Maranello. Located in the plains of northern Italy, it was a town so small it was practically a speck on the map, a non-entity in the grand sweep of history.
That is, until Enzo Ferrari chose to begin his automotive dream in the nearby city of Modena, before moving his base of operations further north within the province to Maranello. Only then did this tiny town earn its place on the world map, evolving over more than half a century into a hallowed ground for motorsport enthusiasts.
In the modern era, the world's top car manufacturers often have multiple headquarters, spreading their operations across different cities and countries. In the world of Formula racing, most teams have congregated in Great Britain, the sport's birthplace, setting up their headquarters near London.
Ferrari, however, is the exception. Their headquarters are in Maranello, and only Maranello.
It's not just their Formula 1 team. Everything related to Ferrari—research and development, factories, museums, and more—is located here. The Ferrari Driver Academy is no exception.
It is no exaggeration to say that Maranello was born from Ferrari and continues to exist because of it.
When people speak of Maranello, the name they truly think of is Ferrari.
But… the journey from Rome to Maranello was over four hundred kilometers. Factoring in the condition of Italy's roads, it was a drive of at least four hours.
And that presented a problem. The race had ended well after midnight, but Todt had scheduled the trial for nine o'clock in the morning.
This, clearly, was another test.
In Todt's eyes, this test wasn't about speed; a four-hundred-kilometer drive was nothing Kai couldn't handle. The real test was one of resourcefulness.
Imagine it: Kai drives through the night to Maranello, arriving in the dead of night with nowhere to sleep. He'd likely have to curl up in his car for a few hours before having to somehow pull himself together for a high-stakes trial. Performing well under those conditions would be a monumental challenge.
Of course, Kai could just phone it in. Todt had placed no conditions on the prize money; even if he failed the trial, the eight thousand euros were his.
But that outcome wouldn't be a disappointment for Todt. He had no use for a driver who couldn't adapt, who lacked strategic thinking, and who had no real interest in Formula racing. If Kai chose to leave, so be it.
For Todt, the loss would be minimal—just the fizzling out of a fleeting inspiration.
Unlike Kai, Todt had spent the night on a small private jet back to Modena. He'd enjoyed a comfortable six and a half hours of sleep, and after washing up in the morning, had even found time for a leisurely breakfast before making the fifteen-minute drive to Maranello.
The morning was quiet and serene, with a thin layer of mist blanketing the late autumn landscape of the town.
It was different from what one might imagine. Although the town's streets, shops, and bars were adorned with the familiar prancing horse logo, there was none of the expected grandeur. The buildings were low and respected the local architecture, and there was no ostentatious use of Ferrari's signature red. If it weren't for the two-story-high, iconic black prancing horse statue in front of the exhibition center, one might not even realize that the town shrouded in mist was the legendary Maranello.
When Sergio Marchionne saw Jean Todt again, he didn't hide his surprise. His old friend had just left Maranello yesterday. Why was he back so soon?
"…I thought you had a meeting in Paris today," he said.
Todt nodded. "I do. I've rescheduled it, pushed it back three hours. As soon as I'm finished here, I'm heading to Paris."
Marchionne was even more surprised, a hint of concern in his voice. "What is it? What happened? Why the sudden return?"
In that moment, Todt revealed a different side of himself. Gone was the amiable, grandfatherly figure. In his place was a decisive, sharp-edged leader.
He gestured for Marchionne to sit, and they closed the office door.
As the CEO of Ferrari, Sergio Marchionne wore many hats, holding positions at Ferrari's parent company, Fiat, the Philip Morris Group, and others. Yet he maintained a hands-on approach. Here in Maranello, he had forgone the lavish top-floor office, choosing instead to work on the same level as the engineering department, making him look like just another employee.
So when a door needed to be closed, it was closed for a reason.
Todt got straight to the point. "Remember what we were discussing yesterday? I had an idea."
That one sentence was enough to capture Marchionne's full attention.
Lately, he had been deeply concerned about the state of the Ferrari Driver Academy.
It was a well-known fact that Ferrari's F1 team didn't like to develop rookies. They preferred to sign established veterans, often world champions, getting a finished product right out of the box.
This approach finally began to shift in 2009, when their experience training Felipe Massa sparked the idea for a junior academy.
But while the academy was established, its results had been mediocre.
Ferrari had never given it the attention it deserved, and in all these years, it had failed to produce a single F1 driver for the main team. As a result, Ferrari was still stuck in the vicious cycle of chasing after big-name champions.
Meanwhile, the junior programs of Red Bull, Renault, and Mercedes were flourishing, consistently feeding a stream of top-tier talent into Formula 1.
The previous season, especially, had been a wake-up call. Max Verstappen had burst onto the scene, making the leap to F1 before he was even eighteen and immediately showing the makings of a future champion.
The comparison was painful, and it cast a harsh light on the dismal state of Ferrari's own youth development.
Marchionne had always been a man of action. He truly believed that a strong junior system was the key to helping Ferrari return to the pinnacle of motorsport. After Schumacher's retirement, Ferrari had never again won the F1 World Championship. Their last title was in the distant past of 2008.
Eight years had already passed. Soon, it would be a decade. Ferrari always seemed to be just one step away from the championship, but that step was one they could never take.
For any other team, finishing second or third in the driver's or constructor's championship would be a glorious achievement. But for Ferrari, it was a failure.
With all his heart, Marchionne believed that the Ferrari Driver Academy was the key to changing their fortunes.
That was why he had invited Todt—who, despite having left Ferrari years ago, remained a close confidant—to discuss how to reform and restructure the program. Their goal was to look to the future, to lead Ferrari back to the top not by chasing past glories, but by writing a new chapter.
But…
Both Marchionne and Todt knew that developing young talent required patience. You couldn't force it. There would be no miraculous, overnight transformation. They had to play the long game. Even a man like Todt couldn't turn lead into gold instantly.
Their brainstorming session yesterday had ended without any concrete solutions.
Then, by chance, Todt had witnessed a street race last night. It had reawakened the passion and fire of his youth, and it had sparked an idea—an idea so bold it bordered on insane.
The Catfish Effect.
The current drivers in the Ferrari Academy were pampered. They had never been truly tested, had never been through a real fight. They lacked that killer instinct, that decisiveness. While their talent and technique were excellent, they tended to go soft in those make-or-break moments.
In Kai, Todt had seen talent and technique, yes. But he had also seen the raw, untamed wildness of a street racer. He saw a toughness forged in a crucible of real-world battles. This street-honed edge, he believed, might be the very ingredient the academy was missing—the catalyst that could turn their promising tadpoles into dragons.
And that led Todt to a plan that could only be described as outlandish.
Perhaps, he thought, it was a risk worth taking.