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A Top Ten Guide to Donington, Great Britain, 2008
10. Colin Edwards. The Texan ‘wafting Wally’ might be a devoted family man and all-around good guy, but don’t think for a moment that gets him a pass mark here. Sure, he finished a solid, come-from-mid-pack fourth, but once again his post-race comments are a head-scratcher. For a guy who’s renowned as being a development and set-up guru, he complains far too many times that “the bike was really hard to ride at the beginning, it felt strange and I couldn’t do anything with it.” And there’s also his ‘special’ relationship with Michelin, “the tyres were all wrong, I had an issue with the front” etc., etc. If a guy who couldn’t develop a turd after eating a dodgy curry can have a successful post-race test in Catalunya, and then go on to blitz the field at Donington, what does that say about you, Wally? At least the string of recent mid top ten finishes justifies the number 5 on your bike, I guess...
9. James Toseland. A home GP does funny things to some riders. Some go from consistent mid-packer/podium placer to front-runner and race winner; some win their home GP once or twice, then never do anything else the rest of their career; some win it like they win everywhere else; some never win, despite countless attempts; and some never even get a home race at all. I'll bet that James 'Jim, Jimmy, Jimbo, Jim-bob, JT' Toseland is wishing he was in the later category after his Epic Fail at Donington.
8. Ben Spies. He was appropriately humble, thankful of the opportunity; low-key and realistic in his approach, not expecting or demanding too much... wait a minute! Are we sure this guy is really from Texas? Now 14th place on debut doesn’t sound like much... and it sounds like even less when you realise that Westy and both Team Alice riders finished in front of him, Hopkins suffered more comedy gold at the hands of Team Snot, de Angelis de binned it, Toseland choked, and Marco is riding around at Imre Toth-pace. Still, everyone can see that the potential is there—especially Loris ‘....-you-it’s-my-seat’ Capirossi, who rushed back into action at Assen. The future looks bright for Mr. Speeees; it’s just a shame than ‘ben’ means faeces in Japanese.
7. Donington Park. Race fans in other countries could learn a lot from the British. Their impeccable behaviour—that famed combination of British reserve and manners—impressed all who saw it, and subsequently has been much remarked upon. During the podium ceremony, there was polite applause for the 3rd-placed rider (even though he’s a greasy Continental), and very generous applause (including cheering cries of ‘pip, pip’ ‘hurrah’ and ‘Well done, sir. I say, well done, old chap: simply splendid!’) for the 2nd-placed finisher (another greasy Continental, although despite that he is a very popular fellow, who resided in London for many years, in a failed effort to ease his tax burden). When the race winner—a cheery young lad from colony of New South Wales—was presented to the crowd every man, woman and child put down their cups of tea and rose to salute him with much heat and vigour. To say that this young man was taken aback by the crowds’ response is understating the matter considerably. However, it is foolish to suggest there was any undercurrent of anti-colonial sentiment running through the crowd... why, many distinguished gentlemen rushed onto the track in their enthusiasm to congratulate the colony of Queensland’s Christopher Vermeulen as he crossed the finishing line at race conclusion. Some 80,000 others followed in a delightful expression of goodwill towards their racing heroes.
6. Jorge Lorenzo. Having scored zero out of a possible fifty points during the last two rounds, and seeing his championship chances disappear faster than copies of his biography are being remaindered, J-lo has become a shadow of his former self; as though the concussion he suffered at Catalunya knocked all the ego out of him. In an effort to turn things around, he reverted to his look-at-me, look-at-me gold kit, but it didn’t help in a wet qualifying session, with only Toni ‘I-never-touch-water-fish-....-in-it’ Elias keeping him from the bottom of the heap. It was a different story on race day, however. On more than one occasion this year, boy Jorge expressed the hope that he could learn from Vale this season; he was obviously taking notes from hospital during the Catalunya race, where Rossi put on his clinic on how to pass riders masterfully, but still finish miles behind the race winner, and it paid dividends for Lorenzo. Scything through 10 riders (okay, so Melandri wasn’t exactly a challenge, and you can hardly count de Angelis and Toseland) to finish in 6th meant he made more successful textbook passes in one race than Pedrosa and Hayden combined in their entire MotoGP careers.
5. Marco Melandri. Mr. 33 and 1/3 (coincidently, it’s also the amount of RPMs he can manage on his Ducati, before he gets scared of the TC) is like a scratched and broken record, stuttering and slipping his way around circuits the world over, forever doomed to be off the pace, out of sync, and with not even enough rhythm to be sampled in a rap song. How long will his purgatory last? Probably until Gibernau gets back from the fat farm after the summer break. He went straight home after the race at Donington, too depressed to even stop by and collect his first ‘Westy’ for the season.
4. Nicky Hayden. Running in the top 5 in the early laps, before dropping down the order and finishing 7th? You could have done that using the spring valve engine! I do have to ask, though: a warning light flashes on your bike and you don’t have the faintest idea what’s wrong—beyond... uhhh, dude, that’s not good? First we have Stoner in Estoril not knowing what the onboard camera was, and now this? Maybe we are at the stage where you could strap a monkey to a bike and make them ride it—it seems a monkey would know just as much about how the bike works...
3. Dani Pedrosa. You blew it, little man. Big time. You had a faster bike than Rossi, and were clearly being held up by the once-was-a-world-champion-Italian. Pass attempt number one only stuck for about three turns before Rossi came straight back (no doubt worried that if he didn’t you would probably gap him). Okay, no problem. Lather, rinse, repeat, next time round... and this time you made pass attempt number two stick for half a lap... until you developed a sudden case of the Gibernau’s at the Fogarty Esses. Okay, a set back, but no problem. Regain the lost ground: lather, rinse, repeat. But that never happened, because you gave up, didn’t you, you sniveling little worm. Don’t you dare try and blame tyre wear; that excuse is so Valentino Rossi and 2007. While you ponder your lack of fight, Dani, consider this: you’re 11 points down on Rossi, Stoner is 45 behind—but Bet.and.win.com have you at exactly the same odds for the championship...
2. Valentino Rossi. Rossi probably won his 100th Grand Prix, so I guess it was fitting that he came second for his 200th race. 2nd on the grid, 2nd into the first turn (2nd at Catalunya)... quite the theme Vale is developing there... he’s not cruising towards the championship, is he? Nah... he’s too much of a racer to do that. Stoner must’ve out ridden him, then.
1. Casey Stoner. Remember Valencia, 2006, Casey? No, I’m not talking about the moment when Nicky kissed his mother on the lips. And not the moment when Vale threw away the world championship, either. I’m talking about a certain incident in practice: you baulked Pedrosa when he was on a hot lap—and he tore you a new arsehole over it (figuratively speaking, of course; the only arsehole tearing that happens around Dani is when Puig is in a foul mood). You felt so small that day, that Pedrosa was able to look you in the eye. So how about cutting other riders some slack if they dare to get in the way on ‘your’ racetrack?
Why does everyone at Donington hate you? Allow me to present my findings: You never fail to hide your intense dislike of the circuit, and always give the impression that you’d much rather be somewhere else... anywhere else. You only smile when you win, or take pole, etc. You act like everyone else is in your way... other riders, fans, officials, journalists. You care what people think and say about you, but not enough to change your behaviour.
What can you do to win them over (assuming you really want to try)? Like any nationality, Brits are insecure about their country when ‘famous’ foreigners come to visit. Try telling them you like the place, and are happy to be here. Don’t be so obsessed with being the fastest from the first lap of practice; wanting to be like Mick will inevitably give you grey hairs at 25 and the ability to set off metal detectors around the world, just by looking at them. Tell Toby Moody it sucks that he’s lost his job for next year (even if you are happy that one of the biggest egos in the fourth estate might have a lower profile next season). Don’t think of interaction with fans as a tedious chore; remember, indirectly, they’re the ones paying your salary. Look up ‘sense of humour’ in a dictionary and take remedial classes in how to develop one. I could go on and on, so to sum up: take that carrot out of your arse, and lighten the .... up.
But at the end of the day, if you have to be a miserable prick in order to dominate practice in the wet and dry, take pole, and win a flag-to-flag race by almost six seconds over the G.O.A.T. (who could do nothing but watch you disappear), then at least learn to take your lumps—and be thankful that with Pedrosa on the grid, there’s someone else who’s a bigger lightning rod for dislike and criticism.
Saying that ‘Big Ben’ is a tourist attraction in London has been making Japanese children laugh for years beyond count; toilet humour... I love it!
10. Colin Edwards. The Texan ‘wafting Wally’ might be a devoted family man and all-around good guy, but don’t think for a moment that gets him a pass mark here. Sure, he finished a solid, come-from-mid-pack fourth, but once again his post-race comments are a head-scratcher. For a guy who’s renowned as being a development and set-up guru, he complains far too many times that “the bike was really hard to ride at the beginning, it felt strange and I couldn’t do anything with it.” And there’s also his ‘special’ relationship with Michelin, “the tyres were all wrong, I had an issue with the front” etc., etc. If a guy who couldn’t develop a turd after eating a dodgy curry can have a successful post-race test in Catalunya, and then go on to blitz the field at Donington, what does that say about you, Wally? At least the string of recent mid top ten finishes justifies the number 5 on your bike, I guess...
9. James Toseland. A home GP does funny things to some riders. Some go from consistent mid-packer/podium placer to front-runner and race winner; some win their home GP once or twice, then never do anything else the rest of their career; some win it like they win everywhere else; some never win, despite countless attempts; and some never even get a home race at all. I'll bet that James 'Jim, Jimmy, Jimbo, Jim-bob, JT' Toseland is wishing he was in the later category after his Epic Fail at Donington.
8. Ben Spies. He was appropriately humble, thankful of the opportunity; low-key and realistic in his approach, not expecting or demanding too much... wait a minute! Are we sure this guy is really from Texas? Now 14th place on debut doesn’t sound like much... and it sounds like even less when you realise that Westy and both Team Alice riders finished in front of him, Hopkins suffered more comedy gold at the hands of Team Snot, de Angelis de binned it, Toseland choked, and Marco is riding around at Imre Toth-pace. Still, everyone can see that the potential is there—especially Loris ‘....-you-it’s-my-seat’ Capirossi, who rushed back into action at Assen. The future looks bright for Mr. Speeees; it’s just a shame than ‘ben’ means faeces in Japanese.
7. Donington Park. Race fans in other countries could learn a lot from the British. Their impeccable behaviour—that famed combination of British reserve and manners—impressed all who saw it, and subsequently has been much remarked upon. During the podium ceremony, there was polite applause for the 3rd-placed rider (even though he’s a greasy Continental), and very generous applause (including cheering cries of ‘pip, pip’ ‘hurrah’ and ‘Well done, sir. I say, well done, old chap: simply splendid!’) for the 2nd-placed finisher (another greasy Continental, although despite that he is a very popular fellow, who resided in London for many years, in a failed effort to ease his tax burden). When the race winner—a cheery young lad from colony of New South Wales—was presented to the crowd every man, woman and child put down their cups of tea and rose to salute him with much heat and vigour. To say that this young man was taken aback by the crowds’ response is understating the matter considerably. However, it is foolish to suggest there was any undercurrent of anti-colonial sentiment running through the crowd... why, many distinguished gentlemen rushed onto the track in their enthusiasm to congratulate the colony of Queensland’s Christopher Vermeulen as he crossed the finishing line at race conclusion. Some 80,000 others followed in a delightful expression of goodwill towards their racing heroes.
6. Jorge Lorenzo. Having scored zero out of a possible fifty points during the last two rounds, and seeing his championship chances disappear faster than copies of his biography are being remaindered, J-lo has become a shadow of his former self; as though the concussion he suffered at Catalunya knocked all the ego out of him. In an effort to turn things around, he reverted to his look-at-me, look-at-me gold kit, but it didn’t help in a wet qualifying session, with only Toni ‘I-never-touch-water-fish-....-in-it’ Elias keeping him from the bottom of the heap. It was a different story on race day, however. On more than one occasion this year, boy Jorge expressed the hope that he could learn from Vale this season; he was obviously taking notes from hospital during the Catalunya race, where Rossi put on his clinic on how to pass riders masterfully, but still finish miles behind the race winner, and it paid dividends for Lorenzo. Scything through 10 riders (okay, so Melandri wasn’t exactly a challenge, and you can hardly count de Angelis and Toseland) to finish in 6th meant he made more successful textbook passes in one race than Pedrosa and Hayden combined in their entire MotoGP careers.
5. Marco Melandri. Mr. 33 and 1/3 (coincidently, it’s also the amount of RPMs he can manage on his Ducati, before he gets scared of the TC) is like a scratched and broken record, stuttering and slipping his way around circuits the world over, forever doomed to be off the pace, out of sync, and with not even enough rhythm to be sampled in a rap song. How long will his purgatory last? Probably until Gibernau gets back from the fat farm after the summer break. He went straight home after the race at Donington, too depressed to even stop by and collect his first ‘Westy’ for the season.
4. Nicky Hayden. Running in the top 5 in the early laps, before dropping down the order and finishing 7th? You could have done that using the spring valve engine! I do have to ask, though: a warning light flashes on your bike and you don’t have the faintest idea what’s wrong—beyond... uhhh, dude, that’s not good? First we have Stoner in Estoril not knowing what the onboard camera was, and now this? Maybe we are at the stage where you could strap a monkey to a bike and make them ride it—it seems a monkey would know just as much about how the bike works...
3. Dani Pedrosa. You blew it, little man. Big time. You had a faster bike than Rossi, and were clearly being held up by the once-was-a-world-champion-Italian. Pass attempt number one only stuck for about three turns before Rossi came straight back (no doubt worried that if he didn’t you would probably gap him). Okay, no problem. Lather, rinse, repeat, next time round... and this time you made pass attempt number two stick for half a lap... until you developed a sudden case of the Gibernau’s at the Fogarty Esses. Okay, a set back, but no problem. Regain the lost ground: lather, rinse, repeat. But that never happened, because you gave up, didn’t you, you sniveling little worm. Don’t you dare try and blame tyre wear; that excuse is so Valentino Rossi and 2007. While you ponder your lack of fight, Dani, consider this: you’re 11 points down on Rossi, Stoner is 45 behind—but Bet.and.win.com have you at exactly the same odds for the championship...
2. Valentino Rossi. Rossi probably won his 100th Grand Prix, so I guess it was fitting that he came second for his 200th race. 2nd on the grid, 2nd into the first turn (2nd at Catalunya)... quite the theme Vale is developing there... he’s not cruising towards the championship, is he? Nah... he’s too much of a racer to do that. Stoner must’ve out ridden him, then.
1. Casey Stoner. Remember Valencia, 2006, Casey? No, I’m not talking about the moment when Nicky kissed his mother on the lips. And not the moment when Vale threw away the world championship, either. I’m talking about a certain incident in practice: you baulked Pedrosa when he was on a hot lap—and he tore you a new arsehole over it (figuratively speaking, of course; the only arsehole tearing that happens around Dani is when Puig is in a foul mood). You felt so small that day, that Pedrosa was able to look you in the eye. So how about cutting other riders some slack if they dare to get in the way on ‘your’ racetrack?
Why does everyone at Donington hate you? Allow me to present my findings: You never fail to hide your intense dislike of the circuit, and always give the impression that you’d much rather be somewhere else... anywhere else. You only smile when you win, or take pole, etc. You act like everyone else is in your way... other riders, fans, officials, journalists. You care what people think and say about you, but not enough to change your behaviour.
What can you do to win them over (assuming you really want to try)? Like any nationality, Brits are insecure about their country when ‘famous’ foreigners come to visit. Try telling them you like the place, and are happy to be here. Don’t be so obsessed with being the fastest from the first lap of practice; wanting to be like Mick will inevitably give you grey hairs at 25 and the ability to set off metal detectors around the world, just by looking at them. Tell Toby Moody it sucks that he’s lost his job for next year (even if you are happy that one of the biggest egos in the fourth estate might have a lower profile next season). Don’t think of interaction with fans as a tedious chore; remember, indirectly, they’re the ones paying your salary. Look up ‘sense of humour’ in a dictionary and take remedial classes in how to develop one. I could go on and on, so to sum up: take that carrot out of your arse, and lighten the .... up.
But at the end of the day, if you have to be a miserable prick in order to dominate practice in the wet and dry, take pole, and win a flag-to-flag race by almost six seconds over the G.O.A.T. (who could do nothing but watch you disappear), then at least learn to take your lumps—and be thankful that with Pedrosa on the grid, there’s someone else who’s a bigger lightning rod for dislike and criticism.
Saying that ‘Big Ben’ is a tourist attraction in London has been making Japanese children laugh for years beyond count; toilet humour... I love it!
