Chapter 1: Abu Dhabi
From skies, so bright, the gods cast down their gaze
to where victors old and new stood and swayed
on a pontoon, so blue, one so laden
with hope. Stage right, the pretender Hayden.
How short was time against disappointment,
how long to right last year’s cruel excitement.
What small battle were those that stood beside
against the doubt that surely lurked inside.
The mind, you see, can all too frequently
be a foe more fierce than the Eastern heat.
Et tu, Leo, the vanquisher, the new
King of the field. A crown stolen? For who
could have foretold that day in November.
Think of Alex, do you still remember?
A year so great; three wins, such style, such hope.
To lose it at the last, down a steep slope
of dark despair would most men slide. Not Yee.
And then we come to Kristian. Will he
conquer a world once won? Or will he fade,
burdened by the greatness of old? He bade
farewell to his new crown forged from iron
and pain, to chase, to become the huntsman.
Alas, this day is done for him. Illness
thwarts Kristian today, ill-timed sickness.
Lifetimes before, these men would have been our
champions, let the poets note their hour,
their minute, their small second, of greatness.
What are they now? Can anyone say this?
Our times have changed and the moment has come
for a campaign to start. Fated for some
to end at their lowest, fated for one
to stand above all else. Here, in the sun,
the race with destiny begins. A man
once said “to be or not to be”: élan
is the secret, the key is bravery.
Four men, one crown, one year, seven fine towns.
Four men, one dream, hunted by starving hounds.
Four men, by the quirks of history bound.
Look at them now. Watch how they wait and prowl.
What man is a friend when rivals abound?
But the stillness breaks free as the horn sounds.
The men clearly recall the lesson taught
by the new King Leo that day he wrought
such destruction to his rivals’ campaigns.
This day the men thrash and rage to again
break free of the old chains of convention.
To risk is the new norm, the invention
built to withstand the feared, awesome weapon
possessed foremost by Alex who happens
to wield such speed on foot like few before.
Hayden, too, has pace not to be ignored.
The swim is fierce, but take note of the field.
Alex remains in touch and moves with zeal.
Leo is behind his great friend, Vincent
Luis, who leads the pack as is his wont.
Luis once wore the crown you see; what friend
is a true friend when ambition pretends
to now yield to the newfound hierarchy?
That man, Luis, has tasted destiny
in times before. With strength renewed he leads
Leo, Hayden, Alex and more at speeds
designed to break their will. His first small test
was passed by all. Yet no solace or rest
comes now as the wheels start to turn. And then
Hayden is struck by fate’s cruel hand. Just when
his hopes began to rise he is sunk back
and left to chase as King Leo attacks
the field, leaving even his French allies.
Before the last, the gods smirk from the skies.
The men watch each other amid the rise
in the tempo. With strengths balanced, surprise
will be required as the crescendo fires.
The first move is made by Copeland; inspired
or brave, but soon subdued. With fleet of foot
the next salvo is launched as the rest put
their will to the test to endure the storm
set forth by the old king Luis. A swarm
of hopeful men pursue the day’s glory,
driven to disrupt the fated story
of the four favourites. Among them is Geens.
This man knows the secrets and mysteries
of the desert having taken success
in his past two ventures in the sand. Guess
what he will do. His great trick is to press
upon the will of his rivals, a chess
move that forces them to chase him. And yet
Alex is first to steal a march ahead.
Hayden strives to reclaim his place and asks
more of his legs. Leo’s eyes try to mask
the pain of the battle as his old friend
Luis pushes ahead on foot. No end
of joy awaits Leo today and he
must quietly hope the French unity
survives Vincent’s superiority.
The campaign is still young yet he should heed
this first warning. Up front, Alex can breathe
as the finish draws near. He does not need
to rush, he can savour the sweet moment.
There comes, Leo. He views his opponent
without envy. He knows his time will come.
While the winner, Alex, can bang his drum
and rejoice, the retreat to the shadows
begins. The crown is not won yet. Who knows
what challenges await. Illusions of
hope can fade so quickly, as doubt above
sows its early, cruel seed. Now starts the chase.
Afar, the Japanese battle awaits.
Two months shall pass until swords cross once more.
Four men still hope. What have the Fates in store?
—
(The full race report is available here.)
