closed his eyes, nodding his head up and down as he listened and waited for a question that was addressed to him. At the same time, he was wondering if the system was going to deduct SP points from him, considering he was beaten by a single Ferrari. The system mission had designated a 15 SP point deduction if he was out-qualified by both Ferraris, but it said nothing about being beaten by only one.

But while he was in the middle of his train of thought, he heard multiple phones in the room going off with a rain of notifications. Knowing they usually muted their phones and that only specific people could trigger notifications, he felt a slight, unexplainable dread and opened his eyes to see nearly all the reporters looking at their phones, their faces lit by the screens.

Within a few seconds, all of them raised their hands, wanting the moderator to choose them, and it was clear that every one of them was excited by what they had just learned.

When the Dutch news reporter was selected, everyone else showed momentary disappointment before they waited for the question. The reporter skipped even introducing himself and immediately got to the question.

”Fatih, a news article has just come out stating that Red Bull had conspired with the Verstappens to delay your Formula 1 debut as one of the conditions for Verstappen to go ahead with his contract renewal last year, and it was the reason they only placed very little pressure on the FIA when they were requesting your exemption on the minimum age. Do you think it is true, and what do you have to say to that if it is true?” the reporter spoke very fast, as if he believed he was going to be interrupted if he spoke slower, but his tone was filled with excitement as he did so.

”Fuck me!” Eve, Fatih’s press officer, said as she slapped her forehead and lowered her head, having just received the article and read it herself a few seconds ago. Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t interrupt him here, unlike during the interview done in the media pen.

She looked at Fatih, praying that he would look at her so she could give him the cue not to answer the question, but her heart dropped when she saw Fatih frozen there as he looked at the reporter, speechless, as if something had exploded inside his mind.