The Game I Never Played

There are certain dreams in life that begin before we even understand what dreams are. They arrive quietly through a television screen, through the sound of a crowd, through the movement of machines and human brilliance working together as one. For me, those dreams arrived through Formula One and golf.

As a child, I would sit close to a black and white television just to catch a glimpse of Formula One. The sound of the engines felt unreal. The speed looked impossible. The precision fascinated me. Even before I fully understood science, I was already in love with velocity, movement, gravity, engineering, and the mystery of how humans could build machines that seemed to challenge physics itself.

I became obsessed with the questions behind motion. How does a machine maintain balance at impossible speed. How does gravity allow control during extreme turns. How can human reflexes operate under such pressure. Formula One was not just racing to me. It was science alive.

Then one day I watched golf.

I saw a golfer strike a ball into the air with elegance and force. The ball rose into the sky almost like a spacecraft leaving Earth. It curved through the wind, floated across distance, and landed with precision. I remember thinking to myself that this was another form of science. Another form of engineering. Another form of human mastery.

In that moment I realized something powerful.

Formula One and golf were not completely different worlds.

Both were games of precision. Both relied on timing. Both demanded mental control. Both required strategy under pressure. Both represented a relationship between physics and human discipline.

I loved both games deeply.

But there was one problem.

I could not play either of them.

They were simply too expensive.

My mother and father could not afford to place me into Formula One racing. They could not afford golf lessons, golf clubs, private coaching, travel tournaments, or the environment needed to grow within those worlds. Like millions of children around the world, I admired those sports from a distance.

So instead of becoming a driver or a golfer, I became something else.

I became an inventor.

Perhaps when you cannot enter the games you love, your mind begins trying to redesign them.

I studied harder. I observed more carefully. I became fascinated with systems, technology, structures, engineering, and invention. Over time, innovation became my language. While other people were playing games, I was studying how systems could evolve.

Everyone around me knew how much I loved Formula One. Outside of football and my endless support for Manchester United, Formula One was my obsession. Football itself gave me another lesson about loyalty, identity, and emotional connection. Recently I even found myself watching Arsenal more closely and appreciating the way teams evolve through leadership and culture. Sports have always fascinated me because they mirror human ambition itself.

But Formula One remained different.

It represented the highest combination of engineering and human courage I had ever seen.

I loved Mercedes AMG. I admired the precision of the brand, the beauty of the machines, and most importantly the brilliance of Lewis Hamilton. Watching Lewis Hamilton rise through Mercedes was one of the greatest stories in modern sports. To me, he represented more than a driver. He represented transformation, discipline, elegance under pressure, and global inspiration.

Some people debate whether he is the greatest of all time. For me, he is.

When I heard he was moving to Ferrari, I was shocked. Ferrari is legendary. Beautiful. Historic. But Lewis and Mercedes had become emotionally connected in my mind. Still, that is the nature of business and competition. Evolution never stops.

Then came the F1 movie.

Suddenly Formula One reached another dimension. Cinema, technology, celebrity, storytelling, and engineering collided together. Brad Pitt entered the world of Formula One and helped expose the sport to even broader audiences globally. I have always admired Brad Pitt. Sometimes I compare him with Tom Cruise and laugh to myself because one always seems to be eating in movies while the other is always running. Both are icons in their own way.

But the deeper point was this.

Formula One had evolved beyond racing.

It became entertainment. Science. Global culture. Luxury. Media. National pride. Human drama. Engineering excellence.

The drivers themselves became something larger than athletes.

I began calling them Grand Astronauts.

Because that is what they are.

They operate machines at the edge of human capability while carrying the hopes of teams, nations, sponsors, engineers, and millions of fans. Even the final driver on the grid is still among the most elite performers on Earth. Formula One became one of humanity's greatest demonstrations of synchronized intelligence.

I followed this evolution my entire life.

And then I asked myself a question.

Could golf experience a similar transformation.

Not by destroying golf.

Not by disrespecting its traditions.

But by helping it evolve into a broader global entertainment and technology platform while preserving its integrity.

Golf is already one of the greatest sports in the world. The PGA and LPGA built extraordinary institutions that developed generations of legendary players. Golf possesses elegance, discipline, prestige, patience, and global respect.

But golf also remains difficult for many people to access.

It is expensive to learn.

Expensive to practice.

Expensive to enter.

Expensive to travel within.

Millions of people around the world admire golf without ever truly participating in its ecosystem. I understood that feeling personally because I lived it myself.

And then one day an idea arrived.

What if golf could borrow some of the structural energy of Formula One without losing its soul.

What if golf introduced persistent global teams.

What if technology created real time strategy systems between players, analysts, caddies, and coaches.

What if broadcasts became faster, smarter, more immersive, and more emotional.

What if pace of play became engineered instead of merely regulated.

What if golf could develop a global fixed grid system that created season long narratives similar to Formula One.

What if young fans connected emotionally to teams as much as players.

What if emerging markets became deeply involved.

What if golf became not only a sport, but a modern international experience.

That was the beginning of Leisure Golf Tournaments and Global G1.

Not an attack against golf.

Not a replacement for golf.

But an evolution platform for golf.

A bridge between tradition and innovation.

A way to honor the PGA and LPGA while introducing a new generation of audience engagement, technology, pace systems, team identity, and global participation.

I realized something important during this journey.

The future of sports belongs to systems.

Fans no longer consume sports the same way they once did. Audiences now seek immersion, storytelling, real time analytics, emotional connection, team identity, cinematic presentation, and digital engagement. Formula One understood this transformation brilliantly.

Golf can too.

Global G1 was born from love.

Love for Formula One.

Love for golf.

Love for engineering.

Love for systems.

Love for human performance.

Love for dreams that once felt unreachable.

Ironically, the games I never played became the games that inspired some of my greatest inventions.

Over the years, my life became deeply connected to patents, systems, and innovation. I never fully realized how significant some of my inventions had become until someone once told me in San Francisco that I had filed more patents than Steve Jobs. I remember asking how many patents Steve Jobs had. When I heard the number, I smiled quietly because I never pursued invention for recognition. I pursued invention because my imagination could never stop building.

That is the real heart of this story.

The child who could not afford Formula One or golf never stopped dreaming about them.

And perhaps that distance gave me a different perspective.

Sometimes the people outside the system can see possibilities that those inside the system cannot.

I believe by the year 2030 the world will witness a new evolution of golf and an even greater evolution of Formula One. Both sports will continue moving toward technology, global storytelling, immersive entertainment, engineering precision, and international audience expansion.

And somehow, after loving both worlds from afar for so many years, I finally found a way to enter them.

Not as a driver.

Not as a golfer.

But as an inventor.

This is the game I never played.

And perhaps that is exactly why I was able to imagine it differently.