Among the curves
may have stayed two more laps on the track is sufficient to reach the top. My car crosses the path like a bullet train on its rails, the perfect line, to the maximum in the curves without losing a split. I leave the TV and I headed to the throttle on the main straight ... Endless seconds with the engine at a thousand. I approach the light and think about the miedito stupid to attack me every time I pass by here, the light is falling on me ... how impossible. New lap record. Lights up on the board, is an indication of the team. One more ... more and will come around the pits for tanking and changing tires. I will not fail ... I can not fail. I reach Rettifilo variant, the chicane I ever was hopelessly complicated and now my confidence increases. I enter 340 and go out as at 70, hot on the piano all my red car and the regulations allow me, and leave that life behind Ronnie Peterson presented here in 78. Sink back foot on the accelerator and the flight to the fast corners. The names of Chionio Carlo, Renzo Colombini and Renato Galtrucco come to mind with the terrible motorcycle accident that cost the lives of many years. I'm approaching the next turn hard, like your curves, and go live where Renzo Passolino died in 73 and more adelantito, the only world motorcycling champion Finn Jarno Saarinen, the same year. But I know that the other would not go unscathed ... From 330 to 120 for transit under the Della Roggia variant without any loose tire cost him his life to Paolo Gislimberti or any other commissioner. Concentration ... should not distract.
advance, advances to the limit, go to the limit, so much so that I raise a bit of land out of Lesmo. The temperature of the tires of those arrows of silver must be nearly perfect and I can guess your decision to take advantage of their machines and not be winning position absence of about 15 turns. But my Ferrari is so light with the latest fuel, if I could finish this round, the timer will stop setting a new record in the circuit. Seventh on a third option to enter Ascari ... does the name because the poor Albert died here in 55, with two world titles in tow. I do not want to baptize a corner with my name, but I want to leave my mark on one of your curves, large and so impossible to make for me. A 335 step between the ghosts of the 14 people who died with Wolfgang Von Trips at 61 when he lost control of his Mercedes with his life fighting for the championship, and under a bit of speed and gait, feeling the force of 3.72 G in the dish. Leave behind the noise of the final game of Jochen Rindt, the only world champion posthumously and tighten the throttle to gain entry to the pits ... everything is defined here ... Active
limiter. Are seconds seemed like hours. Having been running like a fiend for more than an hour, my time down at every turn, going to 80 pit road put it all in slow motion to get where I expected my team. Brake and stop with me just as I get old and my hands sweat and nerves. I have to go before them and do not let me pass. I know that their engines have a little more mine and power will be very difficult to pass on track. This is my chance. Blindly trust my mechanics, so I have like 7 seconds to relax before heading out to play me on the track title. I close my eyes when I see a hand about to clean my helmet visor. And I see your eyes, eyes of many colors, so many lashes, his eyes filled with hate and tears once in a while. The car moves a little to the care they give. Within seconds the tires out, worn down to the deactivation, and they fit the tires reserved for the last stop. I hear the sound of air guns by adjusting the center bolt on each wheel and remember the sound of the words I never wanted to hear, your mouth pronouncing them slowly so I can understand, with the feigned innocence of someone who knows what she says but pretends not to kill. As always happens again. What if the heart is already broken and broken again. Clenched fists and I wonder how long it will last since I came into the pits ... How much time has passed since the last time we met? Too ... always too. Whenever I see you and do not show up, looking to spend thousands of excuses about where I could find, I do things that you might like, build bridges, traveled to the moon and write songs just to get your attention. And now to try to be the world champion. But if I win, I can be saying goodbye to my hopes of glory. I open my eyes and I can see in the mirror to the fuel hose to finish fueling. A half smile draws me in the mouth to go back in time to an old gas station. I wonder if it will come tonight to calm me but have spent a lot on my birthday. A promise is a promise. A promise you weigh like a house on the back. I give the signal and put my first one, a smile by one of our private jokes, and it started. I can feel the tension in the air, everyone looks at the door, follow the telemetry data, calculate how much I can not demorar en salir. Yo maldigo al limitador, paso la señal y obligo al motor a rugir y demostrar toda la potencia de sus caballos de fuerza.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Internet Filter Sprint Phone
Mis espejos están llenos del gris y negro de los autos rivales. Los pasé... los pasé en pits... Fue un trabajo perfecto y estoy delante cuando ninguno de nosotros tiene que volver a entrar. No escucho los motores porque el grito de los tifosi se eleva por encima de todo como una victoria frente a los elementos. Ahora sólo tengo que mantenerme, por eso me paso un poco del punto de frenada y mantengo la cuerda para evitar adelantamientos en la chicana, justo donde Hakkinen metió primera en vez de tercera y terminó llorando en el bosque. Bloqueo lo justo y salgo como líder, while the silver arrows have to extremes to keep from bumping into them. That takes away a little time, give me a few meters ahead, more yards, and I do not accommodate traffic on the rubber marks, more traction for me, more speed. The asphalt is a pool, the layout is perfect, perfect for your skin, the curve of your back with long hair that falls and hides. A 305 mph on the curve Biassono should not have time to think about such things. Should not think of the forest that surrounds the circuit, in that other forest is calling me without you knowing. I must concentrate, they left behind, lost too much time avoiding disaster but you can not help them win. Accelerated with tight lips ... you know that's what breaks my lips and not the lack of kisses, as I tried to cheat to get some. More speed and return to the variant Della Roggia, the same sharp turn, as your eyes are closed to me. Shock to the heart ... no more distractions, I say to jump too much on one of the pianos. Accommodating the car, I settle on the seat and I have no fear of returning to step on the accelerator. I no longer see in the mirror, you only see you at every turn, in your car with plates that are not from here, rally car, car that I got to eat you with kisses.
The leaves of some trees come down during the race and they are like spots on the track ... very few spots in comparison with yours. Unceremoniously keep Lesmo speed and accelerated out of each end of the curve. With the heavy car for refueling and tires that have not yet reached the temperature you need, I extend my lead in thousandths tenths being made in each new curve. Opened a gap and I have everything under control, as I thought I had what I feel for you. And what you feel or felt? Here I have what you like about me, what ever you hate, love what you said, you could come to worship, you do not know and you do not care. Am I do not I see? Do not tell me anything? Can not you see? I leave the world aside to listen to what I have to say ... More than 300 only hear the desperate cries of the brake in the curve of Serraglio. Deconcentration, devolution stupid that makes me your mocking laughter. Lock the tires to keep off the tracks, nearer and nearer. The thud reaction leaves me, bouncing from one side to another track, wrecking the Ferrari, your eyes reflected the shock that something bad could happen to me, pieces scattered across the floor, a tire flying into the air and McLaren shun it all and pass, pass me, get ahead and go straight to victory, in my defeat. know that the pain I have goes beyond the physical. You worry if I had broken something, but you laugh it is good, even with a broken heart, without knowing where or who you are, though you do not mind. Game over. My hands are shaking and I leave out the keyboard. I turn off the computer, and full of memories, do as Hakkinen and I will mourn the forest.
The leaves of some trees come down during the race and they are like spots on the track ... very few spots in comparison with yours. Unceremoniously keep Lesmo speed and accelerated out of each end of the curve. With the heavy car for refueling and tires that have not yet reached the temperature you need, I extend my lead in thousandths tenths being made in each new curve. Opened a gap and I have everything under control, as I thought I had what I feel for you. And what you feel or felt? Here I have what you like about me, what ever you hate, love what you said, you could come to worship, you do not know and you do not care. Am I do not I see? Do not tell me anything? Can not you see? I leave the world aside to listen to what I have to say ... More than 300 only hear the desperate cries of the brake in the curve of Serraglio. Deconcentration, devolution stupid that makes me your mocking laughter. Lock the tires to keep off the tracks, nearer and nearer. The thud reaction leaves me, bouncing from one side to another track, wrecking the Ferrari, your eyes reflected the shock that something bad could happen to me, pieces scattered across the floor, a tire flying into the air and McLaren shun it all and pass, pass me, get ahead and go straight to victory, in my defeat. know that the pain I have goes beyond the physical. You worry if I had broken something, but you laugh it is good, even with a broken heart, without knowing where or who you are, though you do not mind. Game over. My hands are shaking and I leave out the keyboard. I turn off the computer, and full of memories, do as Hakkinen and I will mourn the forest.
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