exhaust-ed

Well, let us – again – bid a final farewell to the track in no man’s land, Magny-Cours, the Oklahoma of the F1 circuit. Bye bye. But I don’t leave with hard feelings. The minute around mid-race when I saw that pipe burning in a hole in the belly of Kimi’s Ferrari, I said – screamed – to myself, “not again!” Not another race lost from the lead, not another silver plate presented to the competition like we – me & Kimi – are a white-gloved butler who bows very deeply and begs “Sir, I must insist. Please accept this humble gift of ten points.”

Lo and behold, though, lo and bloody behold, the Ferrari just kept on going like the Husqvarna lawnmover I push around the garden, sputtering, yet cutting. There was nothing to do about little Massa, of course, but two points is a gift we can throw in the air like we just don’t care. We’ll take it back in Silverstone, anyway.
But if you thought I was sure the red number one car was going to break, if not before, then on the last lap like some sort of a reversed MacGuyver plot, you are spot on the money. I’ve been there before, and it is the kind of familiarity that breeds true contempt. This is why I celebrate second place like it fell from the sky.
No, I would not go so far as to call it luck, because he should have won like he would have won in Canada, if not. Yeah, if not. Whatever. And racing is racing… like that’s supposed to mean anything but filler material in post-race interviews…

I shan’t dwell. I’d like to, but shan’t. Instead, here’s one to Jarno Trulli. Steady job, signore. I know the late great Ove Andersson is loving it up there in racing heaven on cloud number nine. Godspeed, Swede.

To Lewis Hamilton: Man, don’t think we didn’t see you on that first lap. You were so out of control it was out of mind. Maybe you thought you were going to do a ‘Senna‘ and zap the traffic. But it was pure Jean-Louis Schlesser. [That’s code for “you suck”].

There will be no cheap shots at Nick Heidfeld today. That would be unsportsmanlike. Let’s just acknowledge the fact that Nico Rosberg will probably drive one of the Bimmers next year. Just guessing.

And that concludes another edition of hot vapor and poisonous fumes. Be well, or unwell, if you want, until we meet again.

3 thoughts on “exhaust-ed”

  1. Aw, man, that’s a bit harsh on Jean-Louis Schlesser there. He won the WSC twice with the beautiful Mercs. And the 1994 Race of Champions Classic Master title (yeah, that’s from wikipedia, I admit it – which brought me to the fact his uncle Jo did indeed suck. His best ever was tenth place in the ’66 Ring GP, his other two GPs resulted in deux DNFs. Things you probably never wanted to know. But hey, Uncle Jo raced Matra, and if there ever was a cool French car apart from the Facel Vega, there you go.).

    Nick Heidfeld is a bonk.
    As is Lewis “I’m pretending to date a Pussy Cat Doll, because the real deal is too dangerous, at least that’s what my dad said” Hamilton. I wonder what he’ll mess up in Silverstone when he’ll try to do things that at least five guys are better at thrice as hard, becuase it’s the British GP. Heck, even Alonso is better than Hamilton. And the spanish chorizo got beaten by the only guy who is in F1 for his looks. And his name.

  2. Oh, and one more thing: F1 will stay for another three years in Magny-whatever. I am not kidding, unfortunately.

  3. Harrharr! I do enjoy a well researched comment!

    Yea, my sentiments exactly, way in over his head. Ka-Plam! Boy Lewis “I think I’m Senna” will do something spectacularly stupido in Silverstone, I mean spectaaacularly stuuupido, can already smell the exchange of oily fluids… oh, the morbid anticipation hangs heavily, ripe with afternoon fear of carbon fiber in the air tonight. [Why did I suddenly think of Phil Collins? Incredibly strange.]

    What??? Do I have to go back to Magny-Fool three more times??? Aye, the gods are angry today!

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