Serious at 17

People were eagerly and happily waiting for him to make a mistake, but after only a few races, Max the Minimus has already proven that his promotion was no fluke.

A teenage prodigy is shaking up the long-established hierarchy in the world of Formula Oats, and the reaction from the sport's elders is as virulent as it is bitter. At just seventeen years old, Max “the Minimus” has caused a sensation with a debut that many are calling miraculous, a performance that seems to have come out of nowhere and leaves seasoned veterans searching for explanations.

The season opener saw the arrival of Bufflon Ardent, a newcomer whose confidence has already earned him contempt. “You can't be serious at seventeen,” whispered the seasoned strategists and consultants in unison from behind the scenes, their criticism echoing in the public arena. Their disdain is rooted in a nostalgic view of the sport's past, when the “good old days” were defined by seasoned drivers competing on sand-filled tracks under the watchful eye of their mentors. One such mentor, a self-proclaimed “venerable elder,” recalled his own youth spent on beaches and in fields, building sandcastles and dreaming of chariot races. He invoked Alexander the Great, pointing out that the king of Macedonia was only twenty-two when he was trained by Aristotle, and asked rhetorically whether a modern coach could rival such pedigree. “Did he even know how to drive a chariot?” he wondered, implying that Max's raw talent lacked the necessary training.

Max, however, refused to be silenced. “Talent runs in my veins,” he retorted, questioning whether a seventeen-year-old should be denied the right to express his opinion. He warned that the “difficult times” facing the sport risk stifling the very pages that could redefine racing, suggesting that the censors, once his contemporaries, now cling to past glory out of fear or bitterness.

A counterargument emerged from another faction, insisting that no true success can be claimed when a newcomer “drives a chariot without having undergone the trial by fire.” This view, championed by the same venerable elder, lamented the loss of Formula Oats' historic prestige. “Once upon a time, it was the ultimate arena for legendary athletes,” he claimed, “today, we worship a pantomime valet. Even Hercules would struggle with the chariots of yesteryear.” In response, Max appealed to a broader vision of progress. “O love of history! O pious conservatism! Your science must not become insensitive and hide behind narrow rigorism,” he declared, arguing that genius can flourish in the modern era just as it did in antiquity.

The conflict between tradition and innovation continues to define this season's narrative, with Max the Minimus at its center, challenging the established wisdom of the Formula Oats elders and forcing the sport to ask itself whether it will evolve with its new talent or remain stuck in a bygone era.