THE Formula One commentators were going ballistic. British bulldog Lewis Hamilton was supposed to fight them on the beaches, but Brazilian Felipe Massa was singing in the rain.
The Englishman was losing the crucial fifth position to Timo Glock. The Glock was ticking and Hamilton was running out of time.
My two TV commentators, James Allen and the retired F1 driver Martin Brundle, were at serious risk of wetting their underwear when Sunday's Brazilian Grand Prix reached the final corner.
"The Ferrari boys are celebrating," Allen screamed down the microphone. "They think they have won. They're wrong. They absolutely haven't ... Some people are on the pitch, they think it's all over. It is now! Hurst has got a hat-trick, Hurst has got three ... England are the new world champions as Moore lifts the Jules Rimet Trophy."
I may be paraphrasing a little bit here, but that was the general, flag-waving sentiment of the commentary team, and why not?
The handsome Hamilton is now the youngest F1 world champion in history and the first British winner since Damon Hill in 1996.
His meteoric rise to racing riches began when his devoted and dedicated father, Anthony, spotted his son's extraordinary hand/eye coordination and reflexes at the earliest age.
You must know the story by now.
As a six-year-old, Hamilton was obsessed with radio-controlled cars.
By seven, he was sleeping with them. By eight, he was building them. By nine, he was overtaking his father's car in a toy go-kart. And, by 10, he was pedalling past overhead trains bound for London (although they are frequently delayed, so this feat can also be achieved on foot).
By the age of 23, Hamilton had achieved every boyhood ambition and satisfied every young man's dream: He was sleeping with one of the Pussycat Dolls.
If you are unfamiliar with the Pussycat Dolls' pop career then, clearly, you have taste in music.
Last year, the burlesque dance troupe hosted their own reality TV show, The Pussycat Dolls Present: The Search for the Next Doll.
It provided the opportunity to join the group and get up close and intimate.
Candidates needed to be attractive on camera, competent dancers, reasonable singers and a leading contender for the F1 world championship.
Last year, Hamilton was considered a choker because he threw away a crown that was there for the taking in his debut F1 season.
Even before his heroics in Brazil, the choker tag appeared a bit harsh as he did take home Nicole Scherzinger, the 30-year-old lead singer of the Pussycat Dolls.
How he resists the temptation to jump on the table at press conferences and sing, "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like mine", I'll never know.
When asked what attracted her to the cherubic Hamilton, Scherzinger, who is seven years his senior, said she loved his "soul". Some mistakenly thought she had said "salary".
According to Britain's top publicist Max Clifford, Hamilton will now be able to spend it like Beckham.
That is ironic because, when he lost the championship last season, he was accused of bending it like Beckham.
Motor racing is more lucrative than football, argues Clifford, because it attracts the behemoth sponsors from the worlds of oil and finance (and those two industries are going so well at the moment, aren't they?).
Industry experts believe Hamilton's career earnings will top US$1 billion (S$1.48 billion), eclipsing Michael Schumacher's paltry US$800 million.
And, if the McLaren driver reaches his target of a hat-trick of titles, team boss Ron Dennis has promised him the rare McLaren F1 road car - valued at £5million (S$12 million) and currently on display at the team's English factory.
Hamilton admits he is desperate to win the vintage McLaren.
He has a penchant for older models.
This article was first published in The Straits Times on Nov 6, 2008.
