The mystery of how a 14-year-old boy gets to drive a Ferrari 458 Italia

Driving a Ferrari 458 Italia is like tasting a 1985 Sassicaia. If you took a swig of the acclaimed red wine in your early years, all you'd think is a jug of Arbor Mist from Walmart would be around $1,490 cheaper and get you just as buzzed.

But as one matures, so do one's taste buds. The smallest sip of Sassicaia now transforms what you believe a well-rounded red should be. Your opinion of wine; what makes one good; what makes one special, changes. After years of necking cheap wine boxes, you appreciate the search for perfection in a way you never could in your youth.

And that's what the Ferrari 458 Italia is: Perfection, that should be earned. Watching a 14-year-old British boy tool around in Modena's finest makes me question not just whether he can, but whether he should.

As a driver, I believe you should be forced to work your way up the automotive world. It should be a law: Everyone should learn how to drive in a dented hatchback with torn seats, preferably smelling of wet pets. Progressing up the ladder should be thrilling, experiencing newfound greatness with each vehicular step. That way, if you ever meet a wealthy enthusiast with a fancy supercar who's foolish enough to let you behind the wheel, you truly appreciate the magnitude of what you're driving — the engineering, the craftsmanship, the history.