A little while ago I was worried that Luca de Montezemelemololo started behaving suspiciously like Il Commendatore. I was wrong. He hasn’t become the Commendatore; he’s become the Godfather of the Scuderia.
Poor Felipe found out the hard way. He was picked up immediately after Suzuka by a bloke in a bad suit and brought to Don Luca, who told his second number one driver in no uncertain terms: “I’m sorry Felipe, you were certainly not lucky this weekend: I’m sure that you will be the surprise of the last three races of the season. After this bad day you will be desperately keen to react and we will do everything to give you the possibility to win. Capisce?
I’m certain Felipe understood this message. He will be a strongly motivated number one driver indeed.
Starting from the back, on a narrow street circuit, with a car that’s markedly faster than at least half the field before you: what’s a second driver to do?
Domenicali was very clear: Felipe, you have to get to the front as quickly as possible because Alonso needs all the help he can get. So there was only one answer, really. The engineers worked through the night, and here it is.
Brilliant. Also takes care of the Singapore Sling, so kills two birds with one stone. Not sure it’s legal, though.
But hey, it’s Ferrari.
The verdict is out, the hysterics are over. The journos and, worse, the pundits had their day. Ferrari are guilty, and the $100,000 fine just happened to be the correct punishment. Kudos to the Hockenheim race stewards. Oh and team orders will be reviewed.
Moving on, people. Nothing to see here.
… One of those two grumpy old guys on the balcony, to be precise. Statler or Waldorf, I never know which is which.
It’s been at the back of my mind for a while now and EJ himself finally alerted me to it. Called me up today, during a break in the World Motorsport Council Meeting, and started ranting about how Ferrari had treated us all like muppets and should be punished severely, Max Mosley-style.
I said, you mean with a whip? Convict Luca de Montezemelemololo to seven strokes of the cane, like they do in Singapore?
No Bernie, you know what I mean. They should be told who’s boss and it’s not them. If we let them get away with this, who knows where it’s going to end? Ferrari telling FIA to stick their rules where the sun doesn’t shine? Alonso telling the track marshals to blue flag everyone ahead of him so he has right of way all the way to the finish? Domenicali commandeering the pit lane when a Ferrari car’s about to pit? Bernie, you have to stop this here and now!
I said sorry Eddie, meeting’s about to start again. Talk to you later. Calm down and take one of those little pills, be a good boy.
Today is Alonso’s birthday. If you were wondering what Massa gave him, he just told me: it’s one of these fake road workers with a slowdown arm signal. He intends to put it out on the track, just before Alonso goes out in first practice.
Great sense of humour, Felipe has. My guess is Fernando doesn’t completely share it.
“Bernie,” he says. “Ferrari is innocent. Can you confirm you understand that message?”
Perhaps, I say, but do you understand that there are about 25 others on the World Motor Sport Council?
“Many of them have already been taken care of, Bernie,” he says. “It’s not been cheap, but they understand. Ferrari is acting in a long tradition that started in the old days, with Il Commendatore sending drivers to their deaths from his command post in Maranello. Theirs is not to reason why, theirs is but to do and die. Nowadays we don’t send them to die anymore, but they’re still supposed to do as we say. For sure everybody understands.”
Suddenly things start to fall into place. The sunglasses, the fact that he hardly attends races any more, the oath of undying loyalty he’s had everybody in the scuderia, from the lowliest garage floor sweeper to Stefano Domenicali, swear on an autographed portrait of the old man.
We have a new Enzo in our midst.
In related news, the Pope is still a Catholic. Just to avoid any misunderstanding: photo shows the new team in last year’s Ferraris.
Just got back from the annual Ferrari and Ducati ski do in the Italian Alps, or as I like to call it, the Ultimate Italian Motor Racing Wankathon.
Might sound like fun but I assure you there’s nothing funny whatsoever about a bunch of Italians getting pissed in the snow. Or it should be the army of journalists they invited as well, who’re getting even more pissed. To make it even worse, they make everyone wear Ferrari gear so you end up looking like a giant group of sloshed red and white dorks.
But there’s something to say for going there and staying sober. Continue reading