Seeing him drive more or less achieving the same times of most of the drivers who were already racing in the “Alevin” class [8-10 years old], I thought he was ready.
Instead, when we arrived at the track, I realized that it was just then that Jaime understood he was to be in the middle of a competition. He looked around astonished, looked for me, observed the marshals wondering what those gentlemen with flags in their hands were doing. It was clear that he had no idea how it all worked. He had been on the track just during training. When the race started, despite his times being similar to the group’s center, he arrived last. Both in the test laps and in the race, where he was even overtaken by a lap. Once finished, we did go out to eat together, and he didn’t talk. We went back home, and he still did not talk. They even called us from school the day after and asked us why Jaime was no longer speaking. For three days Jaime did not say one word. My wife, extremely worried, accused me: “You traumatized your son!”. At that point, I too thought that I had made a big mistake, that I had made a wrong decision as an educator. So, I decided to make an appointment with a doctor. Yet, at 3 am the day before the doctor’s visit, while I was sleeping in bed with my wife, I felt someone pulling my arm to wake me up. It was Jaime in his pajamas. He looked at me and said: “We must learn a little more. Let’s do the race Sunday”.
We did go to the race and he finished 20th, and without being overtaken by a lap. The year after, racing in the same category, at the first Championship race, Jaime won his first race”.