When I was a kid, my parents up and moved from Scotland to Canada.
Just before I got on the plane my grandfather gave me the Corgi James Bond DB5 No.271 and my love of foreign cars was born. It was a long plane ride.
Years later, my mom would shut me up with a bag of wooden clothes pins. I'd spend a lot of time on the floor, designing race tracks and moving each car, one a time through the corners, heading for imaginary glory. At some point I definitely had and loved these bad boys below, and my ever beloved Stromberg Monza electric racetrack, with deep, banked corners.
That's why it would make perfectly good sense that later as an adult, I'd grow up to snub the pretentious, uber-rich, elite world of F1 and buy half a rally car for $1.00 in a strip club. Haha, sadly a true story. That Subaru turned out to fulfill my need for speed until meeting a snow bank and the stubborness of five or six trees. However, when I reflect, I can see everything I love about Formula One.
I love the fact that this is a global sport, full of Rolex wearing personalities with names and languages as exotic as the circuit locations and their mystique. I love the speed, the danger that brings and the split-second, human skill that keeps that combination within tolerances. I love the noise and feel of an F1 car's power. Add to that the incredibly advanced technology, constantly being tweaked for fractions of seconds ....
so basically, my name is Joe and I, like you, love Formula One.
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