Just got a call from Zoran Stefanovich. Apparently watching the on-track excitement of late has the same effect on him as it has on Flavio: he’s dying to get his share of the fun. Stefan GP’s botched entry into F1 has been marred by bad luck and mistakes; and to add insult to injury, FIA’ve reopened the selection process to fill the vacancy left by the US F1 morons in 2011, forcing him to start over from zero.
So for Stefan’s benefit, and all those who’ve rediscovered their boyhood ambitions to become part of the pinnacle of propulsion, the apex of automotive entertainment, the ultimate pleasure of racing the world’s most advanced automobiles around the world’s most consummate circuits (we get it, we get it – ed.): here are the five golden rules for aspiring teams to get themselves a slot or two on the grid.
He wants back in. Seems after two exciting races Mr I’m-a-Buffoon-So-What? has come to the conclusion that F1 has become interesting enough for his personal involvement again. Says he’s getting fat and flabby and he needs some exercise. I tell him I’ve no idea what he means. He’s been fat and flabby as long as I can remember. He says yes, but it’s getting worse. Elisabetta’s started to complain. ‘Personally I think look good, but, you know, women…’
Word of advice, Flavio, I said. You and I go back quite a long time, and you know I’ll personally support any comeback you get into your thick head. But with that in mind I aired the idea a couple of days ago, with the same result as airing one of those deeply satisfying farts after one of your giant Italian business lunches. Makes you feel good but sends everybody else running for the trenches.
Listen, I know you don’t care a single bit for what the rest of the world thinks. But I had a quick word about you with Jean Todt and the thought alone makes him reach for a twelve gauge shotgun. ‘Flavio must be punished,’ he keeps saying. Sounds a bit like Max, maybe, but he means it. Keeping F1 Briatore-free seems to be part of the job description at FIA these days. Do me a favour, Flavio, and stay out of his sights for a while.
Flavio sighed and said yes Bernie, I’ll think it over, and rang off.
I know better. Thinking is not his strong suit. Mark my words, we haven’t heard the last of this.
Believe me, my friends, the girl is brilliant. Without her astuteness in all matters IT you would not be able to read this blog, share your thoughts with me on Twitter, or enjoy my Facebook page. (And please don’t ask me what all these things mean, but the younger generation seems to understand. Or, more appropriately, they ‘get it’, as Fabiana tells me.)
So now she’s bought this new gizmo. It’s called an ‘iPad’. Personally I think the practical joker who got away with giving it that name deserves a life size April Fools statue, but apparently here’s something the younger generation does not ‘get’. Language moves in mysterious ways.
Anyway, this new gadget consists only of a screen. Continue reading