Vroom Vroom...

I was never into sports, barring the cricket matches, I watched on TV occasionally. I did know the rules of Cricket; I could identify most of the players, and yes, I followed the superstition of staying rooted to a spot wary of jinxing if the boys in blue in International cricket and the boys in yellow during the IPL hit sixes and fours or got wickets. None of the other sports interested me until now. 

Hubby and I came across the series on Formula 1 on Netflix, and I grudgingly allowed him to watch it. In the initial episodes, I ambled into the kitchen on the pretext of something or the other, checked my mobile unnecessarily, but gradually got pulled into the world of racing. 

Everything was exciting, the cars, the teams, the points accrued by the handsome racing drivers, the gruelling competition that resulted in me swearing and clapping. Knowing nothing about cars and engines other than sitting on the passenger seat and driving my hubby crazy with my back seat driving, it took a while for my tiny brain to grasp the details. I jotted out everything on the memo pad in my mobile. The memo in my mobile holds treasures indeed; perhaps when we meet, I can let you have a glimpse of my mobile. So here I was frantically pausing the TV, noting the drivers' names, the team managers, the owners, the engine used, the soft, medium, compound tyres (oooh, it was too much for my tiny brain to handle, but I persisted😜)the team standings/ratings etc. I had to delete and constantly change some of the data whenever someone resigned or changed teams. 

I almost somersaulted when I saw the advertisement proclaiming the arrival of Formula 1 to Qatar! For the first time!! I called the hubby immediately, although it was a Monday, and forewarned about his back to back meetings. As expected, he declined my call, so I waited for him to complete the meetings and call me back, which he never did. So with simmering enthusiasm, I waited till he reached home and broke the news to him. He promised to check the ticket availability later. The 'later' never happened for a few days until I used up all the weapons in my arsenal. How was it even possible for the husband to forget his wife and her thousand instructions as soon as he steps away from her eyesight? Argh! 

We booked the tickets; he told me the rates and waited to see my reaction. I said go-ahead, never know if we would be able to watch it next time. Yeah, I had changed from the girl who said, "After all, tomorrow is another day!" to "What if there is no tomorrow?" I had completely transformed into thinking like my best half indeed. We had the tickets in hand, my lessons at car racing had ended, and I was ready for the D day. 

 

It was money well spent. I absolutely loved the electric atmosphere of the race. The varied nationalities converged on the race track, wrapping themselves in flags of their favourite drivers and teams. The first two days were practice sessions where the drivers exhibited their manoeuvres on the track. The second session on the second day was the qualifying round for the pole position. Hoots and squeals exploded during this that geared me up on what to expect the next day at the races. 

On the race day, we went early to select the best seats and seated ourselves near the chequered flag post right across the trophy podium. We were surrounded by people dressed in orange; a large group of men and women unfurled a lengthy Belgian flag and tied it in front of the enclosure. These were Max Verstappen's (Belgian born Dutch driver) fans, the Redbull driver currently in the top position closely followed by Lewis Hamilton, the British driver from team Mercedes. Amongst the orange brigade were two black women holding the British flag dressed in black and green supporting Hamilton. The friendly rivalry was a treat to watch. The Belgians carried small flags and distributed them to whoever accepted them. We got it and displayed our passionate support to Max Verstappen. Although inwardly, I was rooting for Hamilton, the first (half) black driver to race in Formula 1.  Just before the race, we had the 'Drivers parade'  where the drivers climbed on an open van,  waved at the crowd and posed for photographs. The van moved slowly across the race track.  Everything began right in front of our seated area, adding my excitement.  

Then the teams commenced getting their vehicles and setting them up according to the pole position. The tyres were kept covered until the last second. The drivers wore helmets and slid into their cars. Colourfully dressed artists convened before the drivers and sang a song accompanied by music -  We race as one - the motto exhibited on the track and the screens everywhere. 

There was this East Asian woman sitting before me who kept googling about the drivers and their numbers. The display board indicated the position of the drivers by the jersey( car) number.  After a while, she stopped googling and asked me for details. The weeks of preparation had paid off and I proudly imparted knowledge.

And then it began.  The roar of the engines, along with the roar of the public, whoa, it was electrifying!  Hamilton maintained the lead, closely followed by Verstappen. The others were miles behind these two. 

"Hamilton won quite effortlessly", I screamed, which did not go well with my hubby; he growled that the Mercedes engine was the reason. I rolled my eyes and clapped in glee while Hamilton lifted the trophy (the Belgian flag stuffed into my handbag.) 

We continued to follow the Saudi race and its highlights on the TV. My husband almost broke the TV when Hamilton won the race again. He was so angry at me as if I was the one racing against Verstappen. The points were equal between Max and Lewis. The final race of the season would be the crucial one. 

I offered an olive branch and promised to support Max Verstappen during the Abu Dhabi Grand pix! Well, my ardent support and prayers aided Max Verstappen to win his first championship trophy. 

All is well now, happy spouse, happy home. 

The next event is the FIFA World Cup, for the first time in a country in the Middle East.  (My football lessons have begun.) Qatar is hosting it from Nov to Dec 2022. 

Welcome, everyone. Come, join the fun.