
Formula One is a sport that I am passionate about. And I don't mean willing to argue my point to the ground, I mean sitting and crying for the best part of an hour when my hero came so close to winning the world championship yesterday, and lost it at the final corner.
I write this because I have never, in my entire life, had so much respect for anyone as I did for Felipe Massa yesterday.
Massa crossed the line and won the race, and in doing so became temporary world champion. As he celebrated in the cockpit, Lewis Hamilton was in sixth position and looking set to lose the title. However, at the final corner of the entire race, Hamilton edged passed Timo Glock to take the fifth place he needed to secure the world championship.
Every Brazilian, Italian and Massa fan went from defeated, to complete ecstasy and then to utter agony, all in the space of 10 minutes. For me, it was one of the worst moments of my entire life. I dread to think how Massa felt.
TV images showed the Brazilian weeping in the cockpit, and in climbing out of the car he looked more disappointed that you can ever imagine. It would have come as no surprise had he decided just to hide in the back of the Ferrari garage and sulk. That's what I would have done.
But Massa didn't. He stood up, faced the crowd, and held his head high. It was at that moment, that I realised that this man, a man so gracious in defeat, has become my all-time Formula 1 hero.
Obviously there are people like Ayrton Senna and Michael Schumacher, who can only be described as heroes, but to me, even if he never wins a world championship, Massa is now the man I have the most respect for in the world.
He has what very few drivers, hell, what very few men have: courtesy. He accepts defeat, he is modest in victory, and every sportsman in the world should aspire to be like him.
If I could grow into a man that could show even the slighest graciousness that Felipe Massa can, I'll know that I have done well as a person.
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