My Formula 1 System-Chapter 484: S3 Austrian Grand Prix

"... we’re still under the hour till lights out here in Spielberg. Final checks are being carried out by our respected teams for this 60-lap race in the middle of noon. And a hundred thousand impatient fans are turning this esteemed venue into a roaring amphitheater...!"

"...And after just one race, the Constructors’ Standings have already taken shape—and my word, do they paint an interesting picture!"

PROVISIONAL CONSTRUCTORS’ CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)

Position | Team | Points

--------------------------------------

1. | Squadra Corse | 26

2. | Trampos Racing | 25

3. | Haddock Racing | 16

4. | Outback Performance | 12

5. | Bueseno Velocità | 10

6. | Nordvind Racing | 6

7. | Iberia Grand Prix | 4

8. | Jackson Racing | 2

9. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 0

10. | Velox Hispania | 0

"...Squadra Corse leads the pack with 26 points, just a single point ahead of Trampos Racing. That’s right—Trampos, the sophomore team, already threatening the reigning champions. And you wonder why there’s tension in that paddock today...."

"...Haddock Racing rounds off the top three with a confident 16, while Outback and Bueseno Velocità sit close behind with 12 and 10 respectively. What’s your thoughts here, Alex?"

"...Yeah, it’s a tight midfield already, isn’t it? Haddock’s 16 points are solid, no doubt they’d be more prolific. But I’m actually more interested in Bueseno Velocità sitting on 10. Considering DiMarco’s out and the chaos they had in Bahrain, that’s a respectable haul. But now with a rookie like Matteo Bianchi stepping in, everything from here is a question mark for the great team..."

"...Nordvind Racing’s got 6 on the board, Iberia Grand Prix follows with 4... and then you’ve got Jackson Racing, last year’s champions, down in 8th with just 2 points. You can bet they’re feeling the sting of that slow start...."

"...the Silver Stallions are in a translational phase whether they’d admit it or not. We can all trace this tumble back to Rennick’s exit, can’t we? Star drivers gone; Rennick, Rodnick. What do they have? Di Renzo and Derstappen, both good, but not the best. Perhaps, we are actually witnessing the fall of a great empire..."

"...Alpine Swiss F1 and Velox Hispania yet to register a point this season—pressure’s on for them. But with Austria’s wild corners and speed stretches, anything can happen today."

"...P1, Antonio Luigi...!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!"

"...P2, Ailbeart Moireach...!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!"

"...P3, Marko Ignatova...!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!"

"...P4, Matteo Bianchi....!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The world seemed to like Matteo a lot more than anyone had expected. His name hadn’t even fully left the announcer’s lips before the crowd erupted louder than they had for Marko and for Moireach and Luigi.

Like an avalanche, the applause for Bianchi was thunderous and deeply collective, as if every grandstand and every spectator regardless of team loyalty, clapped and cheered for him in unified excitement.

In Velocità’s garage, Matteo was still gearing up when he heard it, and his head swelled with a mixture of honor and confidence. He found himself wondering: what if he actually finished in the top three? What if he made the podium in his very first Formula 1 race? Or better yet; what if he won the Austrian Grand Prix, defeating all the star drivers in a spectacle just like Luca did in Bahrain?

Matteo was 22, a year and several months older than Luca, so it made perfect sense for him to reason and fantasize this way. And that, in itself, spoke volumes of how Luca at just 20, was more mentally mature than most of his peers.

[○][○][●][●][●]

Lights out was filled with tension, charged, heavy and quiet all at once. Formula 1 action once again on the last day of February, and to kick things off, all twenty cars purred with anxious eagerness to be unleashed. Fans for the love of it were watching enthusiastically, gamblers followed every movement with clenched fists, and most importantly, those who made billions off the sport were watching with resolute attention.

The race began and the cars launched off, all drivers weaving with the goal being to garner as much points as possible. Team Principals backed into their garages, and engineers warmed their seats, headphones on, their eyes glued to the telemetry with fixed focus.

Trampos, in particular, were gripping their stations with deeper caution than most. It was at this very lights-out moment in Bahrain when their telemetry system had disastrously glitched, leaving both cars blind and vulnerable during the critical opening seconds. That kind of scar wasn’t easy to scrub out, so everyone was extra cautious, even though they had taken all the necessary precautions ahead of this Grand Prix.

Early celebration blessed the German team as Luca fluently snatched P4 from the Italian rookie, Matteo Bianchi. At Turn 1, Matteo was no match for Luca’s prowess; his inexperience was put on great display, but many quickly debated that Luca was too much of a sweaty driver.

Matteo’s throttle management there lacked the composure needed to defend, and Luca, armed with all the skills and attributes he needed, made the pass look effortless.

P4— Luca Rennick ↑

P5— Matteo Bianchi ↓

"...OH RIGHT THERE! RIGHT BEHIND IGNATOVA! LUCA RENNICK MAKES THE MOVE ON MATTEO BIANCHI INTO TURN ONE!"

"...He’s through! He’s through! Clean and clinical just like he always does it...!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!"

[4th Position]

Mr. Finazzi, Velocità’s head Team Principal, shook his head after watching the quick overtake unfold during the lights-out drama. With a clenched jaw, he immediately recognized that Luca’s overtake had instantly aligned Matteo and Damgaard in sequence as the pack officially snaked into the Austrian Grand Prix.

Velocità still armed their Tiered Pursuit as second nature. So, this meant that Matteo would eventually have to relinquish his position to Damgaard. Even though this was logically beneficial, Finazzi and his strategy team understood that such a move would spark an immediate in-team rivalry, especially since Matteo and Damgaard were of the same goddamn age. Both youngsters were cut from the same competitive cloth even though Matteo appeared passive. The more this order was enforced, the quicker the cracks would form in a relationship that was already fragile.

Moreover, Matteo falling behind Damgaard into P6 within just a lap would crush his confidence. Hence, the odds of him crumbling even further by falling to Max Addams, Luis Dreyer, and the rest of the midfield predators saturating the central pack, would rise significantly.

A team order was dispatched via radio to the 22-year-old Italian to give way at the cleanest part of the track possible—likely Turn 8, Turn 9, or Turn 1 of Lap 2—for his fellow 22-year-old teammate. These sections were ideal because they offered clear visibility, ample DRS opportunity, and allowed Damgaard to accelerate cleanly without Matteo needing to heavily decelerate.

Even though Matteo responded in a grounded tone, the experienced engineers on Velocità’s paddock, men who had been in this sport for a long time, could tell he didn’t truly want to obey.

P7— Luis Dreyer ↑

P8— Max Addams ↓

With haste, Dreyer wedged pressure on Jimmy Damgaard by copying his lines, matching his direction, and abruptly feigning moves designed to throw him off balance and break his concentration.

Jimmy’s reaction to these advances from the Outback Spaniard was puerile, and in some way, exposed his own hidden inexperience. Instead of showing stability, sturdiness, and the unshakable strength expected of a Velocità driver, he began to reflect that pressure onto Matteo by ominously filling the rookie’s mirrors as a way of communication, telling him to hurry up.

What was originally planned for Sector 3 or Sector 1 had to be executed much sooner in Sector 2.

Hence, the exchange happened at Turn 5 going into Turn 6. Matteo, sensing the urgency and the fiery breath of Damgaard right behind him, had to hesitate on the accelerator. His RBioL hugged the outer lane smoothly, and Damgaard swept through the inside line without resistance.

"...We’re not even out of the first lap and Bueseno Velocità is already pulling some tactical wonders...!"

"...They’ve reshuffled the order—Damgaard ahead of Bianchi now, and you can tell that was a calculated switch. Bold to do it this early, but it’s Velocità we’re talking about....!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

The pass was completed under clear team orders, because Damgaard was obviously the better driver at this stage. One good thing, however, was that no real tension flared between both drivers. Matteo understood he was still a placeholder, a rookie, and only until he got some podiums or won races could he begin to envision rebelling against team hierarchy.

But as Dreyer surged down the straight toward Turn 10 and snatched P6 with pure pace, Matteo felt the metaphor slap him across the face. Fate was a spontaneous wind, and right now, it wasn’t blowing in his direction like it did during the Qualifiers.

P6— Luis Dreyer ↑

P7— Matteo Bianchi ↓

"...Luis up two spots already! What a start from the man with horns! He’s now in P6 after slicing past Bianchi on the run to Turn 10!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOH!"

"...and Matteo Bianchi... oh dear, he’s dropped from P4 to P7 in just the opening lap. That’s a heavy hit for the rookie who started on the second row. From the highs of qualifying to the harsh wake-up call of race day—welcome to Formula 1."

Mr. Finazzi and his inner circle threw their hands into the air in frustration. Matteo had come into this race with quite the momentum, momentum so high that even strategists who usually knew better than to trust rookies had, for once, placed some faith in him.

They still marked the switch between both drivers as a good call. It was better for Damgaard to be ahead while Matteo struggled to survive in the top 10, which was currently devouring him inch by inch.

[2nd Lap]

"...and in Sector 2 of Lap 2, that team-ordered switch might’ve just been the beginning of Matteo Bianchi’s downfall!"

"...Luis Dreyer’s overtake opened the floodgates and now Max Addams is all over the rookie!"

"...Addams diving down the inside of Turn 6—clean move! Max Addams takes P7! ADDAMS TAKES P7! Matteo’s now lost three places in under two laps. FROM THE FRONT ROW TO THE MIDFIELD MEAT GRINDER..!"

The young man couldn’t keep hold of his own race. He began to succumb to every little offense thrown his way. From Max, to the next vulture, Di Renzo; someone well known for never missing out on opportunities.

Sadly, Matteo let his team down. In the very race that was supposed to cement his name into Formula 1 history, he was already being erased lap by lap and corner by corner.

After crumbling to Di Renzo and the ThunderKat, Matteo believed he had finally found composure and started to hold his own. Now on Lap 3, the speed of the pack had finally reached the values expected of a real F1 contest, especially one at the RBR Circuit, with its high-speed nature and punishing precision.

Matteo had locked onto his Delta times, balanced his ERS deployment manually, and adjusted his brake migration settings to counteract the early oversteer that had cost him dearly in the earlier laps. His tire temperatures had finally entered the optimal window, and the vibrations in his steering wheel began to steady, telling signs that his racecraft was syncing with the machine. The boy had finally entered what many would call the flow.

However, Nyström, the top No. 1 despiser of young rising talents, didn’t even have time for that story. He currently had Derstappen knocking on his door with a second ThunderKat on this same track. If he didn’t break down this fragile door soon enough, Derstappen absolutely would. And this RBR Circuit, with all its flowing sections and harsh exits, was the perfect playground for the JRX-97 to perform crazy double overtakes with minimal resistance.

[Lap 4]

Nyström muttered under his breath after Derstappen failed to make use of DRS on the home straight. He believed he might not be that lucky next time, so he might as well force his way through the rookie in the Red Bull right now.

[>>>

┌————T4┐

T3

|

|

└T2┐

|

<<<<<]

Matteo wobbled on his exit from Turn 3, and Nyström, ever experienced with sharp instincts, darted to the inside line, risking rubbing his Audi up against the Red Bull.

Albert Derstappen instantly spotted Nyström’s goal, and he too was very much invested in further relegating the rookie down the order. He had already been tailing Nyström, nose-to-rear, and the moment Nyström slipped through, Derstappen was ready to sail in right after.

"...Oh! CUT BACK TO SECTOR 1! A warfare between three distinct cars as ELIAS NYSTRÖM COMMITS A BOLD MOVE..!"

P9— Elias Nyström ↑

P10— Matteo Bianchi ↓

All happening within a time frame of just 2.5 seconds.

Matteo’s heart dropped with silent tragedy the moment Nyström capitalized on his blunder. He wanted to cut back inside, but he quickly realized the Swedish veteran had officially claimed the racing line.

"...It’s a severe opening few laps for Bueseno Velocità—Matteo Bianchi has tumbled all the way down to P10..!"

But the worst part? Matteo didn’t even know that Albert Derstappen was right behind Nyström and was also gunning for that same inside overtake, bumper to bumper. Matteo’s racing instincts; not entirely wrong, but sadly uncalibrated, led him to try and shut the door after Nyström passed, hoping to seal the line and prevent further assault.

Sad mistake for him. And sad ambition for Derstappen.

Once Derstappen saw the Red Bull swerve into his path at the zenith of the bottleneck, he instantly knew it was over. The commentators spotted it the very moment it unfolded, spiking their tones in perfect sync with the risen tension. And the crowd erupted to their feet as the crash count of the season ticked up to three.

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