The Act of Writing

Fausto Gresini in his racing days On 23rd February 2021, we lost an icon of motorcycle racing. Fausto Gresini sadly lost his fight against Covid-19 and the entire paddock is worse off for his absence. The man was not only a double World Champion himself, he helped many riders on to achieve their own dreams in Grand Prix racing and I think a legend like that deserves to be honored. So, in tribute, here are the great man's highlights - may he Rest in Peace. Gresini was born in Imola on January 23rd 1961. Of course, coming from an area that boasts one of the greatest race tracks in the world, it was almost pre-destined that the man would become a racer. And what a racer he was. In the 11 years he was actively racing; the man won the 125cc World Title twice - once in 1985 and once in 1987 - both times on Garelli machinery. He also piloted his Garelli bike to claim Vice-Champion in 1986, as well as in 1991 and 1992, following his switch to Honda machinery. Over the course of his career,

Hamilton wins his 7th title Today, February 8th 2021, the news broke that Sir Lewis Hamilton has signed a one year deal to continue racing in Formula One with the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team. This follows on from the 2020 season, where Hamilton equaled the great Michael Schumacher's 7x world championship titles and became the most successful F1 driver ever, with the most race wins of any driver attributed to his name. The 2020 season took place amidst a global pandemic, and because of this, Formula One ran the slogan: We Race As One, designed to take a performative stance of solidarity with the masses struggling through the multiple national lockdowns.  A massive wave of anti-racist sentiment also gripped the world in 2020, following the brutal killing of George Floyd, and Black Lives Matter protests were seen across the world. The We Race As One slogan was quickly co-opted to stand as a message of equality with not just the BLM movement, but as a blanket statement calling for eq

In MotoGP  and F1 you have the best racers in the world. Over the (many) years these championships have raged, fans have been treated to some incredible, heart wrenching, stunning, nails bitten down to the knuckles racing action and they show no sign of letting up any time soon. This is great news obviously, but there are some concerning aspects associated with the sports that should be highlighted, and that is the issue of the funny fast guys. Jack Miller and Daniel Ricciardo are two of the most loved names on the grid: Miller for MotoGP and Ricciardo for F1. Both are incredible racers in their own rights - Miller showing incredible tenacity when in the fight for podium positions and wins and Ricciardo the king of overtaking moves - however, the reason for their popularity seems to have less to do with their racing and more to do with their jokey media friendly personalities. Don't get me wrong. I adore both racers and I have spent a long time watching videos of them joking around

Do you ever experience irrational dread? An all encompassing, ice pit in your gut, vice around your chest feeling that stops you from even daring to move because you're convinced that if you do you're going to trigger something awful, kind of irrational dread? Because this is how I feel every time I use my laptop. I know that sounds very ridiculous; it's just a wedge of plastic, glass and electronic bits (can you tell I'm very IT illiterate?) There's nothing about the object which should trigger any kind of emotional response other than a slight irritation when the Wifi is slow. But the feeling isn't really about my laptop, its just what I've come to associate my laptop with. I finally came to the end of my time in education in September 2020. Up until that point, all I had associated with my laptop (or computers in general) was school or uni work, watching Netflix and YouTube, or occasionally scrolling social media if my phone was dead. For most of my time

Ten minutes until zero.             The bright glint of sunlit steel burns into my eyes, leaving me blinking and temporarily blinded, as the men lift their rifles to their shoulders, the affixed bayonets the cause of the assault on my eyes. The dull silver blades flash spots of tarnished light across the shored up walls of the trench, and to my blurry vision it seems as though a thousand stars have come to grace us with their presence, a token of good luck from the souls of the ancestors.             I can feel it in my bones; we are destined to win this day.             Waves of khaki uniforms undulate haphazardly in the corner of my eye and I find myself blinking against both the spots in my vision and also the burn of unshed tears threatening their imminent arrival.             These men are consummate professionals. They never grumble or complain, no matter the weather or trench conditions. To look at them, calmly spread out across the line, straight-backed and steadfast

Oh my darling. You were my whole world and I was yours. The things I had planned for us to do together, they spanned years, decades, our own little eternity of just you and me.             All that lost time is what hurts me the most.             You and I were going to do so many great things together. I say great, you and I were never going to make headlines, we were just two among billions, going about our daily lives, but even daily lives would have been perfect to me.             I really wish you and I had got to live our boring normal lives.             I love you so much. I know I shouldn’t, especially not now that you’re gone from my life and even the memory of you burns like the brightest star. But how could I forget you, how could I not think about you for even a second?             I only knew you existed for 6 months, and I’m afraid that I only loved you for 4, but that love was so much more intense than anything I’ve ever felt for anyone before. My l