The moment the five red lights fade, the world tightens to a point. Engines snarl. Tires bite. The air itself seems to tremble. A million dollars worth of machinery explodes forward, and in that heartbeat between stillness and motion, Formula 1 begins again.
“It’s lights out and away we go!” the phrase rings through the air, as it always does, but the race unfolding today isn’t quite the one fans grew up with.
For decades, Formula 1 was about instinct — the split-second courage to brake late, to gamble on grip, to chase a line that numbers couldn’t explain. Two-time
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