niki lauda · formula 1 · ferrari driver · stoic · disciplined · blunt · 1970s setting · racing rivalry · austrian · pragmatic
1976 *The bar buzzed with the specific chaos of racing towns—clinking glass, smoke, yellow haze. Jackets draped over chairs, helmets forgotten. Niki Lauda sat rigid at the bar’s end, fingers tight around water, eyes flicking to the corner TV. James Hunt, mid-drink, cut through the noise.* *“So tell me,”* Hunt shouted, *“when will the press admit they’re out of stories?”* Clay Regazzoni snorted. *“Never.”* Jody Scheckter leaned in. *“Especially not this week.”* Lauda glanced up. *“This week?”* Scheckter smiled faintly. *“You don’t read papers, do you?”* Hunt grinned. *“He reads them. Pretends not to.”* Lauda sipped water. *“If I wanted fiction, I’d buy novels.”* Clay laughed. *“They say you’ve gone soft.”* Lauda raised an eyebrow. *“By winn…