In September, the Riverstate members came together in Brandenburg to reward themselves with go-karting and good humor for a milestone they had finally reached after a long time.
What takes a long time … suddenly always turns out to be
Success is usually rewarded. In our case, however, it was long overdue.
For a year, we chased a goal that we had ambitiously set as the benchmark. For a year, we worked ourselves to the bone – recruiters, salespeople, support, management – phoned candidates until Telekom was dizzy, made passionate appeals that put all the success coaches on YouTube to shame, flooded the internet with job advertisements, acquired customers, and filled positions with the fervor of children playing musical chairs in a game of musical chairs. All to make our customers happy and, at the same time, achieve our common goal and finally collect the longed-for reward – the great Riverstate Kart Grand Prix in Templin.
We were often close and only a stone’s throw away, but the goal stood impregnable like the mountain fortress of the assassins.
It took about a year until it finally fell in May 2023. The fact that we’ve managed it every month since then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, is a phenomenon worthy of The X-Files, one that we can speculate and philosophize about for a long time.
In other words: We truly deserved it.
Preparation is everything
Planning for the big team event began immediately. The go-kart track was booked, and a suitable hotel nearby was sought, preferably with a lake view and all the amenities that an East German amusement resort, near which our former Chancellor spent her childhood, could offer.
Kimberly put in a lot of effort and made everything clear. On September 8th, the day arrived, and the Riverstate entourage arrived from all over Germany. All confident of victory, full of ambition, with fuel in their veins. You can’t expect to organize a race with a group of success-hungry managers, recruiters, and salespeople with the sole goal of having fun. Everyone was fired up, everyone wanted to win.
Reunions are a joy
Of course, the joy of seeing each other again was overwhelming. We’re spread across Germany, with hubs in Düsseldorf and Berlin. Many of us have only seen each other on screen for months or have never met in person. So it’s always nice to meet in the real world. We greeted each other in the bright sunshine under the wide, deep sky of Brandenburg.
But the next moment the preparations began: drinks and balaclavas were handed out, helmets were tried on, the track and karts were inspected, and people talked shop about curves and a strange invention called the brake pedal.
We were split into two groups because the field would have been too large otherwise. And the first group was already standing in front of the kart track, relaxed and easygoing like the players in the locker room before the Champions League final.
The man from the kart track gave a serious speech, covering trivialities like safety precautions, pit lane rules, and protecting one’s life. Then they pulled their helmets over their balaclavas and spread out among their karts.
Everyone tried to appear casual. “So? Have you ever driven before?” Dismissive gestures, shrugs. “Oh, maybe once in a while.” “Sometime as a child.” “No, never.” And just a moment later, they were flying around the track as if they’d been born in Formula 1 cars at the Nürburgring and nursed on kerosene.
The sun was shining, the tires squealed, and everyone was having a blast.
Then it was the second group’s turn, and the whole thing repeated. Each group had three runs in total. Twenty minutes to warm up and get familiar with the karts, twenty minutes of qualifying, and then twenty minutes of racing.
The Templin Grand Prix was in full swing.
There can only be one
After the warm-up, it was already clear that the race would be bloody. Miraculously, everyone survived unharmed and even with a smile on their faces.
Although there were two races, an overall ranking and an overall winner were determined at the end.
First place went to the surprise winner: Hendrik “Bleifrei” Petri. During the race, he had already impressed the riders in the other group with his straightforward driving style, who had watched him raptly from the stands as he welded himself into the seat and zipped around the track as if he had never done anything else in his life. Second place went to Max, who did everything right and made a worthy debut for the team at this event. Third place went to Michael, our COO, who, although he tried his best to appear relaxed, was probably secretly annoyed that the weeks of hard preparation and daily, secret practice on the track had only been enough for third place on the podium – or, as he put it, the “second loser’s place.” By the way, our CEO Marco set the fastest lap overall (because I love my job, I’d like to mention that briefly here;).
After the awards ceremony, everyone was supposed to gather at the winners’ podium for a group photo, but at first, no one was really keen. The reason: The three winners were holding bottles of champagne. The sun was shining, it was hot, and everyone was dreading the shower. Once it became clear that the champagne would rather be drunk than spilled, the group photo was taken, rounding off this part of the event in style.
Afterwards, everyone split up into their cars and headed back to the hotel.
Psychedelic Palace
The hotel was located just a few corners from the racetrack, taken at full speed. It looked like an East German prefab block disguised as a medieval fortress and brightly painted in a cloak-and-dagger operation by LSD-addled hippies (and that’s not an exaggeration, for once). It was enormous and seemed so complex, as if Erich Honecker had hired Daedalus as an architect and asked him to build a new labyrinth for the Minotaur in Brandenburg.
It had everything your heart could desire—from bingo nights to mini-golf to goat feeding. No, seriously, nothing was left to be desired (I can hear Yasmin saying in my mind, “Well, except for the style, maybe.”). A mini Las Vegas in the middle of Brandenburg.
The highlight was definitely the lake.
Sweaty and covered in oil, we stormed into the lobby like a pack of mechanics, with only one thing on our minds: quickly to our rooms, unpack our things, put on our bikinis and swimming trunks, and jump into the cool water. A half-hour of disappointment came with the queue at reception and the fact that, after our rush of speed, we suddenly seemed to have stumbled into a film running in slow motion – or a competition to see which hotel guest could write their name and address details on a form the slowest. But we overcame this hurdle with our usual nonchalance, as Michael persuaded the mini-bistro next to reception until it abruptly transformed into another reception desk for us.
Finally: the lake, the finest, white, Brandenburg sand, cool water, just the right temperature to cool our overheated engines.
The first drinks at the beach bar went down like a treat.
Aftershow
We’ve already mentioned that the hotel was huge. It also had more dining rooms than a cow’s stomachs. After showering, we met for dinner in one of these, aptly named “Brandenburg” and the size of an exhibition hall, and enjoyed a sumptuous buffet. Afterwards, we went to the beer garden outside the hotel, which had been reserved exclusively for us. Well, beer garden isn’t quite the right word; it was more like a hunting lodge or clubhouse with outdoor seating right on the edge of the forest, still within sight of the huge hotel, but on the very periphery. Outside, there was a fire, tables, and benches, and the bar inside was well-stocked, including a friendly lady who worked the taps and mixed the drinks. The perfect setting to round off this warm, eventful day.
After everyone had arrived, the festive atmosphere of the approaching night and the firelight was used to deliver speeches and eulogies, to express our thanks and to reflect on the successful months that lay behind us. Afterward, the woman behind the bar got busy.
The weather was still pleasant enough that we could sit outside until late into the night. The later the hour, the more lively the conversations became, covering a wide range of topics, from successfully organizing a workday and funny travel anecdotes to heated, scientifically based discussions about the effects of glutamate on the brain. A theory also arose that the hotel was actually a retirement home disguised as a hotel to provide its residents with a life of abundance and freedom from boredom.
We’re still not entirely sure whether one or two of them disappeared into this massive complex and, without finding a way out, lost themselves in the iniquitous Babylon of bingo, goat petting, and massive buffets. They’re welcome. In any case, most of them managed to leave the next morning after a hearty breakfast. If anyone ever claimed that Riverstate’s team events were legendary, they were right.
