HAPPY FATHER: Every time I come home from a race, my son runs up to me with wide eyes and that innocent excitement only a child can carry. He always asks the same thing: “Daddy, did you win?” And every time, I

Every time I come home from a race, my son runs up to me with wide eyes and that innocent excitement only a child can carry. He always asks the same thing: “Daddy, did you win?” And every time, I kneel down, ruffle his hair, and say, “No buddy, daddy didn’t win this time.” It stings—not because of pride or ego, but because I see how much he believes in me, how much he wants to celebrate that moment with me. It’s in his eyes—the belief that his dad is a superhero, someone who can conquer anything.

Racing is full of highs and lows, and most days, it’s about grit, not glory. But today feels different. Today, we’re in Le Mans. Today, we’re starting second in class for Race 1, and something deep down says this might be our day to flip the script.

This isn’t just about trophies or lap times. It’s about showing my son what persistence looks like. It’s about teaching him that every “no” can be one step closer to a “yes.” That sometimes, the most powerful wins aren’t the ones broadcast on TV, but the ones witnessed in our own homes—where resilience, hope, and quiet determination live.

So here’s to today. To pushing hard. To racing smart. To showing my son that no matter the outcome, his dad never stops believing, never stops fighting—and that maybe, just maybe, today, he gets to hear a different answer when he asks, “Daddy, did you win?”