Confessions of a F1 Marshal’s Lonely Soul

Now that the last whistle is blown, last flag waved and even the last message on the observer channel is nothing but mere static, we try to come to grips with real life. The adrenalin rush had fooled us into believing we were on another plane. Is this what an alcoholic or a drug addict feels, the psychedelic ecstasy? Or is it purely the thrill of being alive, being a part of something every motor sport enthusiast dreams of.

The roar of the engines is fading fast but like the mother of a newborn baby, we don't want to let it go. Even as every muscle in our body aches, we try to get used to the peace and quiet of the antiseptic environment of our offices. We try real hard to behave normally, like we used to just 3 days ago but something within us has changed. As I look around the uninspired faces of my colleagues, I want to scream…

“This is not life, this is not we are meant to live.”

And all I am met with is stony indifference of the corporate environment.

My dear fellow marshals, my co-conspirators in various hare brained schemes, my knowing eyes and helping hands - I love you all… you have become a part of my heart. Each moment of the 12 hours that I spent with you every day is a memory I will carry with me forever. I know that we endured 49 degrees of hot sun without a shade, we slept on the hot road, we ate the horribly disgusting food but I also know we came out as stronger individuals. Those were the moments I truly LIVED, not existed but lived. I don’t know how long it will be before we meet again like this and share moments of true delight. Shed our inhibitions and let other human beings into our private space, into our sanctum sanctorum.

When I first met you, I was scared of most of you. You were my first brush with the youth of Bahrain. I harbored the many misconceptions that come with ignorance. If I had met any of you in a shopping mall, my footfalls would have become faster. At our first practice session at the BIC I didn’t even look some of you in the eye. Didn’t try to get to know any of you. By the time we began training with the Australians, I started recognizing your faces. A wave here, a smile there. We started getting familiar. By the time we collected our overalls & uniforms – I knew some names and some nicknames. Finally when the three-day marathon started I knew point 13.3 (originally point 13.6) you were the best of the best.

All the teasing and the flirting evaporated once the races began; the love for the sport transformed each one of us into a professional. Standing for 2 hours in the 52-degree hot sun, without cribbing or losing our concentration was the true test of our resilience. The highlight of the whole event being the Jordan car stopping right opposite our point
(Let me admit before my friends let the cat out of the bag, that I was enjoying the hospitality of a nice boundary rider who was bringing me back from the medical center, so I missed that bit of action).


And now as life begins to fall into that known predictable pattern, I miss getting up at 4.30 to get to Isa town at 5 and see your familiar faces again, I miss your silly jokes that went on non-stop for the next 12 hours. I love all the little eccentricities that made you unique and special. And now that I finally look at myself in the mirror I know something binds us and its not just the rays of the sun that have tanned us a shade darker... it more, much more - its something nameless and faceless but its also something very very strong.