Matteo Perego.

The Plan

The plan: meet at 16:30 to load the bikes and then bed. It will take them all night to strap them to the van, as though they were solving the Sphinx's riddle. We didn't ask what the difficulties were, out of self-respect. Half an hour's sleep on the sofa, then off to Cremona, late, stuck behind a convoy of tractors that would not have looked out of place at a Strasbourg protest.

First Session and the Elbow

First session: 2:06, against a declared target of 2:10. Next session he scrapes his elbow at corner 10 and rides back to the pits like he has just won Le Mans. Verstappen at his third title celebrated less. Messages to the members, photos, shouts. He also promises to offer the services of certain "ladies" to anyone who gets close to him.

The crew intervenes with the patience of a lifer watching a juvenile get brought in for dealing: racing lines, gear selection, the suggestion to stop scraping his elbow in every corner as if he were being paid for it. Matteo is chomping at the bit.

Fifth Session

Fifth session: heatstroke and hand raised, then throwing up in the pits in a way that leaves no doubt about the severity of the situation. From the paddock comes a wail from those already anticipating the evening of courtesans Matteo had promised. He throws in the towel. It's over.

But it is never over in the heart of the truly self-destructive.

The Last Lap

He is criminally seduced by Macu into doing two laps in the last session, ostensibly to show him the lines. Because obviously the right thing to do for someone who has just emptied his soul is to send him flying at 250 km/h. They go out and Matteo applies two hours of advice absorbed in a state of semi-collapse to pull out a 1:57.8. Curtain.

Lazarus rose with less enthusiasm.