Need To Read This Sooo In Depth Ty Hazawa - Blog Posts
あの日、流した涙を忘れない - a retranslation
FOREWORD. The purpose of this retranslation is to not only fix mistranslations found in the original text, but also because I want people to know how Yuki writes. How he speaks. The Players’ Tribune launched in Japan in 2021. Yuki Tsunoda, Japan’s new up and coming Formula 1 star, was quickly announced to be one of the first athletes they’d cover.
Originally published on March 25, 2021 (the Thursday preceding Tsunoda’s F1 debut on the 28th), the piece was later translated into English on May 6th, 2022 (the Friday preceding the 5th round, Miami, on the 8th.).
A blogpost by Daria Steigman describing the very essence of The Players’ Tribune included a rhetorical question that was very specific to me: “You know how nuance is often lost in translation?”. It was a question meant to suggest the opposite. The Players’ Tribune is committed to letting athletes tell their own stories, without catering to advertisers or having to be put through the words of reporters, an idea I adore: but eventually, as it globalized, and articles were no longer always default in English, there were articles you had to read through translation, if you didn’t know the original language. And for a long time I was okay with that. Eventually, though, I heard what a friend of mine, a native Chinese speaker, had to say about Zhou Guanyu’s article: that there was a certain desperation in his tone, an immensely evocative feeling, that just wasn’t portrayed in the English, in the title itself. It’s translated into “I Want You to Know This About Me”, but my friend said it’s more like “Things I Wished You Understood”. So I revisited Yuki’s article, this time not reading the English and Japanese separately but instead side by side: and I thought okay, yeah. There were mistranslations and lost nuance galore: I decided I would have a shot at translating it myself.
Here’s the original article in Japanese. // Here’s the official English translation. (I wish I could credit the original translator somehow. I’ve been poking around for a while, but so far I haven’t been able to find any names.) I’d like to thank Nestor for beta-ing this for me. There were a lot of things I wasn’t sure made sense in English, so he helped a lot in clarifying certain analogies and localizing tone.
TRANSLATOR'S NOTES. For the sake of this translation, I prioritized a direct translation over stylistic choice. The official translation has new paragraph breaks and localizes metaphors. The official translation is, in all honesty, much better written than Yuki’s rhetoric: he’d often explain things twice, and he speaks in a tone that pretty much spoils the story to come. I think that’s quite charming, so I tried to replicate his voice as-is, and thus it’s pretty much a sentence-to-sentence translation. Notes for reference, seen in numbers throughout the text, can be found AT THE END / BOTTOM OF THE POST.
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I won’t forget the tears I shed that day.
I think that that would be the last time I’d ever cry from frustration [1].
4 years ago, I was still 16, and a student at the Suzuka Circuit Racing School. It was the final selection for Honda’s formula driver development program. If I got in, I’d be able to run in the domestic F4 next year, and if I failed… I planned to quit racing.
Now, I stand at the gates of the stage that we call F1. Looking back on it, that was where my life split paths. A turning point.
The final selection that year didn’t just include experienced drivers who had already ran in F4 previously, but also athletes who had come back from fighting overseas, and of course it was extremely uncertain if I would make it through.
However, I’ve been karting and racing since I was 4 years old, and I had satisfactory results to my name. That same year, I was allowed a one-off seat and debuted in Formula racing to become the youngest to achieve a podium, and a maiden win in Super FJ’s final round, the All-Japan Master’s race. Even at the school, I had good results leading up to the final selection, and my points totaled for a fair fight for first or second overall. So I thought that as long as I didn’t make some huge mistake, I’d be able to claw into the top 2, and I had confidence I’d end up at the top in the end.
I’m capable. If I can’t put out a good result here, or if I can’t entrance the judges with my driving, then I know how it all ends. So I had gone in telling myself that if I couldn’t get past this, I’d give up racing forever. Even if I failed, I’m sure there were other paths, like other development programs and driving outside of the Formulas, but I don’t like facing directions that weren’t my own. I decided that rather than half-assing something else, I would just lead a different life.
However, the worst case scenario awaited me. Back then, my mentality was super weak, and out of all places for it to fail me, it decided it’d be at the final selection. I knew my body was stiff from my nerves from before the races. The very fingertips that gripped the steering were tense. This isn’t the usual me. So there I was, starting in that state, and I immediately did a false start… . I was given a penalty in which I ran slowly through the pit road and rejoined the track. At that point I was far behind the pack in the front, and it was like I was running alone. I felt so pathetic, and I felt nothing towards driving at all. As a result, the points from this race were essentially 0. An unmistakable 3rd, failing at the final selection.
On the train home, I was so disappointed with myself that tears naturally began to flow. Ever since I started taking racing seriously, this kind of thing had never happened before. Though I was the youngest of the participants, I was confident I wouldn’t lose so it shook me when I did, and even if I try to envision the future I can’t see a thing. I remember clearly even now, how I was in such low spirits [2] that on that train home I didn’t even want to come home and see my parents.
Despite it all, I had one glimmer of hope. Those were the words that the then-Honda F4 team principal had given to me.
“You can’t race next year as a development driver for Honda. However, Honda has 4 cars in Formula 4. The remaining two seats, the ones that race for the Suzuka Racing School, might be able to go to you.”
That was because former F1 driver Nakajima Satoru (-san) had recommended [3] me. He was the principal of the school at the time, and had been watching us drive during the final selection at the chicane of the last corner.
It was a version of myself that was given that penalty at the start and not even feeling up to race anymore, but I put my all into it as if to avoid any regret. I saw Nakajima Satoru (-san), standing at the final corner, past my visor. I didn’t want to show him careless driving. “It’s a despair-inducing position but I won’t give up, and I’ll continue running towards the pack in the front.” That’s what I thought. Then the path ahead seemed to clear.
In 2017, I entered F4, not as a development driver but from Suzuka Racing. Then, my overall yearly total ranking was an immediate third, and the next year of 2018 I was chosen as a development driver where I was crowned champion.
It’s all because I had tasted failure at that final selection. [4]
I think the biggest change has been my mentality. Until I had a taste of that failure [4], I had good results, and I was kind of like, “oh, it’ll all go well in the end even if I don’t do anything”. Even that start I failed at the final selections– I had already known I wasn’t that good at starts, and I had lots of time to practice, but I didn’t. Somewhere in me I wanted to take the easy route, and believed in myself a little too much. On top of that, at the time, I was terrified of mistakes, and drove in a way that avoided them at all costs, so I was losing sight of ways I could improve.
Having failed at the selection, a realization bloomed in me that I’m far from perfect, and that I had to get much, much faster. I figured it was important to stop fearing mistakes and just go forth and fail a ton, so that I find new things and learn from them. Because of this, when I came overseas, in the earlier parts of my F3 season two years ago and F2 season last year, even if I couldn’t get points the way I wanted to, I wasn’t pressed about it at all. If anything, I was certain in my process of making a ton of mistakes at the start to learn as much as possible from them.
It’s famous that current IndyCar driver and former F1 driver Sato Takuma (-san) said “No attack, no chance” but I really think that that’s the truth. No matter what sport it is, you need to push yourself past your limits to discover what lies beyond that, and if you don’t even try, you’ll just stay where you are. So right now, even if I make mistakes or if my results are poor, as odd as it is, I don't feel like I’m struggling at all. Even if I make an error, how I take it is up to me. If I make a mistake, I want to confront its reason. When I remember that getting over that will help me get even faster, I’m less frustrated [1] and the feelings of wanting to get faster prevail: it helps me to always look myself in the eyes and stay positive.
With this opportunity to drive in F1, I realize once again how grateful I am to my parents. I loved to move around as a kid, so I was doing anything if it was considered a sport– swimming, soccer, mountain biking–and this is not a sport, but I was also playing piano. Now that I think about it, I think my father and mother were just letting me do everything I had an interest in. And, the reason I started karting was because of my father. He loved motorsports, and he was even doing gymkhana himself. One day, at a circuit he took me to, he let me drive a kart. That was the first. Actually, apparently I also tried out a pocket bike, but having done both I said “the kart is more fun”... I don’t really remember this myself, though. LOL [10]
But were there ever times when I didn’t like karting? A ton. [5]
For example, I was about seven years old. When I was playing video games at the karting track in some downtime, my father said something like “focus more on the race” and confiscated my game, and I was like “I don’t really want to do this anymore”. From there, my dad got stricter and stricter so that I would improve, and I got yelled at for a lot of things. Honestly, up until when I was about 15, I wasn’t thankful for my father at all, and there were even times I hated him. Talk about “THE rebellious phase”. I think I was right in the middle of it.
In my studies, it wasn’t just my father that was strict but also my mother. She constantly told me to consider a future in which I wasn’t successful in motorsport and “go study”. My middle school didn’t have excused absences [6] so when the race was over I’d go home within that day and get ready for school, always go to school, be present in my classes, study and do [7] my exams, rinse and repeat. Honestly it was really tough, and I never liked it, but I continued to study pretty decently.
Back then, I wasn’t able to really feel any gratitude towards my parents, but now I feel the total opposite. It’s only because they were strict on me, yelled at me, and taught me many things then, that the current me that exists now, I think. I’m really, truly thankful.
I myself didn’t really think I could drive in F1 this quickly. Of all the drivers here right now, not even as a Japanese driver, but even including foreign ones, I’ve gotten here on the shortest route there is.
When I was 7 years old, and I went to see F1 in reality at Fuji Speedway, drivers like Lewis Hamilton and Fernando Alonso were driving. At that time, it wasn’t adoration but instead a feeling like “one day, I want to race with drivers like these”, and those feelings don’t change even now. Hamilton is already a legendary person, and being able to drive alongside him is such an honor and something I still can’t believe, but once we're in the circuit, Hamilton and Alonso are all the same, just one driver. I think of them as an enemy.
Those feelings don’t change, regardless of if they’re towards F1’s current fastest, my strongest rival [13] of Max Verstappen, or my teammate in my current team, Alphatauri, of Pierre Gasly. I want to hurry up and know how much I can keep up with Verstappen, and how much of a fight I can put up against him. Gasly was an athlete that was shining in Japan’s top series, Super Formula, when I was in F4 in Japan, so although a part of me wants to learn as much as I can from him, another part of me knows that given we’re in the same machinery, I’ll have to beat him one day, and I think he’s my number one rival.
In the world of F1, what they want from you is “speed”. Even if you argue as much as you want that it’s not just “speed”, you’ll have impact as long as you have “speed”, and if you have “speed”, even if people pass you or you fall behind in the earlier parts of the race, you’re able to pick it up in the later half. However, it’s actually most difficult to show your “speed” when it matters most. My biggest strength is that “speed”, so I want to continue to absorb where I lack to build on top of that.
Speaking of which, during this past break I said during an online interview that my goal is “to equal the record of 7 world championships” and came out a little grand, but I didn’t mean to imply that kind of attitude. [9]
I haven’t even ran one race in F1, there’s no way I can say something like that. LOL. [11]
What I’m thinking right now, for my debut, is to first and foremost put out the maximum performance I have.And to get every extra point I can throughout the season. Like in F2, even if I’m promoted to F1 I’ll probably still make a lot of mistakes from the start to the middle of the season, but I want to make new discoveries and learn lots. At the press conference, I said that kind of general statement, but I got a question that was like “What is Tsunoda’s aspirations?” so I was like, “Maybe get 7 world championships like Lewis Hamilton?” and they used that as a big headline. To clarify, it’s more like my real intention is to focus on every small thing ahead of me, and if, as a result of all that piling up, my “aspirations” came true, I’d be pretty happy.
Moving ahead, I wonder what lies ahead of me [14]. I want to improve my abilities, and grow to become a racer that represents the world of F1, and in doing that I’d feel a new kind of pressure and motivation, and what the fans expect from me might grow even bigger.
That’s why I never want to forget the feeling of this year, in 2021, when I ride in F1 for the first time. I want to keep the feelings I have now, as a rookie, close to my chest, and from here on out fail as much as I want, learn a ton, and have fun.
I don’t think I’ll ever shed tears like the ones I did four years ago, when I failed the final selection. I won’t forget the tears I shed that day. I wonder, though, if I’m to shed tears from now on, what kind of tears they’d be….
Realistically, maybe my first win? Getting to F1 is already really hard, but the road from here is only harsher. Winning is truly difficult, so what I shed from now on must not be “tears of frustration”, but “tears of happiness”.
[12]
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TRANSLATOR'S NOTES. [1] Literally the first word was already giving me trouble: 悔しい is a really, really difficult word to translate into English. “Frustrated” is generally the go-to translation, but if ‘frustration’ is more of the anger that comes with the word ‘upset’, then 悔しさ is the sadness. That feeling of biting your lip and looking at the floor so you don’t cry. That feeling of misfortune, regret of failure. It’s a word that always felt a little sad to me. Frustrated feels a little angry to me. To me there is a bit of a cultural connotation to it as well: that balled fist of “frustration” feels like an English reaction, and the can’t-even-look-you-in-the-eye-ness of 悔しさ has a bottling up reflective of the culture the language is spoken in. I hope that made any sense LOL and I understand why the translator went with “disappointed with myself” instead. I used this translation the second time you see this word. [2] This word is often translated into “depressed”. In my opinion it’s worse than “becoming sad” but less severe than “depressed”.
[3] Debated between endorsed and recommended, decided on recommended
[4] The word used for “failure” describes a temporary but deafening sort of defeat. The one that assumes it’s really difficult emotionally to get back up, but also assumes you will, anyway.
[5] okay so the structure of this sentence in japanese is actually really fun: it’s like “Times when I didn’t like karting… yeah there was a ton” so it’s structured as to raise the question, ‘oh, did Yuki ever not like karting?’ BUT he does this thing that he does a LOT where he accidentally spoils the result of that dramatic sentence in the first word. Like by starting with “But” or “however” he often ruins the dramatic effect that the rest of the sentence is supposed to imply. I initially didn’t translate it as a rhetorical question, but like this: But there were times when I didn’t like karting…. A lot of times. This is a more direct translation in the way he says it: but the translation I decided on, suggested by my beta reader and friend, Nestor, keeps the original feeling of Yuki’s speech. For the best possible non-rhetorical question translation I could think of, well, that was it.
[6] 公欠扱い is when you’re absent for some special event like sporting and your absence isn’t counted, like you showed up. I think in most English speaking cultures this is often called an excused absence or a school exemption or . something of that sort
[7] the word he uses as the verb for ‘doing’ his tests/exams in school are actually the same ones he used going into the final race. It’s more like facing a big foe, to challenge something greater than you. Like he was squabbling up against the exam. Sword in hand. Gloves strapped on. Squared up. That kind of thing.
[8] I think the official translation entirely mistranslates this sentence. The official translation interprets the first half of the sentence, “[That also applies to] the fastest in F1 yet, the greatest / strongest enemy, max verstappen, and also…” and applies the starting adjectives used to describe Max to describe Pierre also. Pierre actually has a whole ‘nother set of descriptors, roughly translating to “my current teammate for the team i’m in, Alphatauri”. The official translation says Yuki is calling Max and Pierre the fastest in F1, but that’s not really what he said imo.
[9] It’s actually super vague what he’s saying in the original text: “I didn’t say that with that kind of intention (nuance).” But I think it’s an overconfidence / arrogance thing, since he knows where he is as a rookie, and he’s kind of making fun of himself for the bold claim here, retracting the statement.
[10] a true LOL. an LMAO, if you will. An LMFAO, if you must.
[11] the LOL you use when you’re trying to imply that you’re not being hostile . the LOL for when you’re trying to fill an awkwardly silent conversation.
[12] The official translation is weird. YES, it is more nicely formatted. NO, it does not at all convey the actual emotion in his voice. There is a degree of certainty, in his confidence, in the emotion of his tears, not “I hope they will be”. Also my god he used the same “Here on” like 4 times in two sentences I was like PLEASE. PLEASE USE A DIFFERENT WORD but I think this is also very charming!
[13] “Rival” is originally “enemy” here. Like deadass he calls Max Verstappen his biggest enemy. But don’t get me wrong: “enemy” has a negative, bad-blood sort of connotation, but Yuki says this like he’s a boss or a mob to defeat in a video game. Like he’s playing Dragon Quest, and Max is, well, the Dragonlord. His original use of “Enemy” over “Rival” only connotes a fighting spirit, and not something so opposing.
[14] The real words Yuki uses here are “I wonder what kind of scenery I’ll start to see?” but since ‘scenery’ as a word in English can be interpreted literally, like traveling all around the world, I opted for ‘what lies ahead’, since that’s generally a more internal statement that retains the same meaning.
＊I translated 母 and 父 to “mother” and “father” since those were technically formal. In my opinion “haha” and "chichi” are more formal than “okaasan” and “otousan” even though there’s a -san. I think you can still replace them with “mom” and “dad” and it wouldn’t really lose much of anything.
I’ve noticed some habits in his word choice, like how he often uses metaphors for walking / running, paths and doors. Physical places you’d walk on / through, you know.
thank you so so much for reading up until this point, if you have! and even if you haven't, thanks for scrolling all the way down. <3