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.