Golden Lap review: A love letter to racing’s past with near-immaculate vibes | Gaming

I can taste the champagne. Then, suddenly, I can’t.

Both not quite Ferraris are out of the not quite Monaco Grand Prix, taking with them the dominant force that’s monopolised the top step on the podium through three races in 1970. For a brief moment, my not quite Williams team is on course to take its first win under my management with a one-two in the principality.

It feels guaranteed.

Then, one of our cars slams the barriers, and everything gets a lot more precarious. It’s all down to my remaining driver, Briton Tim Morstan – with his crap goatee and very 70s hairdo – to bring it home. All he has to do is finish, without backing off enough to get mugged by one of the few remaining threats behind. For something like thirty laps, I watch on tenterhooks as his…