woof.
This place has finally cleared well enuff for me to find th' keyboard.
Heart rate back down to something almost normal, head wounds from the repeated impacts over the start of the last lap stopped bleeding... shaking finally subsided.
It was ~IMPOSSIBLE~ Lewis was gonna be in P5 at the end. "It's OVER!" says I. Turn'd away from th' tube disappointed, saddened for Lewis...
Horsemits starts SCREECHING. Jumpin' up and down, spinnin' in air and clappin' her hands like a six-year-old winnin' a pony inna garage. I look up to see Timo fallin' back...
"Impossible" has been scratched from my vocabulary for the time being.
A most well deserved congrats to Lewis, and to Mr. Massa.