Jean Todt’s been visiting Peru. Or was it Bolivia? Anyway, seems he had a
Presidential cuppa in the Presidential Palace and this simple fact has set the journo crowd completely abuzz.
Will there be a Peruvian Grand Prix? Or Bolivian, I mean? Or even a Gran Precio de las Americas? Fodder for another score of articles and blog posts, each one copying the other. It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to get the swarm of locusts going.
Here’s a nice one for you: I’m thinking about a holiday in the Maldives. Now isn’t that a nice place for a Grand Prix? Forget about 20 races. Let’s go for 40!
Tilke’s already done a little artist’s impression. Looks great, doesn’t it? Long live the rumour mill. Journos be grateful, I just did you another favour.
Stopover in Delhi on the way to Sing, did a quick run around the construction site, just to let the lads know the master’s keeping an eye on progress. On the way there I saw at least a million ticket-buyers-to-be. And no, it was not a rickshaw ride like this one.
A circuit under construction surrounded by a billion new fans always gets me in a good mood, so I was nice to the Times of India journo that wanted to interview me. Had a bit of fun with him, too. Told him I actually thought sixteen races was an ideal season. Twenty is plenty, I said, and the bugger penned it down dutifully. That’ll get the rumour mill going.
You can just wait for the nervous circuit owners to start calling me. And lovely calls they will be. “Bernie, you’ll keep some room for us on the calendar, won’t you?” “An F1 season without [fill in Hellhole with a claim to fame] is utterly unthinkable, isn’t it Bernie?” Believe me, this is going to make the next set of negotiations a lot easier. Yes, it was a fine day.
And now off to another great night race in Singapore.
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.
Here’s a nice picture of the future Austin circuit, including elevation differences. Tilke’s using the hilly terrain to re-create some of the famous turns in F1, plus a couple of stretches where overtaking will be relatively easy.
Trust some miserable journos to turn this into a disadvantage. Here’s a piece from Richard Williams over at The Guardian, trying to argue that a) they don’t make circuits like they used to any more and b) if they do, it’s pathetic because they shouldn’t. Calls the Austin track a ‘karaoke circuit.’
Listen, journos, if you got out of the wrong side of the bed because the missus denied you sex once again, don’t take it out on us. We’re trying to make an honest living here. And spare me the drivel about racing on ‘what were originally public roads also follows the hills and valleys sculpted over millennia by wind, water and geology among the pine forests of the Ardennes.’ What are you trying to say? We should convert ancient public roads and pristine hill forests into circuits for the truly pastoral F1 experience? Have you ever heard an F1 engine rip by at 18,000rpm? What do you want, feng shui circuits?
It never ceases to amaze me how morons like that keep their journo jobs. Small wonder newspapers have difficulty surviving in modern times.
On a positive note, it’s great to see that Tilke, on the other hand, does know how to do his job. Do you see that hump on the far left, between turns 11 and 12? Hermann put it especially in there to make overtaking like this possible.
Austin, here we come!
Talk about wind socks. I can still vividly remember the outrage about team orders when Barrichello had to let Schumacher pass for points, in Austria in 2002. People were baying for blood and the FIA, finding out there was nothing illegal here, slapped a million dollar fine on the lot of them for podium abuse. Those were the days, my friend.
Anyway, thought that was clear. So who can describe my utter astonishment when I see morons like Martin Brundle, who of all people should know better, blathering about how Ferrari should’ve told Massa to let Alonso pass so he could attack Kubica and Button.
Alonso's head on this platter, please
Massa? Letting Alonso pass? Have you taken leave of your senses, Martin? So far things ‘ve been fairly civilised, with Felipe and Fernando being the biggest pals in the world and all that crap, especially when the TV cameras are running and the little red light is on. But we’re all waiting for the explosion. Except Brundle, apparently.
This is what you get when race drivers become bloody journos. Not only do they report, they also have an opinion. And the worst is yet to come. The BBC are now grooming David ‘Pundit’ Coulthard to be their next star. Almost makes me think of retirement.
Unbelievable how it was just one week ago that everyone and his brother predicted the death of F1. And now all of a sudden F1 ‘has produced a classic’, the race was spot-on and everyone’s forgotten Bahrain boredom.
Journos are a bunch of wind bags. It’s natural – otherwise they would’ve chosen a real profession. But who knew that the bloggers, the so-called heroes of new media, would be worse? They don’t deserve to be called wind bags. They’re a bunch of bloody wind socks.
You can always tell. It’s when he starts buggering around with the press (OK, pun intended). First he calls up the Times that the International Luge Federation (yes, there is one) is where F1 was 40 years ago, and if Max would’ve been at the helm luges would have crash zones and so would the tracks and the poor Georgian lad wouldn’t’ve gotten himself killed. The Times prints this, of course. Max still has them eating out of his hand. But it turns out he’s a bit out of the game because it’s old Sir Jackie who gets the mug shot in the article.
So he invites half a dozen journos for lunch to feed them some more Maxisms. No he has no scores to settle, Ferrari are like a middle aged woman who’s not getting enough sex attention, Briatore’s guilty as Hell where he may burn forever, and Max is still not sure whether Alonso wasn’t in on the plot. Continue reading
Sigh. I can see this coming. Ever since Michael ‘Giraffe’ Shoemaker thought about stepping in to replace Massa and then didn’t on account of his neck, the press has been all over one thing, and one thing only. Believe you me, we haven’t heard the last of The Neck by a long stretch (no pun intended).
Take the other day. Hardly has the Saviour of All Germans done two laps in Jerez, Continue reading
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