Chapter 11: Race Day
Sunday morning arrived with a clear sky over Emmen and a thin layer of dew glistening on the track barriers. Unlike yesterday, the paddock was already alive. Engines fired in rapid bursts, tire carts rolled across the concrete, and voices echoed between trailers. There was no time for slow starts. It was race day.
Alex stood near the kart under the canopy, fastening the strap of his helmet with deliberate care. His suit was zipped, gloves on, visor up. He felt calm—maybe not completely relaxed, but steady. Everything that could be said had already been said.
Victor was crouched beside the kart, tightening the rear axle bolts.
"You start third," he said without looking up. "That's not a disadvantage. That's an opportunity."
Alex nodded.
"You'll be on the inside line into Turn 1. Use it."
Willem and Miriam stood nearby, watching. Miriam gave Alex a quick smile. Willem simply gave a thumbs-up.
The marshal's call came through the paddock speaker.
"Cadet grid—report to pre-race staging!"
Alex lowered his visor.
---
The grid formed slowly. Karts rolled into position behind the pace kart. Alex lined up in third, right behind Sven de Wilde and Daan Jansen. The rumble of engines formed a steady rhythm in his chest.
He glanced sideways at the row beside him. Farid Amini in fourth gave a quick nod. Alex returned it.
The pace kart peeled off. Formation lap.
They weaved down the straights, warmed the tires. Alex flexed his fingers around the wheel. His breathing was even. When they entered the final sector, the karts began to tighten into two clear rows.
He could see the lights above the starting gantry now.
One light.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
---
Lights out.
Lap 1
Alex launched well. Better than Daan. As they charged toward Turn 1, Alex darted to the inside, claiming the racing line. Daan tried to squeeze but backed off at the last second.
From the fencing, Miriam gasped, hand over her mouth. Willem leaned forward, muttering, "Good move… smart move."
Alex slipped into second.
Sven defended immediately into Turn 2. Alex tucked in, following close.
He stayed glued through Turn 3, watching Sven's rear bumper like it was on a string. Behind them, Farid and Daan battled hard, nearly touching wheels.
Victor, standing with his arms crossed near the pit fence, nodded to himself. "He's patient. That's good."
Lap 2
Alex remained in second, studying Sven's lines. Through Turns 4 and 5, he noticed how much curb Sven used. Not reckless—but close.
From behind the fence, another parent whispered to Miriam, "Your boy's sharp. That's not a beginner's move."
"He's only in his second race," Miriam replied, almost apologetically.
The other parent raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? He's got something."
Lap 3
Alex began closing the gap through the middle sector. He tightened his line through Turn 4 and braked just a touch later into Turn 5. The kart responded well, keeping grip without sliding. Each correction built trust.
Victor, still by the fence, murmured to himself, "That's it. Feel the kart. Don't force it."
Sven checked his shoulder twice. He knew Alex was getting closer.
Back on the straight, Willem cheered. "Keep that pressure on him, boy!"
Lap 4
Alex took a slightly wider line through Turn 3 and carried more speed into Turn 4. He gained two kart lengths. He was close enough now to feel Sven's slipstream.
He braked a touch earlier and turned sharper into Turn 5, giving himself a better exit. Not a pass. Not yet. But it set the tone.
From the sidelines, one of the track marshals turned to another. "That Vermeer kid? He's smooth. Looks older than his age."
Lap 5
Now.
Alex dove slightly deeper into Turn 4, let the kart roll wider on exit, and got the run. Down the short chute into Turn 5, he was alongside.
Sven moved to cover.
Too late.
Alex held the inside. Braked late. Turned in hard.
They were nearly wheel to wheel, tires chirping on the limit.
Alex emerged ahead.
The small group of parents near the fence broke into scattered applause. Willem shouted loudest. Miriam had tears in her eyes but was laughing.
"Did you see that?" one of the dads asked. "He passed him clean. That wasn't luck."
"He's got ice in his veins," someone else muttered.
Lap 6
Sven didn't back down. He tucked right behind Alex and tried to counter in Turn 2. Alex defended hard, narrowing his line into Turn 3. Their tires nearly touched.
Victor tapped his knuckles against the metal fence. "Don't over-defend. Breathe. Be clean."
Alex adjusted in Turn 6, staying tight. He didn't overdrive. He forced Sven to take tighter lines where grip was worse.
Lap 7
Sven tapped Alex's bumper at Turn 9. A message. Still here.
Alex didn't flinch. He kept his hands light. He floated through the chicane at Turn 10, still in control.
Victor grinned. "That's my boy."
Lap 8
The pace remained furious. Farid had pulled clear of Daan and was inching closer in third, but not fast enough.
Alex widened his entry into Turn 4, then cut hard into Turn 5, using every inch of rubber. The kart was starting to slide—but he managed it.
Back near the paddock, another team principal turned to Victor. "Where did you find this kid?"
Victor smiled faintly. "He found me."
Lap 9
Alex stayed perfect. Each apex clipped. Each brake point measured. He gave Sven no reason to attack.
Willem had his hands on his head. "Come on, just one more lap. Hold it together."
Lap 10 – Final Lap
The kart felt lighter. Fuel was low. Tires fading.
Sven tried one last lunge into Turn 3.
Alex gave just enough space—but didn't give up the line.
He exited Turn 5 with enough grip to stay in front, defended into Turn 7, and took Turn 9 flawlessly.
Final corner.
He braked late. Smooth input. Early on the throttle.
Straight to the line.
He crossed first.
---
His fist shot into the air as the checkered flag waved.
Cool-down lap. Breathing heavy. Body buzzing.
Back in parc fermé, Victor met him with a proud look and his arms folded.
"Didn't blink," he said.
Alex grinned, still catching his breath. "Not once."
The timing was confirmed on the screen:
Race Results – Top 5:
1. Alex Vermeer
2. Sven de Wilde
3. Farid Amini
4. Daan Jansen
5. Bram Vos
Willem and Miriam were waiting for him at the fence. Miriam laughed through her tears. Willem patted him on the back, speechless.
Among the other parents, the conversation fell silent when his name was announced.
"I heard this is only his second race ever," someone whispered.
"Seriously? Well, he drives like a pro."
Alex slowly took off his helmet.
He had done it again—on a new circuit, against real competition.
Not through luck.
But by racing smart.
And racing real.