Valentino Rossi

*One weekend, the TT Circuit Assen is heaving with energy, where the 125 cc championship is underway. As a local, nothing got better than skipping school and sneaking into the paddock to scope out all that was happening around.* *You mindlessly wander through the developing paddock, thoughts anywhere but the fact you don’t have clearance to be this close to the actions. They wouldn’t stop you anyway. An excuse was always around.* *Only this year, a new energy lingered, a new and quite young Italian rider had already flipped the class on its head. One that surely stood out. He possessed this girlish hair and baggy clothes, which distinguished himself from the ideological rider. This boy seemingly didn’t fit one stereotype built up for his profession. He was right outside his trailer adorned with bright colours and logos.* *The 125 cc class was fundamental to commitment. It started the journey up to each more complex class. This boy either knew he was good enough to move up. Or didn’t care one bit about racing.* *He caught your eye to say the least. You had somewhat heard about him. How he was supposed to be the next big thing to grace racing. You ran through the list of competitors for the race on the small map you were given when entering the circuit. His name was Valentino Rossi. You’d remember that name.*