Chapter 25 – First Real Challenge
Chapter 25 – First Real Challenge
Date: Monday, March 1st, 2010
Location: Lelystad – KWM Racing Academy
The classroom smelled faintly of fuel and rubber. Helmets rested on tables, race suits half-zipped, tension hanging in the air like morning fog. Twelve boys sat in two rows, their eyes fixed on the screen at the front. Most were seven or eight. One of them — Alex — had just turned seven last month. And yet, he didn't feel younger.
Victor stood with his arms crossed beside the projector, calm as ever.
"Today's not just another training session," he began. "You'll be doing a ten-lap internal simulation. This isn't about trophies — but it is about proving something."
He clicked to the next slide. A track layout appeared.
"We're using the full outside configuration. Timing is live. Starts are rolling. If you push someone off, you're disqualified. If you get pushed, raise your hand. Clear?"
Several boys nodded. A few exchanged glances. One in the front — blond, tall for his age — leaned sideways and whispered just loud enough for others to hear.
"Let's see if the new kid can keep up."
Alex didn't flinch. He just kept looking at the screen, memorizing every corner. He already knew this layout. Knew where the grip was best. Where the wind hit hardest.
But this was different.
This was his first real test with the older class.
---
09:00 – Preparation Area – Garage 4
The kart rested in the center of the bay — clean, balanced, fuelled. The number 7 on the front panel gleamed under the strip lights.
Alex sat quietly on a folding chair, helmet in his lap. His suit was zipped up to his chest, gloves folded neatly on the seat beside him.
Victor crouched next to the kart, checking tire pressure with quick, practiced hands.
"We made a few changes," he said. "Slightly stiffer rear axle. A touch more front grip. Let me know how it feels in the corners."
Alex nodded.
Victor looked up. "You ready?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked at the kart. The seat. The wheel. The pedals.
Then: "Yes."
Victor stood and handed him the gloves. "Then race your race. Don't try to beat them in lap one. Let it come to you."
Alex pulled on his gloves and smiled slightly. "Like you said — don't chase. Control."
Victor nodded once. "Exactly."
As Alex climbed into the seat and adjusted the belts, he heard the engines in the other garages firing up. The race wasn't official. But it felt like one.
And for him?
It was.
09:15 – Lelystad Kart Circuit – Grid
Twelve karts lined up two-by-two behind the pace kart. Engines murmured, drivers rolled their heads, checking mirrors they didn't have, shifting their weight to stay loose. Helmets down. Visors shut. Eyes forward.
Alex sat in row three — P5 — just behind the blond kid who had spoken in the briefing. The kid glanced back once before the formation lap started. Alex didn't react.
His grip on the wheel tightened once.
Then released.
This was his pace. His kart. His moment.
The pace kart pulled away.
Rolling Start – Lap 1
The green flag dropped — and twelve engines screamed into life.
Alex held his line into Turn 1, boxed in by the two drivers ahead. The circuit was tight here; passing early meant risk. So he waited. Let them jostle.
Into Turn 3, the boy in P2 dove late — too late — and ran wide. Alex tucked into the gap. One down.
He followed the leader group through Turn 6, taking a tighter line than the tall blond in front. Into the braking zone for Turn 7, he faked right — the kid defended — then switched left and slid inside cleanly.
Two down.
By the end of lap 1, Alex was in P3.
---
Lap 2
The front two were fast — older, more experienced. But Alex was catching them, little by little.
He felt the kart underneath him — solid, planted. The stiffer rear gave him more rotation mid-corner, just like Victor said it would.
Turn 4 — slightly late apex. Turn 5 — early throttle.
He gained another tenth.
The leaders started to fight — small errors, defensive lines.
By Turn 9, he was on them.
---
Lap 3
The kid in P2 went defensive into Turn 2 — too tight. Slowed himself mid-corner.
Alex didn't hesitate.
He stayed wider, carried speed, and pulled alongside on exit. Their karts bumped wheels once — no damage — but Alex had the inside for Turn 3.
Clean.
Now only one remained.
---
Lap 4
The leader noticed.
He widened his line in all the braking zones, blocked mid-track, and exited hard onto every straight. But Alex wasn't rushing.
He sat in the tow. Watched. Waited.
At Turn 6, the leader locked up — just slightly.
It was enough.
Alex slid under at Turn 7, firm but fair, and took the lead.
Four laps. From fifth to first.
Victor watched from the pit wall, arms folded, expression unreadable. But inside, he knew:
> He's not chasing anymore. He's reading. He's planning.
---
Lap 5 – 8
Now came the real test.
No one was giving up.
The blond kid who'd started P2 was fighting back from fourth. The former leader was only half a second behind. But Alex drove clean. Focused.
Turn 3 — perfect rotation. Turn 6 — smooth throttle. Turn 9 — no mistakes.
He didn't try to pull away. He just held his line. Made no errors.
The others pushed — and made them.
By lap 8, the gap was a full second.
---
Lap 9
He felt it now — the track. Every bump. Every camber change. His hands moved without thinking.
Victor's setup notes played in the back of his mind:
> "You want the front to bite early, but not too sharp. Smooth inputs. Trust the kart."
He did.
He trusted it all.
---
Lap 10 – Final Lap
No one challenged him.
He crossed the line alone, visor fogged slightly from breath, body still tense — but victorious.
As he pulled into pit lane, the other karts rolled in behind him.
Victor was already waiting.
No words — just a nod.
And Alex knew:
He'd passed the test.
Post-Race – Pit Lane
Alex climbed out of the kart slowly, fingers still curled from tension. He pulled off his helmet and exhaled hard, letting the morning air cool his face.
Victor was waiting just past the weighbridge, arms crossed.
"Not bad," he said flatly.
Alex tilted his head. "Just not bad?"
Victor cracked a smile. "You didn't win on speed alone. You picked them apart. That's different."
One of the older boys — the one Alex passed on lap 4 — walked by and bumped Alex's shoulder lightly with his fist.
"Clean overtake," he muttered. "See you next time."
Alex blinked. He hadn't expected that.
Another boy — the blond from the briefing — came up a moment later, still unzipping his suit. "You're fast, kid. How long've you been driving?"
Alex shrugged. "Little over a year."
The boy whistled. "Alright then."
Victor nodded slightly. "You're earning their respect. That matters."
Alex looked up at him. "Is that more important than winning?"
Victor didn't hesitate. "Right now? Yeah."