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runariya · 3 months

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Drive to Survive (JJK) • Chapter 6 “Addicts Deny”

pairing: F1driver!Jungkook x female race engineer!reader genre: colleagues2L, formula1!AU, racing!AU, drama, kind of fantasy/cyborg!AU fic rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: denial, denial, denial, unethical thoughts regarding race practice, lil meow makes an appearance, the FIA is sus, Jungkook is sorry, protective Jungkook because that's a warning for and of itself, MC is jealous, a little bit of fluff, but still she's in denial 🙄, a lot of embarrassment, MC is reckless, physical violence, threats, Jungkook has anger issues, slight PTS, a lil 'babe', MC can't face the truth, foul language, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 7.400

🎵 Treasure - JIKJIN 🎵

a/n: okay, I've clearly lied regarding the writing break. Last night I've stayed awake with mini-me on me sleeping (even though we're both down with a high fever but whatever) and so I've spent the night writing away...so yeeeey! double unedited DtS- AND HR-Update 🎉

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to the sport of Formula 1 are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • series masterlist • 07

It's Monday after the race in São Paulo, and you find yourself back at the headquarters, preparing for the triple header ahead: three races in three consecutive weeks. The jet lag nags at the edges of your consciousness, but you push it aside, just as you try to maintain the facade that keeping Jungkook at a distance is easy.

The wreckage of Jungkook's car has arrived this morning at the headquarters as well, and your immediate task is to retrieve the crash data. Specialised crash sensors in the car have recorded crucial information on impact forces, angles, and speeds, which you'll need to analyse to assess the severity of the crash. This data is essential for the mechanics, who must start working immediately to ensure Jungkook's car is ready in four days for the sprint race weekend in Japan. Toto has already informed you that he wants the data discussed in the debriefing in a few hours, adding to your stress level.

As you sit at your desk, your thoughts drift back to the chaotic events of the race. Jungkook's crash and the subsequent confrontation with Mingyu replay in your mind. After the race, Jungkook underwent a thorough physical check, and thankfully, he emerged unscathed. Still, you worry about the potential impact on his performance, which you'll have a chance to evaluate during tomorrow's simulation session. You focus on extracting and compiling the crash data, immersing yourself in the technical details to drown out the lingering anxiety.

Once you finish the report, you print it, gather the papers, and make your way to the garage where the mechanics are already hard at work. The sleek, partially disassembled race cars glint under the bright lights, the smell of grease heavy in the air, and the walls are adorned with various tools and parts, neatly organised yet exuding a sense of controlled chaos. As you enter, you spot one of the lead mechanics, a man you think is named Yoongi, though everyone here calls him Lil Meow. He's hunched over Jungkook's damaged car, his hands deftly manoeuvring the wrench.

"Yoongi," you call out, approaching him with the crash data. "I have the data from Jungkook's crash. The debriefing starts in a bit, so I thought I’ll give it to you in person."

He looks up, nodding as he wipes his hands on a rag. "Thanks. Let's see what we've got."

As Yoongi begins to look over the data, an idea pops into your head. "Yoongi, hypothetically speaking, could a device be ingrained and hidden in a car that sends electromagnetic shockwaves to disturb electrical connections?"

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Hypothetically, it’s possible. It would be against regulations, though. Such a device could emit controlled electromagnetic pulses that interfere with the car's electronics. It'd be tricky to detect, but if someone knew what to look for, they might catch it."

You hum thoughtfully, processing this information. "Interesting. Thanks, Yoongi."

Leaving the garage, you mull over the idea. If Mingyu plays unfair, then perhaps you could too. The notion of using such a device to either disrupt his car or his body gnaws at your professional integrity, but the stakes are high, and the competitive edge is razor-thin. Returning to your office, you decide to keep the idea in your back pocket, a potential ace up your sleeve. The balance between ethical boundaries and the fierce desire to win is a delicate one, and you can only hope you navigate it wisely in the intense weeks to come.

In the cool, dimly lit conference room at the team headquarters, you stand beside Toto and the engineering team, surrounded by screens displaying telemetry data and race footage. The atmosphere is tense as you begin the debrief with a detailed analysis of Jungkook's crash with Mingyu. On the large central screen, you replay the critical moments leading up to the incident, dissecting every move and decision.

"From what we've reviewed," you start, gesturing towards the screen where the onboard footage plays in slow motion, "it appears Jungkook attempted an overtake on Mingyu into Turn 4. Mingyu defended aggressively, causing contact that sent Jungkook off track."

Toto nods, his expression grave. "We need to understand why Jungkook chose that moment. Was there a miscommunication on strategy? Please replay the radio communication."

You do as said, the communications during the incident echoing through the room, emphasising Jungkook's frustration with Mingyu's defensive manoeuvres. "There were clear frustrations expressed over the radio. Jungkook felt he had the pace and opportunity, but Mingyu closed the door aggressively."

Jungkook, seated among the team, clears his throat. "I believed I could make the move stick. I saw an opportunity and went for it. In hindsight, perhaps I should have waited for a better chance."

Toto interjects, "We need to ensure incidents like this don't repeat. You have to trust the team's strategy and communicate effectively."

You move to the next slide, focusing on the damage assessment. "Fortunately, the crash data indicates that the impact was primarily absorbed by the car body. The chassis integrity remains intact, which is crucial."

The chief engineer chimes in, "The initial assessment from the mechanics confirms that the car will be fully operational for the upcoming race weekend. We'll conduct thorough checks to ensure all systems are optimal."

Toto nods, turning towards Jungkook, he address him directly. "Jungkook, let's discuss your perspective on the incident and your decision-making process during that crucial moment."

Jungkook meets your gaze briefly. "I thought I had the pace to pass Mingyu. I misjudged his defence. I'll be more patient in the future."

You nod towards Toto, appreciating Jungkook’s honesty. "We'll work on refining those split-second decisions."

Transitioning to the broader strategy review, you outline the team's approach to the race. "Our strategy focused on tyre management and capitalising on the race pace. We opted for a two-stop strategy which, despite the incident, allowed us to compete for points until Jungkook's retirement."

Next the chief engineer addresses you, being the engineer responsible for Jungkook's car. "What feedback did Jungkook provide post-incident regarding car handling and performance?"

You respond, “Jungkook reported minor understeer pre-crash, but overall, the car's balance was manageable. Our focus now is ensuring all components are thoroughly checked and aligned."

Shifting focus, Toto then assesses the impact on team morale while looking around. "Given the incident, how are team dynamics holding up?"

Jungkook sighs, "It's frustrating, but we're a resilient team. We'll learn from this and come back stronger."

Turning to the positive, Joongki acknowledges George's stunning victory. "On a brighter note, George's performance was exceptional. Starting from P5 and mastering the changing track conditions to clinch victory showcases our team's capabilities."

The room lightens up with smiles and nods. George beams from his seat. "Thanks, everyone. It was a team effort all the way."

You hastily write down Toto’s next words. "But again back to the crash. To prevent similar incidents, we'll reinforce communication protocols and strategic decision-making. Clear rules of engagement between drivers and rivals will be crucial moving forward."

"Now, regarding the FIA's decision regarding the fight after the race," Toto proceeds, his tone turning almost cheerful. "Thanks to my and Christian Horner's intervention and negotiation with them, Jungkook and Mingyu won't face a ban from the next race. However, there will be a fine to be paid. This is a lesson for both drivers."

There are visible sighs of relief, with shoulders relaxing and expressions softening around the table. Engineers exchange nods of approval, while a few team members even allow themselves small, cautious smiles. Spontaneous clapping breaks out, followed by a few cheers, as the gravity of Toto's influence in this decision is silently acknowledged by the team.

Jungkook glances again to you, as if you see your reaction but averts his eyes to Toto. “Thanks, boss.”

Toto stands, offering final words of encouragement. "Let's channel today's lessons into preparation for the next race. We have a championship to contend for."

As the debrief wraps up, you hastily make your way back to your office, focused and no time for chatter.

The rest of the day passes in a blink of an eye, the quiet hum of the building’s A/C underscoring the solitude of your surroundings. You’re once again the last one working, or so you think. As you step exhausted into the lobby, ready to call an Uber to take you back to your hotel, you come across Namjoon and Jungkook standing by the entrance. Namjoon offers a quick goodbye, leaving you and Jungkook enveloped in an awkward silence.

Jungkook breaks the stillness. "How are you getting home?"

You shrug, trying to keep your tone nonchalant. "I’m taking an Uber, like always."

He frowns, clearly displeased. "It’s too late for you to go alone. I don’t want you walking around at night by yourself."

You roll your eyes, the familiarity of arguing with Jungkook bubbling up. "Jungkook, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Thank you very much."

"No. And before you start, it’s not about patronising you," he insists, his voice dropping to a softer, more earnest tone. "It's about me genuinely fearing for your safety. I can't bear the thought of something happening to you."

You sigh, frustration and a hint of something warmer mingling in your chest. "I'll be fine, Jungkook. It's just a short ride. I’ve done it for weeks at this point.”

He shakes his head, his eyes locking onto yours, the determination evident. "If something did happen to you, I'd never forgive myself. Your parents would say the same. It’s just not worth it.”

Reluctantly, you concede, the weight of his words settling over you. "Fine," you mutter, "but only because you're being so insistent."

You follow behind Jungkook as he leads the way to his car, the contrast between his towering frame and your smaller stature evident, even though you navigate in heels. Despite the footwear, you feel shielded by his presence, almost invisible to anyone who might approach. His athletic build is unmistakable—broad neck, shoulders, and arms hinting at strength, while his small waist is hidden under an oversized gym shirt. The scent lingering around him is enticing, a mix of sweat and something distinctly masculine, wrapping you in its comforting familiarity.

Reaching his car, Jungkook opens the passenger door, gestures for you to enter first, a small smile gracing his lips, his eyes warm and reassuring. You settle into the passenger seat as he takes his place beside you, the warmth of his presence contrasting with the cool leather of the car seats. The interior smells faintly of his cologne and detergent, bringing you an unexpected sense of comfort. As he starts the engine, you feel a surprising peace wash over you, his presence beside you calming your nerves. You try to swallow down all these feelings, focusing on the passing city lights outside the window.

"Do you have plans tonight?" you ask, breaking the silence, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Jungkook snorts, a bitter laugh escaping him. "With who?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at his profile. "Any of your flirts?"

He glances at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you realised what was behind the flirting.”

“What’s there to realise?” Your tone is more snarky than you intended and you regret opening your mouth at all. But Jungkook seems not to mind it at all.

"For years, flirting has been my self-defence mechanism. Those women who fall for it are usually gold diggers. I know to keep my distance from them…like Trish."

You nod, absorbing his honesty and the subtle repulsion after he said her name, but he isn’t finished.

"The ones who are disgusted by my flirting," he continues, "are the genuine ones. Those are the ones I can befriend. Or more," he adds in a whisper, his eyes flicking to you before quickly returning to the road.

“Oh…” Your breath catches, but you can't find the words to respond. His admission leaves you speechless, and you can feel your heart thudding in your chest. Jungkook takes a deep breath, the tension in the car thickening.

"No matter what happens on track," he says softly, "I’ll never disobey your orders again. I’m sorry. We’re a team, and I need you to know that I understand that now."

Before you can react, he reaches over and takes your hand, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles. The simple touch sends a jolt through you, making you gulp while warmth spreads from your hand to your entire body. You feel a mixture of emotions—comfort, confusion, and a deep-seated denial of what this could mean. You tell yourself it’s just a friendly gesture, nothing more.

You don’t protest, your hand remaining in his as he continues driving. The silence between you shifts, becoming something more intimate and reassuring. You can feel his strength and sincerity through the connection of your hands, and despite your best efforts to deny it, a part of you feels a deep sense of belonging.

As the car glides through the streets, Jungkook’s touch remains steady, anchoring you to this moment. His presence, his warmth, and his words blend into a quiet promise of trust and solidarity. You tell yourself it’s just the circumstances, you being lonely, the late hour, the emotional weekend behind you—but in the back of your little heart, you know it’s more. And for now, you let yourself enjoy the fleeting peace that comes from simply being beside him, his hand in yours.

After Jungkook dropped you off at your hotel last night, you couldn't sleep all night. You kept overthinking the car ride, replaying every moment in your mind. Yet, you told yourself that the sleeplessness was due to your jet lag and not because of Jungkook.

The race simulation room you're in this morning is a high-tech haven within your team's headquarters where you'll spend the next few hours. The walls are adorned with monitors displaying data streams and circuit maps of the Suzuka International Racing Course in Japan. The vibration of machinery and the occasional click of keyboards form the backdrop to your team's focused atmosphere.

Jungkook is seated in the futuristic simulator, which replicates the cockpit of his Formula 1 car. The simulator's three large screens wrap around him, providing a near-360-degree view of the track. He’s fully suited up, helmet on, and hands gripping the steering wheel with the intensity of an actual race. His focus is tangible, his eyes darting from the virtual track to the display on his steering wheel, which shows telemetry data in real-time.

You stand at the control station, a complex array of monitors and control panels before you. Each screen shows a different aspect of the car's performance: speed, gear selection, engine temperature, tyre wear, and countless other parameters that will inform the team's strategy for the upcoming race in Japan. Your headset is on, allowing seamless communication with Jungkook and the rest of the engineering team.

“Okay, Jungkook, we’re ready to start the first run,” you say, your voice steady and clear through the radio. “Let’s focus on getting a clean lap to gather baseline data.”

Jungkook nods, and you watch as he navigates the simulator's controls. The car roars to life on the screen, and he accelerates down the virtual pit lane and onto the track. You keep an eye on the various readouts, watching how the car behaves through the corners and straights of Suzuka's iconic layout.

As Jungkook takes on the first set of S-curves, you notice slight oversteer. “You’re doing great, Jungkook. Let’s try to manage the oversteer through the Esses. Adjust your throttle input a bit earlier.”

“Got it,” he replies, his voice calm yet focused.

Lap after lap, you gather critical data. Tyre temperatures rise and fall, fuel consumption rates adjust, and the balance of the car shifts as Jungkook fine-tunes his driving lines and braking points. Each piece of data feeds into the computer models that will help predict how the car will perform in the actual race.

“Alright, let’s try a few different setups now,” you suggest after a series of consistent laps. “We’ll start with adjusting the front wing angle to see if we can get more downforce.”

You signal to one of the engineers, who quickly inputs the new configuration into the simulator. Jungkook waits patiently, using the brief pause to take a sip of water.

“Okay, new setup is loaded. Let’s see how this feels,” you inform him.

Jungkook nods and restarts his run. Immediately, you notice the car’s behaviour changing through the corners. “How’s the balance now?” you ask.

“Feels better, more responsive at the front. But I’m getting a bit of oversteer in the hairpin,” Jungkook reports.

“Copy that. We’ll try adjusting the rear suspension next,” you respond, making notes on your tablet.

The session continues, each adjustment bringing you closer to the optimal setup. You guide Jungkook through various configurations, each one providing valuable insights. The simulator’s feedback is so realistic that it’s almost like being on the actual track.

“Let’s do a race simulation now,” you announce after a while. “We need to see how the car behaves over a longer stint.”

Jungkook prepares himself, taking a deep breath and settling into a rhythm. The laps roll by, each one providing a wealth of data. Tyre degradation, fuel usage, and lap times are all meticulously logged. You communicate with him constantly, advising on tyre management and fuel-saving techniques.

“Pace is looking good, Jungkook. Keep it steady,” you encourage as he maintains a consistent lap time.

The simulation runs smoothly, and after a predetermined number of laps, you call him back into the virtual pit lane. “Great job, Jungkook. That was a solid stint. We’ve got a lot of good data to work with.”

Jungkook exits the simulator, removing his helmet and wiping the sweat from his brow. A sight you appreciate even in a professional setting. He joins you at the control station, where the team is already analysing the data.

“Let’s review the telemetry,” you say, pulling up the graphs and charts on the central monitor. “We can see here that the tyre wear was pretty consistent, but we need to look into the slight drop in pace during the middle stint.”

Jungkook leans in, his scent hitting you square in the face as he examines the data with you. Flashbacks of yesterday running wild in your mind. “I felt a bit of a drop in grip around lap ten. Could be the tyre temps spiking.”

You nod, trying to snap back to the present while you highlight the corresponding data points. “Yes, the front-left tyre temperature was higher than expected. We might need to tweak the camber settings.”

The debrief continues, with Jungkook providing invaluable feedback on how the car felt at different points of the simulation. You discuss potential adjustments, comparing them with the data gathered to formulate the best strategy for the race weekend.

As the session wraps up, you give Jungkook a pat on the back. “Excellent work today. We’ve got a lot to go on for Japan.”

“Thanks, it felt good. Looking forward to the weekend,” Jungkook replies with a smile.

You watch as he heads out, already thinking about the next steps. The data from today’s session will be critical in fine-tuning the car for the unique demands of the Suzuka circuit. You and the team will spend the next two days poring over every detail, ensuring that Jungkook has the best possible car for the race.

The room gradually empties, the noise of activity dying down. You sit back for a moment, reflecting on the day’s progress and Jungkook’s magnetic pull. Even though he sometimes feels like the sun you can't stop orbiting, there's still work to be done. With Jungkook’s skill and the data you’ve gathered, you would feel confident about the upcoming race weekend, if there wasn’t Mingyu.

As you power down the equipment and gather your notes, you can’t help but feel a sense of excitement. The race in Japan is just around the corner, and with every data point analysed, you’re one step closer to a successful race weekend.

Making your way up the floors to your office, you stop by the kitchenette to fetch a coffee after the sleepless night. The day ahead isn’t over yet, and you need a boost to keep going. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the small room as you pour yourself a cup. Just as you’re about to head to your office with your coffee in hand, Namjoon approaches with a smile.

"Hey, good morning," he greets you warmly.

"Good morning, Namjoon," you reply, returning his smile.

"Got a minute?" he asks, his tone friendly yet a bit hesitant.

"Sure, what’s up?" you respond, curious about what he wants to discuss.

He clears his throat and begins, "I wanted to clarify something about the first day we met. I’m sure you heard what Jungkook said as you were leaving."

Intrigued, you nod and encourage him to continue. "Go on."

"Well," Namjoon says, a bit awkwardly, "I wasn’t looking at your butt. I was actually looking at your posture. Your left shoulder seems to sag a little bit. Do you wear your purse on that side?"

A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you realise you had misinterpreted the situation. You thought he was checking you out. "Yes, you're right," you admit, feeling your cheeks heat up. "I do carry my purse on that side."

Namjoon nods, seemingly relieved. "Would you like to do a little workout for it? I’ve got an hour until I’m scheduled with Jungkook."

You ponder for a moment, but the idea of a break sounds perfect given your level of stress and tiredness. "Sure, why not," you agree.

Soon, you find yourself in your gym clothes, which you keep in your office for moments like this. You follow Namjoon to the team’s gym, a well-equipped space designed for quick yet effective workouts. Namjoon starts guiding you through a series of exercises meant to correct your posture and strengthen your shoulder.

As you move through the exercises, Namjoon breaks the silence. "By the way, you and Jungkook don’t have to worry about me. I’m gay and dating George."

You’re taken aback, not because of his disclosure but because it confirms he noticed your earlier embarrassment. "Oh, um, thank you for sharing that," you stammer, then quickly clarify, "But just to be clear, the relationship between Jungkook and me is purely professional."

Namjoon gives you a knowing look. "I don’t believe you," he says with a chuckle. "Jungkook talks about you all the time. You’re his favourite topic of conversation. He always brings up how you first met when you were teenagers and how you couldn’t stand him."

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Embarrassment, confusion, and a hint of something else you don’t want to place. "Really?" you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

"Yes, really," Namjoon continues. "He admires you in a way that’s more than professional. And I can see it in the way you look at him, too. It’s mutual."

You deny it again, "Namjoon, it’s not like that." But internally, you’re struggling with the truth of his words. Memories of late-night strategy sessions, the way Jungkook's eyes light up when he talks about racing, and the fluttering in your stomach every time you see him after a race flash through your mind.

Namjoon doesn’t press further. Instead, he focuses on guiding you through the next set of exercises, his demeanour still friendly but more subdued. "Just think about it," he says finally, offering a gentle smile.

You tease, “George, huh?”

Now it’s Namjoon’s turn to blush. “Yeah, it’s still fresh,” he admits, looking slightly embarrassed. “We’re at the stage of getting to know each other. Please keep it secret for now.”

You nod, a playful smile on your lips. “Your secret’s safe with me. But if you need any advice, you know where not to find me,” you say, masking your own embarrassment.

Namjoon laughs, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll manage. Just don’t spread it around.”

“Of course not,” you reply, still smiling. “But if I see you sneaking off, I’ll know who you’re talking to.”

Namjoon chuckles again, the tension easing.

You finish the workout feeling more relaxed physically but with your mind in turmoil. As you change back into your work clothes and head to your office, you replay Namjoon’s words over and over. You know there’s some truth to what he said, but admitting it, even to yourself, feels like opening a door you’re not ready to walk through.

The day moves on, filled with meetings and data analysis, but Namjoon's words linger in the back of your mind. Every interaction with Jungkook feels charged with a new awareness. You catch yourself watching him a little too closely, analysing every smile, every glance.

Later, as you work late into the evening, Jungkook stops by your office. "Hey, I wanted to go over some of the simulation data with you," he says, his voice as casual as ever.

"Sure, come in," you reply, your heart beating a little faster.

As you discuss the data, you find yourself distracted by the way he leans in, his focus on the screen, the small gestures that seem so familiar yet newly significant. You wonder if he feels it too, this strange tension that Namjoon has made you so aware of.

"I'm heading home in an hour. Will you be done by then? I can drive you home," Jungkook offers.

You look up at him, seeing the hope in his eyes, and can only hum in response.

"Great. I'll meet you at the lobby entrance," Jungkook says, standing up with a gentle smile that you reciprocate without thinking.

When Jungkook finally leaves, you sit back in your chair, staring at the door. You know you need to confront these feelings, but for now, you bury them deep, focusing on your work. The race in Japan is just days away, and you can’t afford distractions.

But as the hour ticks by and the office grows quiet, you can’t help but wonder what might happen if you allowed yourself to acknowledge the truth. Namjoon's words echo in your mind, and for the first time, you consider the possibility that your relationship with Jungkook could be something more than professional.

But for now, you pack up and push the thoughts aside as you head to the elevator, Jungkook already waiting for you with the same smile that leaves you breathless.

Friday evening in Japan is eerily quiet at the paddock. The day's training session had gone well, the team managing to make final adjustments that promised a successful qualifying later that day. However, a strategic error in tyre management—a responsibility that fell squarely on your shoulders—left Jungkook in P3 during the qualifying session. The sense of disappointment still lingers as you step out into the darkness, determined to salvage the weekend by any means necessary.

The Red Bull garage looms ahead, bathed in dim, ambient light that casts long, eerie shadows. Each step you take echoes softly in the stillness of the night, your heartbeat a frantic drum in your chest. Fear and determination war within you, a volatile cocktail that drives you forward. The vast expanse of the garage stretches out before you, empty and silent, offering the perfect opportunity for your second solo mission. You move swiftly, your movements fluid and precise, slipping inside like a ghost. Your eyes dart around, frantic, scanning every nook and cranny for any sign of Mingyu or his team. The air is thick with tension, but as you search, you find the space blissfully clear of any presence. With a quiet sigh of relief, you head straight for Mingyu's gear, the objective of your desire. The silence around you feels both a blessing and a curse, heightening your senses and making every sound seem louder than it is. You remain on high alert, fully aware that discovery could mean serious consequences for both you and the team.

Carefully, you pull out your phone, the cool metal a reassuring weight in your trembling hand. You activate the camera, its bright light slicing through the darkness and casting sharp, eerie shadows that dance over the metallic knobs embedded in the fabric. Each click of the shutter feels like a small victory, highlighting the unusual and illicit modifications better than the pictures you’ve taken weeks before. The knobs glint under the stark light, their presence a silent testament to your growing suspicions. Encouraged by your discovery, you delve deeper into the search, your breath quickening as you rummage through more gear, adrenaline high in your veins. To your dismay and confirmation, you find similar knobs embedded in his right racing boot. The sight sends a chill down your spine, a cold reminder of the dangerous game you're playing. But the thrill of uncovering the truth fuels your resolve, and you focus intently on documenting the evidence, pushing fear to the back of your mind.

Just as you're about to snap another picture of the racing boot, a strong hand clamps down on your shoulder, wrenching you around with a force that knocks the breath out of you. Your heart leaps into your throat as you come face-to-face with Mingyu. His eyes blaze with anger and suspicion, his imposing frame casting a shadow over you and filling the garage with an oppressive presence. His tall and buff build swallows you whole and blocks out the dim light, making you feel small and vulnerable.

"What’s a little bird like you doing here?" he snarls, his voice a dangerous, low rumble that sends a fresh wave of fear coursing through you. The menace in his tone is unmistakable, and you can feel your body tense up, every instinct screaming at you to run.

You open your mouth to respond, but no sound comes out. Your vocal cords feel paralysed by the sheer panic rising within you. As Mingyu steps closer, his towering frame becomes even more intimidating, forcing you to instinctively back away. Your hands tremble uncontrollably, making it hard to keep your phone steady, and a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead, trickling down your temples. "I... I was just..." you stammer, but the words catch in your throat, refusing to form coherent sentences. The weight of the situation presses down on you, making it hard to think or react rationally.

Mingyu's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing and unforgiving. He steps even closer, closing the gap between you with a menacing determination. You keep backing up, your steps frantic and unsteady, until you find yourself at the very edge of the garage. The cool night air brushes against your back, offering a stark contrast to the oppressive heat radiating from Mingyu's anger. "Tell me, what exactly are you doing here?" he demands, his voice a dangerous growl. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and grabs your neck, the pressure firm and unyielding. You gasp for breath, your hands instinctively flying up to grasp his wrist in a futile attempt to loosen his grip. The fear coursing through your body now is overwhelming, drowning out any semblance of bravery you thought you had.

Regret floods your mind like a tidal wave, threatening to drown you in its intensity. You curse yourself for embarking on this dangerous mission alone, for underestimating the risks and overestimating your ability to handle them. Thoughts of Jungkook, your team, and the potential consequences of your actions swirl in a chaotic storm within your head. What if you don't get out of this situation unharmed? The fear is almost paralysing, making it hard to focus on anything but the desperate hope that somehow, someone will come to your rescue. The reality of your vulnerability hits you hard, and you can't help but feel a deep sense of despair and helplessness.

Mingyu's grip tightens, the pressure on your neck intensifying as you see the rage boiling over in his eyes. "Answer me!" he growls, his voice a harsh, guttural sound that shakes you to your core. He shakes you slightly, his grip unrelenting. The world starts to blur at the edges, your vision narrowing as lightheadedness takes over. You feel your strength ebbing away when, suddenly, a voice cuts through the oppressive tension.

"Hey! What’s going on here?" Taehyung's voice slices through the air, sharp and authoritative. Mingyu's head snaps in Taehyung's direction, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. Relief floods through you, a lifeline amidst your mounting fear. Taehyung strides toward you with purpose, his eyes immediately locking onto Mingyu's hand around your neck, the protective fire in his gaze unmistakable.

Mingyu releases you abruptly, and you stumble back, gasping for air as you clutch your sore neck. "She was trespassing," Mingyu snaps, pointing a condemning finger at you. "Spying. That’s against regulations."

Taehyung steps between you and Mingyu, his stance solid and unyielding. "All I saw was a man assaulting a woman. You might want to reconsider your actions," he says, his tone icy and eyes never wavering from Mingyu's face. The tension crackles like electricity, a standoff between the two men that hangs in the air.

Mingyu's eyes flash with unrestrained anger, but he takes a reluctant step back. "This isn't over," he warns, jabbing a finger in your direction one last time before turning on his heel and vanishing into the shadows of the night.

Taehyung turns to you, his face softening with concern. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice now gentle, a stark contrast to the sharpness it held moments before.

You nod slowly, still rubbing your neck where Mingyu's fingers had left their mark. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks to you," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

"We need to report this to the FIA," Taehyung insists firmly. "Mingyu physically assaulted you. This can't go unaddressed."

"I'm not sure," you reply hesitantly, the thought of further exposure daunting. But Taehyung’s unwavering resolve cuts through your doubt.

"It's the best course of action," he says, his tone brooking no argument. "And we won't say a word about what you were doing before Mingyu showed up."

You sigh, a mixture of resignation and acceptance washing over you. Knowing he's right, you agree. "Okay. We'll report it. But what were you doing here, anyway?"

A small, wry smile tugs at Taehyung's lips. "I had the same idea as you. But you beat me to it," he admits, a hint of admiration in his voice.

As you and Taehyung leave the paddock, the night air cool against your flushed skin, you glance at him, a new worry gnawing at you. "Promise me you won't tell Jungkook about this," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung frowns and glances at your neck. "I’m afraid I won’t have to, it’s quite unmistakable."

The two of you walk side by side, the night’s events casting a long shadow. Mingyu's warning echoes in your ears, a constant reminder of the stakes involved.

Back at the hotel, you part ways with Taehyung, thanking him again for his help. Alone in your room, you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the pictures on your phone. The evidence you’ve gathered is significant, but it has come at a cost. You hope that tomorrow will bring clarity and that you'll find a way to move forward without further jeopardising yourself or the team.

Sleep doesn't come easily that night. The memory of Mingyu's hands around your neck haunts you, and the weight of your decisions presses heavily on your mind. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, you feel a flicker of determination. This fight isn't over, and you’re more committed than ever to seeing it through.

“___, could you please follow me?” Toto steps in front of you, blocking your view of a raging Jungkook, who is stomping his way toward you through the paddock on this Saturday morning before the sprint qualifying begins.

You glance up at Toto, his face passive and pale, and nod. “Yes, boss.”

Following him to the back room of the garage, you notice two representatives from the FIA and Taehyung sitting by the table, clearly waiting for Toto and you.

“What’s going…” Jungkook had clearly followed you but his presence and voice are cut off as Toto, unimpressed, closes the door in his face.

“Please take a seat,” one of the representatives says, thick with an Italian accent. Your nerves flare up, but Taehyung’s reassuring smile eases them a little.

“We heard that a driver had physically harassed and injured you. Is that true?” the same representative continues emotionless.

You glance again at Taehyung, who nods, his warm smile still in place, giving you the reassurance you need. “Yes.”

“Could you name the driver who harassed you and what he did?” the other representative asks then.

Last night flashes in your mind, the fear returning momentarily as you fiddle with your thumbs. “It was Park Mingyu. He choked me.”

Both representatives note your answer down, nodding before standing up.

“Thank you very much for your statement. If it’s not a bother, could we take a picture of your neck?”

You reach up, feeling the slight swelling on your neck. The bruises, shimmering in red, green, and blue at some spots, are a reminder of the aggression you faced. Each tender spot under your fingers feels as if Mingyu's grip is still there, the phantom pressure of his hand lingering around your throat. A shiver runs down your spine, and you gulp, realising the importance of this evidence. It must be documented meticulously to ensure there’s no doubt about what happened. The thought of the photographs being taken, capturing your vulnerability and the violence inflicted upon you, makes you uneasy, but you know it's necessary. “Sure,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

After the pictures are taken, the representatives thank you and exit the room. Almost immediately, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to peek into the room, his anxious eyes scanning for you. You realise he must have been waiting outside the entire time. The door closes softly behind them, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. Now, you're alone with Taehyung and Toto. The room feels smaller, more intimate, with just the three of you. Taehyung stands quietly beside you, his presence a comforting reassurance, while Toto's gaze remains steady and composed, though you can sense the undercurrent of worry in his eyes. The gravity of the situation hangs in the air, making the room feel even more charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Toto says, his tone distant as he speaks. “And I appreciate your assistance.” He adds, turning briefly to acknowledge Taehyung. “It’s unusual for a rival team to intervene like this.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Taehyung waves his hand around, still smiling at you as if knowing you need this more than ever.

“Are you good to work?” Toto asks you.

“Yes, boss,” you reply, telling the truth.

"Good," Toto murmurs, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "Make sure to stick close to the team from now on, alright?"

"Yes, boss. I'll keep close," you reply, though Toto's shift in demeanour leaves you feeling unsettled.

"Good, good," Toto repeats, his voice trailing off slightly as he heads out the door. There's a visible tension in his movements, contrasting his usual composed self.

Jungkook strides purposefully into the room just as Toto makes his exit, his gaze flicking from you to your neck and then to Taehyung with a mixture of concern and anger etched on his features. His steps are quick, his posture tense as he points an accusatory finger at Taehyung. "What did you do to her?!" The words are sharp, laden with worry and protectiveness.

Taehyung responds with a laugh, raising his hands in a placating gesture while you move to stand in front of him, hoping to diffuse Jungkook's escalating emotions. "I saved Miss Dangerous here," Taehyung explains calmly, his tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. "Mingyu's the one who hurt her."

Jungkook's brow furrows as he processes the information, the tension in the room palpable as both you and Taehyung attempt to calm him down. You speak softly, explaining what happened and reassuring him that you're alright, urging him not to confront Mingyu in anger.

Later, as the sprint qualifying session is about to start, news spread through the paddock like wildfire. Teams and media alike learn of Mingyu's ban from the weekend's events, the result of his repeated violations of regulations, specifically for his assault on you. The atmosphere at the Suzuka Course is a mix of relief and lingering tension, with whispers of the incident circulating among team personnel and journalists alike, punctuated by murmurs of support and solidarity from your colleagues.

Race day arrives on Sunday, and the paddock is clamouring with media for statements about Mingyu's ban and the incident involving you. Toto steps in, shielding you from the press frenzy, urging you to focus on the impending race while he handles the public relations.

Watching his interview on the pit wall through a nearby screen, you feel grateful for a boss like him. He speaks confidently to the reporter, highlighting your skills as one of the most talented race engineers across all teams. Toto emphasises the importance of protecting women in a sport where they are still a rarity, citing the FIA's response as evidence of their commitment to a safe work environment.

Just as you start to settle into the seat, Jungkook startles you by placing his large hands on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” He squeezes your shoulders lightly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” You smile at him, your voice quiet.

“You ready for the race?” Jungkook shifts to beside you, leaning against the pit wall with crossed arms. He’s already in his black gear, fitting his body perfectly.

With a playful grin, you counter “It’s you who needs to be ready.”

“We’re are team. Aren’t we, babe?”

You blush at his playful persona but laugh along, realising how much you've missed his relaxed and humorous side. As the anticipation builds, you feel a sense of optimism washing over you, hoping that everything is finally starting to align positively.

The race unfolds spectacularly, the anticipation building with each lap as Jungkook skilfully navigates the track. As the final lap approaches, Jungkook's dominance is undeniable. You with the pit crew, glued to their monitors, erupt in unison cheers as Jungkook crosses the finish line in first place. The shouts reverberate through the paddock, faces full of elation and pride for the team's achievement.

With George closely following in second place, the team's success is complete. The pit lane becomes a stage of jubilation as Jungkook's car rolls to a stop, surrounded by cheering mechanics and team members. They hoist him and George onto their shoulders, their exuberance contagious as they celebrate their victory. The air is filled with high-fives, hugs, and congratulatory shouts.

Standing at the back of the crowd, you fix your gaze on Jungkook amidst the post-race celebrations. His figure stands out, exuding triumph and relief, yet there's a subtle hint of something unresolved in his expression. You observe him scanning the crowd, his eyes searching earnestly as if seeking something beyond the victory itself. Your heart races with conflicting emotions, wanting desperately to catch his attention without uttering a word.

Finally, his gaze meets yours, a brief moment that feels like an eternity. In that instance, his smile lights up like the sun itself, mirroring the warmth that spreads across your own face. The connection is fleeting yet profound, a shared acknowledgment that transcends words.

Suddenly, the realisation hits you like a thunderclap. Your expression falls rapidly, hands pausing mid-clap, the color draining from your face.

Jungkook notices the shift in your demeanour, his brow furrowing in concern, but before he can react, you pivot abruptly, heart pounding as you retreat from the scene as fast as you can.

Your only destination being away from him.

01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • series masterlist • 07

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @jksusawife

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gurizpacks · 1 year

Note

oi poderia fazer icon e headers do james rodriguez com blusa do são paulo as fotos está no instagram dele do são paulo?

aqui, meu bem /nah

like ou (c) jogodoamor

#james rodriguez headers #james rodriguez #icons james rodriguez

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justforbooks · 2 years

Photo

Pelé, who has died aged 82 after suffering from cancer, is widely regarded as the greatest footballer the game has ever seen. He was the only player to have won the World Cup three times, and perhaps the most remarkable aspect of his long career was that he reached his apotheosis so early, and on the world’s biggest stage. He was 17 when he played for Brazil in the 1958 World Cup finals in Sweden, scoring six goals in their last three games – the winner in the quarter-final, a hat-trick in the semi-final and two in the final – his confidence and stature growing palpably with every game.

Almost two decades later he came out of retirement and made the almost unthinkable decision of signing for New York Cosmos. For all its wealth, the US was then a pauper of the football world, and it was Pelé who helped introduce Americans to “soccer”. His first game was televised in 22 countries, and the pitch, more dirt than grass, had to be spray-painted green for the watching world.

Pelé’s fame began to grow almost from the moment he made his dramatic entrance in the World Cup as the youngest footballer to play in the tournament (and still the youngest to have scored a hat-trick, or to have appeared and scored in a final). Although he missed the first two games of the 1958 tournament through injury, senior members of the Brazil squad urged the manager to play both Pelé and the right-winger Garrincha in the final group match against the Soviet Union. Unleashing these two players against the Soviets kickstarted the Brazilian campaign. Both hit the post in the first intoxicating three minutes of the match and Brazil played with a virtuosity that heralded their arrival as the dominant, irresistible force in world football.

When Brazil reached the final and beat Sweden, the hosts, 5-2, Pelé stole the show, his two goals an illustration of the ability that set him apart from all other footballers. The first was a breathtaking piece of skill; he controlled the ball on his chest, chipped it back over his head and then ran around the flummoxed defender and volleyed it into the net. For the second, he soared above his marker before making a perfectly placed header.

Pelé was blessed with a blend of supreme athleticism, skill and tactical vision. He could run 100m in 11 seconds, shoot with either foot and outjump the tallest defenders. His sheer physicality and turn of speed were electrifying as he homed in on goal, outsprinting or simply charging through defences while managing to keep the ball under close control. But, unusually for such a prolific goalscorer, he could also be a team player. While he was still a teenager, wealthy Italian clubs attempted to lure him away from Brazil, offering a then unheard-of $1m to his club, Santos FC, for his signature. But in 1961, the Brazilian president Jânio Quadros declared Pelé a “non-exportable national treasure”, ensuring that he remained at the club for almost two decades.

He was born Edson Arantes do Nascimento in the village of Três Corações in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais, the son of Celeste and João Ramos. The boy was named after the inventor Thomas Edison, though his parents misspelt the name. The origin of Pelé, the nickname he picked up as a young boy, is something of a mystery, but its novelty and simplicity – easy to pronounce in any language (he complained it sounded like babytalk in Portuguese) – would add to his aura as his career advanced.

His father, known as Dondinho, was a gifted footballer and in the hope of a final shot at glory took the family to Bauru, a railway town in São Paulo state. A knee injury put an end to his sports career and the family slipped into poverty. From the age of seven, Pelé worked part-time as a shoeshine boy. Celeste was adamant her son would not follow in João’s footsteps, but by the time he was a teenager, scouts from the big clubs in Rio and São Paulo were knocking at the door.

Waldemar de Brito, a scout and former footballer who appeared in the 1934 World Cup, finally persuaded his mother to let him have a trial for Santos. De Brito took Pelé under his wing, and when they arrived in Santos, the port city for the booming industrial and coffee-producing state of São Paulo, he declared the 15-year-old was going to be “the greatest football player in the world”.

Santos was a small but ambitious provincial club when Pelé made his debut in 1956, and he was instrumental in transforming it into a national and then international force. In 1957, his first full season as a professional, in which he also won his first international cap, he was the top scorer in the São Paulo state championship. The following year the team scored 143 goals in 38 games to win the title, Pelé scoring 58 times – a record that still stands – and a remarkable 75 goals in all competitions in the calendar year, a world record that stood until 1972. By the 1960s the team was one of the most successful in the world, earning the nickname the Santásticos as they won eight more state championships, six Brazilian championships, two Copas Libertadores (South American championships) and two Intercontinental Cups.

Keen to cash in on Pelé’s box office appeal – and pay his astronomical salary – Santos embarked on a relentless schedule of exhibition matches in dozens of countries across four continents. Their star attraction was contractually obliged to play everywhere they went, so by the time Pelé appeared in his second World Cup, in Chile in 1962, he had played an exhausting 426 games and scored 488 goals in matches for club and country. He arrived with a groin injury, which flared up in Brazil’s second game and ruled him out of the rest of the tournament, though Brazil, led by an inspirational Garrincha, went on to win their second successive World Cup.

Worse followed four years later at the 1966 World Cup in England, when Bulgarian and Portuguese defenders repeatedly hacked Pelé down at the knees. He limped out of the tournament and, angered at the lack of protection from referees, vowed that he had played his last World Cup. Four years later, acutely aware of his place in history and with a point to prove, he had changed his mind. Chastened, the Brazil squad trained for the tournament for three months to deal with an increasingly physical European game and the altitude and intense heat of Mexico. Pelé was the only survivor of the victorious 1958 squad but he was joined by a new generation of gifted players, including Tostão, Rivelino, Jairzinho, Gerson and his Santos teammate Carlos Alberto.

The 1970 World Cup was the first to be watched live by a global television audience. It was also the first to be broadcast in colour, and in the brilliant Mexican sunshine the gold shirts and cobalt blue shorts of Brazil dazzled the watching world. They won the tournament for the third time – beating Italy 4-1 in the final – by playing football of such imagination and thrilling execution that it is regarded as one of the high-water marks in the history of sport. Their swaggering, distinctly Brazilian futebol arte proved that it was possible to win by playing with joyful exuberance, and Pelé was the most potent symbol of this sporting celebration. After 1970 he was probably the most famous man in world sport, with only Muhammad Ali as instantly recognisable and universally idolised.

He played five more games for Brazil and continued with Santos for another four years, but declined to come out of international retirement for the 1974 World Cup. Brazil’s manager, Mario Zagallo, had lost the nucleus of his glorious 1970 team and implored Pelé to change his mind, but the player realised that, as well as being past his peak, he was a far more lucrative asset off the field.

At this point in his life, money had become more pressing than football. As the result of bad judgment and dubious advice, he twice lost his fortune and was almost made bankrupt. One reason Santos were able to keep him for so long was their willingness to bail him out, on very favourable terms, after his business collapsed.

He played his last game for the club in October 1974 but, with financial clouds still hanging over him, he came out of retirement a few months later after receiving an offer he simply could not refuse. To the astonishment of football fans, particularly in Brazil, he went to play for New York Cosmos in the fledgling North American Soccer League (NASL). They would pay him $7m for three years as a player, plus another three as a “goodwill ambassador”.

As well as a salary that would make him the highest-paid sportsman in the world, he was also tempted by the offer of a new challenge laid down by the Cosmos manager, Clive Toye, perhaps one that suited a footballer past his peak: “I told him don’t go to Italy, don’t go to Spain, all you can do is win a championship. Come to the US and you can win a country.”

And so it proved: Pelé and the Cosmos were a perfect fit. The astonishing skill that had beguiled football fans in almost every country in the world was a revelation to a new American audience, and he loved the razzmatazz of the NASL – his easy charm was a gift to sports marketing men who were selling, in effect, a brand new product.

Over three seasons he scored 65 goals in 111 games for the Cosmos, and led them to the 1977 American championship. The team became a huge commercial presence and regularly sold out their 60,000-seater stadium – unthinkable before his arrival. His last game came in October 1977, an exhibition match in New York between his two clubs, Santos and Cosmos, broadcast to dozens of countries, in which he played one half for each side, and scored his last goal, his 1,283rd in 1,367 games. Those figures are remarkable in themselves, but the fact that more than 500 of those games were friendlies played all over the world is testament to his popularity and box office appeal.

When he retired for a second time, the winning smile and goodwill that had won over American sports fans became his stock in trade, and he went on to act as a highly paid roving ambassador for a number of organisations, from Fifa and the United Nations to Mastercard and Pepsi. He even headed a health campaign for erectile dysfunction awareness. Wherever he went, he was received like royalty.

Though never a member of a political party, he was appointed Brazil’s minister of sport in 1995, serving until 1998, the year the lei Pelé (Pele’s law) was passed by congress. Its noble aim was to clean up the country’s notoriously chaotic and corrupt football bodies and give greater freedom of movement to players, though the bill was watered down before and after its promulgation.

In 1999 he was named athlete of the century by the International Olympic Committee (even though he had never appeared at an Olympic Games) and a year later (jointly with Diego Maradona) Fifa player of the century. He was vice-president of Santos and made honorary president of the revamped New York Cosmos in 2010. His honorary titles in many different countries included an honorary knighthood in the UK (1997).

Pelé’s first two marriages ended in divorce. In 2016 he married his third wife, Marcia Cibele Aoki. She survives him, along with two daughters, Kelly Cristina and Jennifer, and a son, Édson, from his first marriage, to Rosemeri Cholbi; twins, Joshua and Celeste, from his second marriage, to Assíria Lemos; and a daughter, Flávia Kurtz, from an earlier relationship. He did not acknowledge his daughter Sandra, from a relationship with Anizia Machado, even after she won a paternity case. They never met and she died in 2006.

🔔 Pelé (Edson Arantes do Nascimento), footballer, born 23 October 1940; died 29 December 2022

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Pelé #Edson Arantes do Nascimento #in memoriam

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f1 · 1 year

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Formula E reveals record calendar for 2024 but three venues are to be confirmed | 2024 Formula E season

Formula E has revealed its provisional calendar for the 2024 season, with 17 races taking place in 13 urban locations across the globe. Three of those venues are yet to be determined, while the planned addition of Tokyo still awaits confirmation from the Japanese motorsport federation. If all the races go ahead, it will be the longest FE season ever. FE has been working for several years on adding a race in Tokyo, and major progress was made last October when an agreement was signed for a race to take place. It gained local political support as part of a zero-emissions initiative in the city, and the track will use “roads around the Tokyo Big Sight convention centre on the Tokyo Bay waterfront”. Two demonstration runs of FE cars in Japan’s capital city took place in 2015 and 2016. There were reports another demo would take place ahead of the Tokyo joining the calendar next season. Should it receive ASN approval, then Tokyo’s race will be the seventh of the season and will run on 30th March, 2024. After assuming the season-opener slot for this year, Mexico City will kick the action off again for the championship’s 10th season next January, with a Diriyah double-header taking place at night time later in the month. February’s two rounds have no location next to their race dates. Following those the series will head to Sao Paolo for a second time in mid-March. The Brazilian city was first supposed to host FE back in 2018, but the race was postponed into the next season and then cancelled before finally taking place this year. Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free After Tokyo, FE heads to Europe for a double-header in Rome, a race in Monaco then another double-header in Berlin. There is another ‘TBD’ slot on the calendar after that, then the season concludes with trips to Jakarta and Portland in June and then a London double-header in July. FE says it is in “advanced discussions with a range of potential host cities” for the yet to be determined rounds, with the indication that all of the candidates would be new locations for FE rather than returning venues such as Hyderabad and Cape Town which are included in this year’s calendar. Alberto Longo, FE’s chief officer, explained the logic behind the series’ venue selections for 2024: “The season 10 calendar represents our ongoing mission to create a dynamic schedule of new cities hosting races for the first or second time like Tokyo, São Paulo and Portland alongside established hosts like Berlin, Rome, London, Monaco, Diriyah and now Jakarta.” The FE grid will continue to consist of 11 teams for next season, which will be the second using the ‘Gen3’ car. If all 17 races take place it will be a new record for the series, which held 16 races last season and is scheduled to do so again this year. This article will be updated Formula E Browse all Formula E articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

#F1 #Formula E reveals record calendar for 2024 but three venues are to be confirmed | 2024 Formula E season #Formula 1

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iconspfc · 11 months

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#são paulo #são paulo fc #spfc #são paulo headers #headers são paulo #são paulo fc headers #headers são paulo fc #spfc headers #headers spfc #headers

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whileiamdying · 2 years

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Pelé, the Global Face of Soccer, Dies at 82

Pelé, who was declared a national treasure in his native Brazil, achieved worldwide celebrity and helped popularize the sport in the United States.

Born Edson Arantes do Nascimento, Pelé was a formative 20th-century sports figure who was revered as a national treasure in his native Brazil. He was known for popularizing soccer in the United States, and citing it as a tool for connecting people worldwide.CreditCredit...Associated Press

By Lawrie Mifflin Dec. 29, 2022

Pelé, one of soccer’s greatest players and a transformative figure in 20th-century sports who achieved a level of global celebrity few athletes have known, died on Thursday in São Paulo. He was 82.

His death was confirmed by his manager, Joe Fraga. The Hospital Israelita Albert Einstein in São Paulo said the cause was multiple organ failure, the result of the progression of colon cancer.

Pelé had been receiving treatment for cancer in recent years, and he entered the hospital several weeks ago for treatment of a variety of health issues, including a respiratory infection.

A national hero in his native Brazil, Pelé was beloved around the world — by the very poor, among whom he was raised; the very rich, in whose circles he traveled; and just about everyone who ever saw him play.

“Pelé is one of the few who contradicted my theory,” Andy Warhol once said. “Instead of 15 minutes of fame, he will have 15 centuries.”

Celebrated for his peerless talent and originality on the field, Pelé (pronounced peh-LAY) also endeared himself to fans with his sunny personality and his belief in the power of soccer — football to most of the world — to connect people across dividing lines of race, class and nationality.

He won three World Cup tournaments with Brazil and 10 league titles with Santos, his club team, as well as the 1977 North American Soccer League championship with the New York Cosmos. Having come out of retirement at 34, he spent three seasons with the Cosmos on a crusade to popularize soccer in the United States.

Before his final game, in October 1977 at Giants Stadium in East Rutherford, N.J., Pelé took the microphone on a podium at the center of the field, his father and Muhammad Ali beside him, and exhorted a crowd of more than 75,000.

“Say with me three times now,” he declared, “for the kids: Love! Love! Love!”

Pelé kicks a ball over his head in 1968 in an acrobatic move. Off-balance or not, he could lash the ball accurately with either foot.Credit...Associated Press

In his 21-year career, Pelé — born Edson Arantes do Nascimento — scored 1,283 goals in 1,367 professional matches, including 77 goals for the Brazilian national team.

Many of those goals became legendary, but Pelé’s influence on the sport went well beyond scoring. He helped create and promote what he later called “o jogo bonito” — the beautiful game — a style that valued clever ball control, inventive pinpoint passing and a voracious appetite for attacking. Pelé not only played it better than anyone; he also championed it around the world.

Among his athletic assets was a remarkable center of gravity; as he ran, swerved, sprinted or backpedaled, his midriff seemed never to move, while his hips and his upper body swiveled around it.

He could accelerate, decelerate or pivot in a flash. Off-balance or not, he could lash the ball accurately with either foot. Relatively small, at 5 feet 8 inches, he could nevertheless leap exceptionally high, often seeming to hang in the air to put power behind a header.

Like other sports, soccer has evolved. Today, many of its stars can execute acrobatic shots or rapid-fire passing sequences. But in his day, Pelé’s playmaking and scoring skills were stunning.

Early Success

Pelé sprang into the international limelight at the 1958 World Cup in Sweden, a slight 17-year-old who as a boy had played soccer barefoot on the streets of his impoverished village using rolled-up rags for a ball. A star for Brazil, he scored six goals in the tournament, including three in a semifinal against France and two in the final, a 5-2 victory over Sweden. It was Brazil’s first of a record five World Cup trophies.

Pelé also played on the Brazilian teams that won in 1962 and 1970. In the 1966 tournament, in England, he was brutally kicked in the early games and was finally sidelined by a Portuguese player’s tackle that would have earned an expulsion nowadays but drew nothing then.

With Pelé essentially absent, Brazil was eliminated in the opening round. He was so disheartened that he announced he would retire from national team play.

But he reconsidered and played on Brazil’s World Cup team in Mexico in 1970. That team is widely hailed as the best ever; its captain, Carlos Alberto, later joined Pelé on the Cosmos.

“I wish he had gone on playing forever,” Clive Toye, a former president and general manager of the Cosmos, wrote in a 2006 memoir. “But then, so does everyone else who saw him play, and those football people who never saw him play are the unluckiest people in the world.”

Pelé, right, hugging a teammate in 1958 after Brazil defeated Sweden 5-2 to win the World Cup. Credit... Associated Press/Reportagebild

Edson Arantes do Nascimento was born on Oct. 23, 1940, in Três Corações, a tiny rural town in the state of Minas Gerais. His parents named him Edson in tribute to Thomas Edison. (Electricity had come to the town shortly before Pelé was born.) When he was about 7, he began shining shoes at the local railway station to supplement the family’s income.

His father, a professional player whose career was cut short by injury, was nicknamed Dondinho.

Brazilian soccer players often use a single name professionally, but even Pelé himself was unsure how he got his. He offered several possible derivations in “Pelé: The Autobiography” (2006, with Orlando Duarte and Alex Bellos).

Most probably, he wrote, the nickname was a reference to a player on his father’s team whom he had admired and wanted to emulate as a boy. The player was known as Bilé (bee-LAY). Other boys teased Edson, calling him Bilé until it stuck.

One of Pelé’s earliest memories was of seeing his father, while listening to the radio, cry when Brazil lost to Uruguay, 2-1, in the deciding match of the 1950 World Cup in Rio de Janeiro. The game is still remembered as a national calamity. Pelé recalled telling his father that he would one day grow up to win the World Cup for Brazil.

He signed his first contract, with a junior team, when he was 14 and transferred to Santos at 15. He scored four goals in his first professional game, which Santos won, 7-1. He was only 16 when he made his debut for the national team in July 1957.

A New Way to Play

When Brazil’s team went to the World Cup in Sweden the next summer, Pelé later said, he was so skinny that “quite a few people thought I was the mascot.”

Once they saw him play, it was a different story. Reports of this precocious Brazilian teenager’s prowess raced around the world. One account told of how, against Wales in the quarterfinals, with his back to the goal, he received the ball on his chest, let it drop to an ankle and instantly scooped it around behind him. As it bounced, he turned — so quickly that the ball was barely a foot off the ground — and struck it into the net. It was his first World Cup goal and the game’s only one, and it put Brazil into the semifinals.

“It boosted my confidence completely,” he wrote in his autobiography. “The world now knew about Pelé.”

Pelé in his debut game in 1975 with the New York Cosmos at Randalls Island Stadium. Credit... Barton Silverman/The New York Times

The world now knew about Brazilian soccer, too. Pelé undoubtedly benefited from playing alongside other remarkably gifted ball-control artists — Garrincha, Didi and Vavá among them — as well as from Europe’s lack of familiarity with the Brazilian style.

Most European teams used static alignments; players seldom strayed from their designated areas.

Brazil, though, encouraged two of the four midfielders to behave like wingers when attacking. This forced opponents to cope quickly with four forwards, rather than two. Making things more difficult, the forwards often switched sides, right and left, and the outside fullbacks sometimes joined the attack. The effect dazzled onlookers, not to mention opponents.

After the semifinal against France, in which Pelé scored a hat trick in a 5-2 Brazil win, the French goalkeeper reportedly said, “I would rather play against 10 Germans than one Brazilian.”

The team went home to national acclaim, and Pelé resumed playing for Santos as well as for two Army teams as part of his mandatory military service. In 1959 alone, he endured a relentless schedule of 103 competitive matches; nine times, he played two games within 24 hours.

Santos began to capitalize on his fame with lucrative postseason tours. In 1960, en route to Egypt, the team’s plane stopped in Beirut, where a crowd gathered threatening to kidnap Pelé unless Santos agreed to play a Lebanese team.

“Fortunately, the police dealt with it firmly, and we flew on to Egypt,” Pelé wrote in his autobiography.

He had become such a hero that, in 1961, to ward off European teams eager to buy his contract rights, the Brazilian government passed a resolution declaring him a nonexportable national treasure.

Soccer Diplomacy

When Pelé was about to retire from Santos in the early 1970s, Henry A. Kissinger, the United States secretary of state at the time, wrote to the Brazilian government asking it to release Pelé to play in the United States as a way to help promote soccer, and Brazil, in America.

By then, two more World Cups, numerous international club competitions and tireless touring by Santos had made Pelé a global celebrity. So it was beyond quixotic when Toye, the Cosmos’ general manager, decided to try to persuade the player universally acclaimed as the world’s best, and highest paid, to join his team.

The Cosmos had been born only a month earlier, in one afternoon, when all the players had gathered in a hotel at Kennedy International Airport to sign an agreement to play for $75 a game in a country where soccer was a minor sport at best.

Toye first met with Pelé and Julio Mazzei, Pelé’s longtime friend and mentor, in February 1971 during a Santos tour in Jamaica. It took dozens more conversations over the next four years, as well as millions of dollars from Warner Communications, the team’s owner, for Pelé to join the Cosmos.

During that period, he became the top scorer in Brazil for the 11th time, Santos won the 10th league championship of his tenure, and Pelé took heavy criticism for retiring from the national team and refusing to play in the 1974 World Cup, in West Germany.

Toye made his last pitch in March 1975 in Brussels. Pelé had retired from Santos the previous October, and two major clubs, Real Madrid of Spain and Juventus of Italy, were each offering a deal worth $15 million, Pelé later recalled.

“Sign for them, and all you can win is a championship,” Toye said he told Pelé. “Sign for me, and you can win a country.”

To further entice him, Warner added a music deal, a marketing deal guaranteeing him 50 percent of any licensing revenue involving his name, and a guarantee to hire his friend Mazzei as an assistant coach. Pelé signed a three-year contract worth, according to various estimates, $2.8 million to $7 million (the latter equivalent to about $40 million today).

Clive Toye, the general manager of the Cosmos, with Pelé after the soccer star signed with the team in 1975. Credit... Chester Higgins Jr./The New York Times

He was presented to the news media on June 11, 1975, at the “21” Club in New York. Pandemonium ensued: Fistfights broke out among photographers, and tables collapsed when people stood on them.

The hubbub continued when Pelé played his first North American Soccer League game, on June 15 at Downing Stadium on Randalls Island in the East River. It was a decrepit home; workers hastily painted its dirt patches green because CBS had come to televise the big debut. More than 18,000 fans, triple the previous largest crowd, shouldered their way in to watch.

At every road game during Pelé’s three North American seasons, the Cosmos attracted enormous crowds and a press contingent larger than that of any other New York team, with many journalists representing foreign networks, newspapers and news agencies. Movie and music stars — including Mick Jagger, Robert Redford and Rod Stewart — showed up for home games, lured by Warner executives’ enthusiasm for their hot new talent.

The Cosmos moved to Giants Stadium in Pelé’s final season, 1977, and there, in the Meadowlands, reached the pinnacle of their — and the league’s — popularity. For a home playoff game on Aug. 14, a crowd of 77,691 exceeded not only expectations but also capacity, squeezing into a stadium of 76,000 seats.

That season, the Cosmos had added two more global superstars, Franz Beckenbauer of West Germany and Carlos Alberto of Brazil. (Later, in 1979, the Los Angeles Aztecs lured a third, Johan Cruyff of the Netherlands, to the league.) Soccer seemed poised to enter the American mainstream.

But as it turned out, professional soccer was not yet ready to blossom in America, not even after the Cosmos won the 1977 league championship, in Seattle, or after Pelé’s festive farewell game in October, when he led the “Love!” chant and played one half for the Cosmos and the other half for the visiting team, his beloved Santos.

The league had expanded to 24 teams, from 18, and lacked the financial underpinnings to sustain that many games and that much travel. Nor could other teams match the Cosmos’ spending on top-quality players. The league went out of business after the 1984 season.

But at the grass-roots level, and in schools and colleges, soccer did take off. In 1991, the United States women’s national team won the first women’s World Cup. (The United States has won it three times since.) In 2002, the men’s national team made it to the quarterfinals of the World Cup. And Major League Soccer has established itself as a sturdy successor to the N.A.S.L. (In 2011, the inaugural season of a new minor league with the N.A.S.L. name included a New York Cosmos team, of which Pelé was named honorary president.)

In June 2014, the city of Santos opened a Pelé Museum just before the start of the World Cup, the first held in Brazil since 1950. In a video recorded for the occasion, Pelé said, “It’s a great joy to pass through this world and be able to leave, for future generations, some memories, and to leave a legacy for my country.”

Advocate for Education

Pelé met Rosemeri Cholbi when she was 14 and wooed her for almost eight years before they married early in 1966. They had three children — Kelly Cristina, Edson Cholbi and Jennifer — before divorcing in 1982.

After his divorce, Pelé often appeared in the gossip pages, partying with film stars, musicians and models. He acted in several movies, including John Huston’s “Victory” (1981), with Michael Caine and Sylvester Stallone.

It also emerged that he had fathered two daughters out of wedlock. One, Sandra, whom he had refused to acknowledge, later sued for the right to use his surname. She wrote a book, “The Daughter the King Didn’t Want,” which he said greatly embarrassed him. She died of cancer in 2006.

His son, nicknamed Edinho, was a professional goalkeeper for five years before an injury ended his career. He later went to prison on a drug-trafficking conviction.

In 1994, Pelé married Assiria Seixas Lemos, a psychologist and Brazilian gospel singer; their twins, Joshua and Celeste, were born in 1996. They divorced in 2008. In his later years he dated a Brazilian businesswoman, Marcia Aoki, and he married her in 2016.

Complete information on survivors was not immediately available.

His brother Jair Arantes do Nascimento, who was known as Zoca and also played for Santos, died in 2020.

Children always responded warmly to Pelé, and he to them. Neither big nor intimidating, he had a wide, easy smile and a deep, reassuring voice.

“I have never seen another human being who was so willing to take the extra second to embrace or encourage a child,” said Jim Trecker, a longtime soccer executive who was the Cosmos’ public relations director in the Pelé years.

Pelé greeting children during the inauguration of a soccer pitch in Rio de Janeiro in 2014. Credit... Silvia Izquierdo/AP

Pelé was sensitive about having dropped out of school (he later earned a high school diploma and a college degree while playing for Santos) and often lamented that so many young Brazilians remained poor and illiterate even as the country had begun to prosper.

Indeed, the day he scored his 1,000th goal, in November 1969 at Maracanã stadium in Rio before more than 200,000 fans, Pelé was mobbed by reporters on the field and used their microphones to dedicate the goal to “the children.” Crying, he made an impromptu speech about the difficulties of Brazil’s children and the need to give them better educational opportunities.

Many journalists interpreted the gesture as grandstanding, but for decades, as if to correct the record, he cited that speech and repeated the sentiment. In July 2007, at a promotional event in New York for a family literacy campaign, he said, “Today, the violence we see in Brazil, the corruption in Brazil, is causing big, big problems. Because, you see, for two generations, the children did not get enough education.”

(On the subject of correcting the record, research for his 2006 biography turned up additional games played, and the authors concluded that the famous 1,000th goal was actually his 1,002nd.)

In London during the 2012 Olympics, Pelé joined a so-called hunger summit meeting convened by the British prime minister at the time, David Cameron, whose stated goal was to reduce by 25 million the number of children stunted by malnutrition before the Rio Olympics in 2016.

Business and Music

Pelé’s own venture into government began in 1995, when he was appointed Brazil’s minister for sport by then-President Fernando Henrique Cardoso. Pelé began a crusade to bring accountability to the business operations of Brazil’s professional teams, which were still run largely as gentlemen’s clubs, and to reform rules governing players’ contracts.

In 1998, Pelé’s Law, as it was known, passed. It required clubs to incorporate as taxable for-profit corporations and to publish balance sheets. It required that players be 20 before signing a professional contract and gave them the right of free agency after two years (instead of after age 32).

Many of the provisions were later weakened, and corruption continued, but Pelé said he took pride that the free agency clause had survived.

Business deals gone awry plagued him throughout his life.

He himself said he was often gullible, trusting friends who were less competent than they appeared. In 2001, a company he had helped found a decade earlier, Pelé Sports and Marketing, was accused of taking enormous loans to stage a charity game for Unicef and then not repaying the money when the game failed to happen. Pelé shut down the company; Unicef said there had been no wrongdoing on his part.

While continuing to promote educational programs throughout his life, Pelé also pursued his musical avocation. He was never far from a guitar, and he carried a miniature tape recorder to capture tunes or lyrics as the mood struck him.

He composed dozens of songs that were recorded by Brazilian pop stars, usually without his taking credit.

Pelé relaxing during the World Cup in Mexico in 1970. Pursuing a musical avocation, he was never far from a guitar. Credit... Pictorial Parade/Archive Photos, via Getty Images

“I didn’t want the public to make the comparison between Pelé the composer and Pelé the football player,” he told the British newspaper The Guardian in 2006. “That would have been a huge injustice. In football, my talent was a gift from God. Music was just for fun.”

As he grew older, he often spoke of the difficulty of distinguishing between two personas: his real self, and the soccer superstar Pelé. He often referred to Pelé in the third person.

“One of the ways I try to keep perspective on things,” he wrote in his autobiography, “is to remind myself that what people are responding to isn’t me, necessarily; it’s this mythical figure that Pelé has become.”

His face remained familiar around the world long after his retirement from soccer. In 1994, when the World Cup was about to be played in the United States, Pelé sat in Central Park in New York waiting to be interviewed for ABC News. A teenager passed, did a double-take and then ran off; within minutes, people were streaming across the park to see him.

“There were hundreds of them,” Toye wrote in his own memoir. “Seventeen years after he last kicked a ball, this dark-skinned man is sitting in deep, dark shade under the trees — but he is still recognized, and once recognized, never alone in any country on earth.”

#Pelé #Edson Arantes do Nascimento #The New York Times #Obituary #Cancer #Santos #Brasil #Cosmos #NYC

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