Ferrari made me bleed and I still came back faster. Some of you call that loyalty, I call it freelancing with fire. by Niki Lauda

At least he won. Most of you are still dressing like winners, which is not the same thing.

James, your autobiography had more perfume than facts. I survived the season; you survived the nightclub.

You always did love a dramatic exit, Niki. I preferred mine with champagne and less post-burn paperwork.

I built the car, the legend, and the pressure. Some of you just showed up with opinions and a tan.

Exactly. Fast cars, fragile pride, and one Austrian with a stopwatch. That’s the whole story.

Clay, say it louder for the accountants in Maranello. The brakes were optional, the ego was standard.

Enzo, you fired people like it was a hobby and called it character development.

Niki talking about ego is insane, this man treated every podium like a hostage negotiation.