What is the most unequal sporting challenge you can imagine?
Heather Mills taking on Maradona at keepy-uppy, perhaps. Or the Truro and District morris men responding to the All Blacks’ haka. Maybe England’s bowlers against India’s batsmen.
These, though, are as nothing compared to an ordinary mortal challenging a Formula One world champion at go-karting. Or at least that is what it felt like when I drove against Mika Hakkinen round the Daytona track (not the one in Florida, this was Milton Keynes). It was a day when the gap between genius and plodder was wider than the Baltic Sea, the day humiliation plumbed new depths. And that was just me trying to squeeze into the kart before the start.
Hakkinen was there to mark the Laureus Foundation’s association with a charity called Trax, which helps children in danger of exclusion from school reconnect with the system through engagement with motorsport. Trax was founded 15 years ago to give the young people of Blackbird Leys in Oxford something more positive to do behind a wheel than turning their estate into a chicane for stolen hatchbacks. Since then, dozens of youngsters have been given the chance to work in the area’s extensive motor industry.
Hakkinen gave Trax’s project manager, Tamsin Jones, a cheque for €100,000, which, as the pound plummeted southwards, was growing more valuable by the day.
“Motor sport is a great educator,” said Hakkinen. “It’s all about team work. A lot of the kids who are involved have problems communicating. Here they can learn to work together, to share tools together.”
To prove his point, the champion was offering the youngsters a series of motoring challenges; there was dismantling a kart in a pit-stop challenge, there was a walk round the track dispensing advice on cornering and then there was the racing. Lots of us had been invited to take him on through the afternoon, including three sporting legends – Boris Becker, Sean Fitzpatrick and Hugo Porta. We were all to drive the same type of vehicle. Unlike Formula One, every kart had standard engine and tyres. Performance out on the track was dependent solely on skill. Which was the problem.
The point about motor racing is that we all think we can drive. We watch Top Gear and reckon we could easily be the star in an ordinary priced car. Certainly Becker fancied himself as a bit of a speed man. His foot was revving on the accelerator pedal with menace long before the green start light flashed. And indeed Becker would probably have been pretty quick had the course consisted of straights. We all would have been. The problem was corners. At the first, for instance, with the track slicked by frost, it was impossible not to skid. Approach it too quickly and your back end spun. Brake too hard and your back end spun. Every single competitor spun every time they went round. Except one. And I’ll leave it to you to guess who that was.
Spinning helplessly, my kart emerged from each corner virtually stationary, meaning I had a standing start for the ensuing straight. Hakkinen on the other hand barely slowed.
To watch him go round was to see a master in action. He would simply skim through a corner, his back wheels apparently glued to the tarmac. Not that I saw too much of him. We took two laps together, with me following him at ever-increasing distance. Then on the third lap he slowed and politely beckoned me forward. I decided there was no way I would allow him to overtake me. I plunged the accelerator to the floor and skidded at the first bend. He whisked past me and then I lost him. Even as the track doubled back on itself I couldn’t see any evidence of him for an entire lap. He was nowhere in sight.
Then I realised he was right behind me, zig-zagging in my shadow, playing up to the spectators. During the time it had taken me to go round the course twice, he had done it three times. Right, I told myself, there is no way he is going to pass me. I gripped the wheel, put my foot down and hit the final corner at a perfect angle, skimming round at real pace. I had him, I thought. Then he overtook with a flourish right on the finishing line, before hurtling off to the pits, leaving me to complete the final lap on my own, skidding to a halt on three of the corners. It was the same for everyone: Becker, Fitzpatrick, he hammered the lot, regardless of their prominence.
“You did well,” Hakkinen said to me afterwards, in the manner of a teacher addressing a slow pupil. It was kind, but frankly compared to the way the champion drove, it was about as accurate as saying West Brom have every chance of winning the Premier League.
Hakkinen, Becker, Fitzpatrick and Porta are ambassadors for the Laureus Sport for Good Foundation, which has raised £15 million for projects to help improve the lives of over 750,000 young people worldwide.
By Telegraph
