The new edition of the Oxford Dictionary of English is out, and the vuvuzela steals the show. Most of the rest is a result of either climate change or the credit crunch. Nothing spectacular there, if you ask me.
Perhaps that’s why speculation is already rife about next year’s new entries. Well, my friends, I have a candidate: ecclestoning.
Ecclestoning is what’s done to visionary people who make a simple sport a runaway, global success, without paying too much attention to whingers and whiners along the way. Everybody becomes rich and famous but the whingers and whiners, vindictive and jealous malcontents as they are by nature, make a life’s effort of trying to stone the visionary for his efforts.
The visionary on his part has no choice but to become filthy rich in the process, as the continuous effort to escape stoning makes for a very expensive lifestyle. Private jets to stay ahead of the pack, super yachts for the quiet holidays along the Adriatic coast, and bodyguards to keep the malcontents at bay.
See here the story of my life. Continue reading
What’s the world coming to? BP can’t keep its oil in their wells, the American army spills documents on a biblical scale, and now even F1 isn’t safe any more. Bloody Germans got their greasy paws on next year’s classified Grand Prix list. No harm done as there aren’t any sensitive negotiation situations on the 2011 roster, but these things simply shouldn’t happen.
Imagine this would’ve happened with the race lineup for 2012 or ’13. Tavo and his friends would find out who else in the US we’re taking to. The Mayor of Sao Paulo would find out we’ve still got nothing in South Africa and continue letting Interlagos go to seed. The Europeans would find out who’ll get the boot when Moscow, Rome and the second US race come online.
And I’m not even mentioning the team bosses. Lazy buggers have only one goal in life, and that’s keeping the number of races as low as possible. God forbid they’d have to leave the office more than 20 times a year! ‘Bernie, the fans would get tired.’
The fans? For chrissakes, the fans’ll grab any chance they get to sink in front of the bleeding telly to curse Schumacher, idolise Hamilton or listen to Eddie Jordan’s drivel. A couple are lucky enough to buy a ticket to one or two races. Anything to escape from their boring lives and enter the glamorous, high-tech world of F1. Give them 25 races, we’ll sell them all!
But I digress. Memo to self: instruct Goran, my Head of Security, to put his lads on guard around the clock. Nobody gets in or out until the lineup has been finalised.
I’ve been reading all these blog comments on the Ferrari team order brouhaha, and it’s amazing how quickly people seem to end up with blaming me.
Just to avoid any misunderstanding: I’m the Formula One Supremo. I’m not the boss of everything in F1. There’s a difference. Let me explain.
To begin with, I don’t call the shots in the teams. That’s the job of the team bosses. So if Ferrari issues team orders, it’s types like Luca di Montezemelemololo or Stefano Domenicali who are responsible for that. Not me. I may have an opinion about it (more about that later), but that’s another matter.
If you are now wondering who’s the real boss in Formula One if it isn’t me, just look at my simple F1 organisation chart. It’s you.
You, my beloved legion of fans, my loyal audience, are the real boss. So everything that happens in F1 is ultimately your responsibility. I’m merely the humble Supremo who does your bidding and makes sure, one way or another, that the rest falls in line.
But Bernie, I hear you ask, you have never had a real education. How did you arrive at this bold conclusion? What kind of management theory underpins your statement? Well, my friends, I have a simple answer for that too. For I am above all a practical person. It is strict adherence to management practice that has brought me to where I am now. And management practice can be described in two words: Continue reading
I guess if opinions are like arseholes, blown opinions are like blown rear ends.
Case in question: rebuilding Silverstone. Was it only February when Hill was blowing nothing but criticism out of his rear end? What was it he said? “I have the idea of my perfect, fantasy track and that’s not what we are building.”
So now we’re in July and Mr Damon Baron von Munchhill is basking in the glory of the first Grand Prix on the new circuit. “I’ve just driven it and there are some lovely new corners. It’s going to be pretty exciting. It’s retained the high speed nature of Silverstone and there are some really great new places to watch from – you can tell that even when you’re driving around.
Keep going, Damon. You’re doing fine. Maybe a bit quick on the draw but you did get there in the end. I guess I’m the tortoise and you’re the hare, then.
This is ridiculous. I haven’t posted on my blog for a week or two and promptly I need to deny rumours of my death or retirement. Which in my case is synonymous, if you missed my interview with Bild am Sonntag.
It’s actually quite funny, if you have my sense of humour. The krauts’ headline was actually ‘Bernie reveals his new love’ but apparently the English media were more obsessed with reports of my death. Which were an exaggeration, as the famous English poet Mark Twain said.
“I’d die if I retired,” headlined Autocar. Their German isn’t that good apparently, because what I actually said was “To retire means to die” as Crash.net and most of the others blurbed. There’s a difference, you know.
But anyway, the most important message is out: I’m very much alive, thank you. Alive and kicking around with my newfound love Fabiana. And this may sound complicated to many of you, but no it’s not this Fabiana. I keep private and work strictly separate. Although it’s convenient that they have the same name, of course.
I know these are difficult times. You’ve been bailing out banks, car companies and insurance conglomerates, to the tune of trillions of dollars. You’ve been hit by a recession, you’re almost singlehandedly supporting two wars and now there’s a whole gulf to clean up as well. Sometimes I wonder how you manage. I’m glad I’m not an economist.
That’s why I appreciate it all the more that you still can find time and the odd couple of millions to make sure we at Formula One Management have enough income from the new US Grand Prix. Starting a whole new event is risky, especially in view of the fact that you need to guarantee our annual 25 million dollar fee before a single ticket has been sold. I know, that doesn’t make it any easier.
But in the spirit of the true American entrepreneur you’ll go for it, against all odds. I appreciate that, I really do. You see, I too was once an entrepreneur. Now I’m a billionaire Formula One supremo and I’m glad I don’t need to take that kind of risk any more.
It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.
Thanks to dear reader Lisa, who felt compelled to share this after our little insights into Australia’s brilliant way with tourism advertising.
FYI, like Ron Walker, our Melbourne circuit sits somewhere in the middle between convicts and giant spiders.