The worm turned
I woke up this morning and looked out at a cold and bleak autumnal London morning – nothing at all unusual about this on most days. But this was not just any other day. I kept blinking hard and pinching myself as I recollected the events of this most remarkable of weeks. I thought to myself “the world will forever more be different.
On Sunday evening witnessing the dying moments of the Brazilian Grand Prix, along with a few equally anxious individuals, I was staring at a television in utter disbelief and dejection. Moments later I was joining by the assembled company in a massive roar of delight. Lewis Hamilton was the youngest ever Formula One world champion and a black man to boot. Yesterday morning I spent an anxious night watching a television screen with ever improving election result figures. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing until the familiar hunched figure of John McCain hove into view with the incomparable idiot, Sarah Palin, beside him. McCain’s face said it all before he even began his eloquent concession speech: the American public had elected Barack Obama as their president. Wow!
Lewis Hamilton, having played it safe for the entire race and stayed comfortably in fourth place, looked like he would end the dramatic 2008 season a beaten and bitter man. Rain had come down over Sao Paulo towards the end of the race and, rather than assist the rain master, looked like it was about to destroy him. Like most other drivers, Hamilton came in for wet weather tyres and found himself back on track in fifth place. This would have been fine had he not been caught and overtaken by Sebastian Vettel with greater grip in his Toro Rosso. It looked like it was all over as Hamilton desperately tried to chase down Vettel. It was hopeless. The Toro Rosso kept scampering away with no time left in the Grand Prix. Felipe Massa took the chequered flag as the race winner and new world champion and the samba drumbeat rang across an ecstatic Interlagos.
Then, as if he expected all of us to keep resuscitation equipment on our domestic tool boxes, with only one corner left to go, Hamilton got past the Toyota of Timo Glock and promptly took the chequered flag. It had happened. He was World Champion.
The intensity of emotion I still feel cannot be put into words. The impossible has happened. A black man is the Formula One title holder and a black man will soon be occupying the most powerful office in the world.
Hamilton is over a hump. Getting so close to the title once again and failing to win it could well have been too much for the young man. Now, as surely as night follows day other championships are certainly his destiny. There is now good reason for the entire F1 paddock to be very afraid. The black man has arrived.
After this week blackness will no longer be an excuse for failure. It is safe to tell our children that there is nothing they cannot achieve. After all, if the black son of a Kenyan goatherd can become President of the United States of America, what is there left to prove?
For the rest of us, there is this to say: we were alive when it happened.
Gitau
06 November 2008
On Sunday evening witnessing the dying moments of the Brazilian Grand Prix, along with a few equally anxious individuals, I was staring at a television in utter disbelief and dejection. Moments later I was joining by the assembled company in a massive roar of delight. Lewis Hamilton was the youngest ever Formula One world champion and a black man to boot. Yesterday morning I spent an anxious night watching a television screen with ever improving election result figures. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing until the familiar hunched figure of John McCain hove into view with the incomparable idiot, Sarah Palin, beside him. McCain’s face said it all before he even began his eloquent concession speech: the American public had elected Barack Obama as their president. Wow!
Lewis Hamilton, having played it safe for the entire race and stayed comfortably in fourth place, looked like he would end the dramatic 2008 season a beaten and bitter man. Rain had come down over Sao Paulo towards the end of the race and, rather than assist the rain master, looked like it was about to destroy him. Like most other drivers, Hamilton came in for wet weather tyres and found himself back on track in fifth place. This would have been fine had he not been caught and overtaken by Sebastian Vettel with greater grip in his Toro Rosso. It looked like it was all over as Hamilton desperately tried to chase down Vettel. It was hopeless. The Toro Rosso kept scampering away with no time left in the Grand Prix. Felipe Massa took the chequered flag as the race winner and new world champion and the samba drumbeat rang across an ecstatic Interlagos.
Then, as if he expected all of us to keep resuscitation equipment on our domestic tool boxes, with only one corner left to go, Hamilton got past the Toyota of Timo Glock and promptly took the chequered flag. It had happened. He was World Champion.
The intensity of emotion I still feel cannot be put into words. The impossible has happened. A black man is the Formula One title holder and a black man will soon be occupying the most powerful office in the world.
Hamilton is over a hump. Getting so close to the title once again and failing to win it could well have been too much for the young man. Now, as surely as night follows day other championships are certainly his destiny. There is now good reason for the entire F1 paddock to be very afraid. The black man has arrived.
After this week blackness will no longer be an excuse for failure. It is safe to tell our children that there is nothing they cannot achieve. After all, if the black son of a Kenyan goatherd can become President of the United States of America, what is there left to prove?
For the rest of us, there is this to say: we were alive when it happened.
Gitau
06 November 2008
posted by Gitau at 4:19 pm
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