Dear Singaporeans, I was trying to praise you when I said I’d love to see a Grand Prix here for another twenty years.
But what do I get? The cold shoulder. A grumpy “we’ll-see-if we’ll-do-more-than-five-after-we’ve-done-all-the-calculations.”
This is not how it’s supposed to go. Race organisers are supposed to grovel and prostrate themselves, after which I extract extraordinary sums from them in return for the honour to host the ultimate event for a number of years determined by me. If they behave.
Is this a prelude to using the very negotiating tactics on me that I’ve come to know and love? That I’ve honed to perfection in the course of more than half a century? Next thing you know the Singaporean Government’ll be at my door, saying all right Mr E, we’ve thought about it and you can tentatively have a Singapore Grand Prix for another precious five years and here’re our conditions, now be a good boy?
Not a shadow of a chance, Singapore Inc. There’s no way on Earth that’s ever going to happen, or my name would not be Bernie Ecclestone. I have to think of my reputation as the indisputable Supremo of Formula One.
Note to self: sound out my old friend Donald Tsang. Plant the idea that Hong Kong would benefit from a harbourside Grand Prix in, let’s see, two years time. Hmm, let me think – a night race. Yes, that’d be great. Can you imagine the backdrop, with the greatest skyline in the world?
That’ll teach ’em.