On the day of the British Grand Prix. You were standing outside the Mercedes garage, close to George Russell, who was wearing his racing overalls, your hand on his belt, your heart pounding in your throat.

George’s eyes were filled with determination and love. “Just look at me, okay?” The two Mercedes were leading the field: Kimi Antonelli in second, George Russell in third. There were only a few laps left when the wind suddenly changed. At first the flags were flying wilder, then a sharp gust of wind hit, as if nature itself wanted to intervene in the race.

The camera image was shaking, the commentators’ voices faded, and suddenly everything happened in an instant. Kimi’s car skidded, hit the bumpy section of the track, and the car – as if it had jumped out of a nightmare – rose, spun in the air, and then flew more than 100 meters and crashed into the wall.

The impact was so loud that everyone in the audience fell silent. The smoke started to rise the next moment – ​​the car caught fire. And Kimi… didn’t come out.

There was silence on the radio. George didn’t wait. Before anyone could speak, he stopped his car at the side of the track, unbuckled his seatbelts and got out. He started to run. The roar of the cars died down, it was just George and the flaming wreck.

“Kimi!” he shouted as he ran across the track, the security guards tried to stop him, but they couldn’t. You watched him, glued to the monitor.

George got to the wreck. The flames were scorching, but he didn’t care. He tore a fire extinguisher from one of the track guards’ hands and started blowing without hesitation.

Finally, the firefighters arrived, and with George’s help, they managed to get Kimi out of the car. Kimi was unconscious, but alive. George was worried about his young 18-year-old teammate