Formula One is technical warfare, a nasty affair where hunger is born from despair and where the F1 throne has no apparent heir.
The generals sit along pit wall, their Lieutenants beside them standing tall and the soldiers on circuit for the brawl, coded radio messages make the call that dictate what might befall.
Battles are fought from track to track and from factories round the clock with little to no slack, from dusk into the black of night to the first light at dawn’s early crack.
In dark corners, meetings take place; in a technical arms race where no one is safe and even team mates wear their poker face.
Strategies guarded from rival teams who watch and wait then alter schemes. Covering pit stops and laps off timing screens as though they were planned routines.
It’s a game of smoke and mirrors with secret tests, disguised as promo filming at sponsors requests to avoid attention of the press and obvious rival protests.
Engineers push limits with things like holes in floors, flexi-wings, Coanda exhausts and stiffer springs..all to catch Adrian Newey, who arguably gave Red Bull their wings.
They use short threaded nuts, to gain just fractions, pit stops so fast they’ve become main attractions, quicker even then TV crew reactions, but in terms of on-track action they’re still just distractions.
So many toys now like DRS, KERS is fun when the button is pressed, but it fails to impress the purists that prefer flat out racing over a game of F1 chess.
Rumours swirl about active suspension, ride height settings maybe out of contention, but dare I mention traction control which again has gained some attention?
Home to an island in the north Atlantic, where things get crazy before they get frantic, and the sounds of F1 are simply romantic.
Who’s made the most gains to break the chains that held them back from taking the reins? Who’s got the right fuel in their veins and the sharpest brains? Well that my friends is the answer to a question that unanswered remains.
It may seem cruel as top teams play the fool and midfielders drool. It’s no playground fight behind the school. In F1, he who has the gold makes or breaks the rule.
Even with media doubling as spies, every update is in disguise, away from prying eyes, ready to surprise hoping enough has been done to lead the way to the ultimate F1 prize.
Fans adore the drivers the cars, the action and more as F1 moves from shore to shore, its glitz and glamour and speed galore but behind pit wall the bullets soar and we’re all reminded that all is fair in F1 war.
Written by Ernie Black (The F1 Poet)
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