F1 Driver – Mental Preparation Poem
Here is a poem about how I imagine an F1 driver’s state of mind is, in preparation for a Grand Prix weekend.
There is no time for fear, or superstition
The F1 title is my only mission
I eat, sleep and breathe, dreams of Champagne
I am podium bound in the F1 fast lane
I quietly sit and lay perfectly still
In absolute silence I go through my drill
I close my eyes, so I can envision
My perfect lap with laser precision
I go through the motions and flip through the gears
Tilt my head, as the car corners and steers
Clipping the Apex with the greatest of ease
And fly down the straight like a cool summer breeze
All sectors are purple, P1 on the sheets
As the team clench and grip, the edge of their seats
I’m ready for battle, my nerves are my shield
My car is the weapon, that a shall yield
Free Practice are fun of which there are three
But they’re simply a tease and a formality
Setup the car to get the balance just right
Just as a boxer would lace, their gloves up tight
Qualifying is where, I’ll let it hang out
I believe I’ll get pole, without shadow of doubt
It’s all very critical, to the perfect lap
Tyre pressure, brake bias and all that crap
It is a team sport, but its all down to me
I must be perfect through sectors, one, two and three
Across the line in the fastest time
Even fractions of a second are a massive climb
If I don’t snag pole, I can’t lose my cool
I’ll have to claim victory and do it old-school
Before the lights go out, I’ll plan my attack
I’ll tip toe and weave all over the track
I’ll climb to be P1 methodically
And set fastest lap periodically
Open a gap in the final few laps
As the crowd cheers, then stands and claps
Top step of the podium, as I point to my team
And then I awake…from my Champagne dream
Author: Ernie Black
Twitter: @TheF1Poet
Blog: http://TheF1Poet.wordpress.com
