Sometimes you write because you have something to say.
Sometimes you write because you're responding to something.
Sometimes you write for your own amusement.
Sometimes you just can't stop. .... me, I can't believe this entry is over 8,000 words long...
A Top Ten mini-essay look at the 2013 season so far...
10. Valentino "If I ride like this in 2014, how much of a pay cut will I have to take to get a new contract from Yamaha?" Rossi
The staggering fact about His Rossifuminess' return to Yamaha in 2013 is not that he's only won a single race this season--it's how the hell did he even manage to win at Assen? Sure, J-Lo was riding with one hand tied behind his back (and Pedders had a curiously off weekend) but both Crutchslowstarter and the f-GOAT had shown the pace throughout practice and qualifying to make things much more interesting at the pointy end than eventuated. Nakagami fervently wishes he could be gifted a win so easily.
Occasionally, Rossi (When he's really trying? When he's pushing harder than feels comfortable? When Burgess and/or Jarvis have told him to stop moaning about riding a bike developed for J-Lo and pull his finger out?) looks like his old self; his body language and position on the bike reminiscent of his championship years, when he would scythe through the field to win after fluffing yet another ........ ah, ahem, I mean, uh... start (my mind, it goes to strange places). All too often it looks like he's still wobbling around on a Ducati, looking distinctly... average. But if you spend too much time in the company of slow white Hondas the dullness rubs off.
Still, you have to give Vale some (acting) credit: all four times when Rossi's been up on the podium this year his enthusiastic celebrations show no hint he knows his presence there is only due the absence of one (or both) of Lorenzo and Pedrosa.
9. .... results or .... bike?
When you look at the inability of a riders like Pretty-boy Bautsy and Spawn of the Helmut to achieve their potential (in MotoGP), or the Texan Tumbleweed and the Dovster to put up results anywhere near that of their teammates (during their Yamaha and Honda factory-riding seasons), the question that comes to mind is: who is/was being ......-over (relatively speaking) and who is/was just fucken-..... (again, relatively speaking)? The frustrating thing about motorsport is the amount of variables that can affect a rider's performance in a race: inferior bike to opposition (including teammates); choice of tyre compound and carcass construction (by rider and manufacturer); capabilities of rider and/or team to find the best bike set-up; the rulebook; politics; experience; confidence; mind games; money; injuries; and bad hair days. More frustrating is the inability from the couch to really, really tell (and to what degree) when any/all/some/none of these things are factors in a rider's results--bad hair is such a subjective judgement. Consider the team situations below:
Luis Salom is leading the Moto 3 championship, but his teammates are nowhere. At times, both riders have shown in practice, qualifying or during races they can match the pace of Salom and the other front-runners. Zulfahmi Khairuddin has spent three (four?) seasons with the Ajo Motorsports squad, but after (finally) showing promise at the end of 2012 he has qualified abysmally this season, forever struggling in the mid-pack to modest top ten finishes. Arthur Sissis, for all his teen speedway glory and near Red Bull Rookie Championship success (Lorenzo Baldassarri, among others, might call the title a poisoned chalice; good luck in 2014, Karel Hanika), usually qualifies equally abysmally, though he often makes lightning starts and runs with the big boys (figuratively speaking, of course!) for a lap or two. What's going on? The bike? The rider? The Feng Shui?
After a career of distinctly mediocre mediocrity (one podium in 138 starts across all classes) Aleix Espargaro, poster boy for CRT-non-MSMA-grid-fillers, has not only put daylight between himself and Randy de Puniet in the championship standings in 2013 but also regularly qualifies in the top ten and beats home satellite machinery. Amazingly, he's been in parc ferme more times this year than anyone not named Marc Marquez. In contrast, Randy has had a .... year, although he did get married in the off season—and we all know that knocks half a second off your lap times. During the first year of CRT bikes their battle was reasonably close and only RdP's contractually obligated race crashes (seriously, with his experience, shouldn't he know by now how to keep a bike out of the kitty litter?) allowed Espargaro the elder to finish the year ahead in the points. If you look at the riders keeping company with the Frenchman in the battle for irrelevancy this year, you'll note several are also on ART bikes. Aleix, of course, is riding a not-quite-factory-enough-to-be-MSMA-factory-Aprilia, but perhaps--especially in light of his Suzuki testing duties--Mr. Vickers has been demoted to a customer-spec ART?
8. Once upon a time, in the land of Moto 2, there was a wolf, and... an oft-changing anime-crack-child-dog-chef-kangaroo-weirdness-thingy
In the battle of the mascots, Redding has a wolf. Espargaro has... drawings by Japanese kindergarten students? Fetishistic totems? On the grounds of coolness factor and (somewhat surprisingly) taste, Scott-o the lad ought to win the championship--however, he does lose major points for the bizarre Spiderman homage (Melandri's was much classier) he enacted as his victory celebration at Silverstone; and for being a second or two away from dry humping the gravel that day in front of God and everyone. In the battle on the track, Pol's preponderance to panic has cost him points, but as Redding's first instinct is to BREATHE and second is to WANT IT things are fairly balanced. Their rivalry seems to be built on mutual dislike--and for soap opera fans, they don't mind showing it. We haven't had it so good since Lawson vs. Gardner.
There's an awful lot of Nicky Hayden's title winning year in Scott Redding's effort this season, but I just can't put my [Pete Benson] on why exactly. A one-time commanding points lead has been [Pete Benson]ed down to just 20--without Espargaro being dominant, or even consistent. Does Redding lack the [Pete Benson]s to push on, the outright talent, or does Honda have him riding a test-bed-special-lab-bike for next season? At Aragon, Redding put up a brave fight, but ultimately could do nothing but [Pete Benson] the tank in frustration as he crossed the line in 4th. In contrast, Poly was politively ebullient in parc ferme, in spite of being well-beaten by his teammate and annihilated by Terol, making light of 'tough racing' in the last corner with Redding--of course it would have been toys-out-of-the-pram if he'd been punted off track/finished behind his rival.
From here the pressure ratchets up a few notches: a DNF and it's probably all over, especially for Poly, and race wins could seal the deal either way. But, much like 2006 in the MotoGP class, race wins will be hard to come by for the championship protagonists as the season builds to the climax of autumnal chill at the Ricardo Tormo stop-go-kart-track. Stevie "Tito" Rabid, caught between pissing off his current and future teams, will try to win every race to make himself unpopular with everyone. Alex de Forgotten Man is due to wake from his year-long slumber and take victory at either Sepang or Phillip Island. A resurgent Nico "Does my crushing victory mean that a corner at Aragon will be named after me there too?" Terol--having recovered from health and personal issues, and probably a rocket up the arse from Aspar--will be hungry for more contract bonuses, and hoping for more hot track temperatures and squabbling packs fumbling about in his wake. Nearly man Nakas--still leading the post-summer-break-Moto2-championship-table, despite a forgettable weekend in Aragon--will want to break his duck, pop his cherry, and also win a race. And, although Jordi "JT" Torres might have already filled this year's quota, there's always room in Moto2 for a completely unexpected one-hit wonder to come from the clouds and take the 25 (Karel Abraham, Michele Pirro: come on down).
7. MotoGP Teen
This is now a sport firmly entrenched as the province of pimply teenagers. Thanks, Dorna. It's gotten so bad that esteemed MotoGP journalist David "Dave-Davey-boy-Davo-Kropotkin-thinks-MotoMatters" Emmett actually described barely 22 years old Luis Salom as a veteran. A veteran! You can hardly blame him when the Dorna treadmill sets the achievement bar at: 16 year old prodigies in Moto3; 18 year old wunderkinds in Moto2; and 20 year old geniuses in MotoGP. Perhaps it's no surprise that recently retired lost soul Casey Stoner decided it was all a bit too much at 27 years of age, having spent seven seasons in the MotoGP class. If the 27 Club was when great riders retired, not a collection of musos and other assorted artsy types who made bad lifestyle choices and/or fell victim to their mental demons, consider the following list of 500cc/MotoGP champions for some perspective:
If Kenny Roberts had retired at 27, he would've won only one 500cc championship; instead he spent seven seasons in the 500cc class.
If Freddie Spencer had retired at 27... er, he did, effectively... and, in hindsight, actually should have; instead he had four full competitive seasons in the 500cc class. He also turned up sporadically in a few other years, diminishing his otherwise glittering career with a legacy of no-shows, mysterious health issues and poor performance, as well as mind ....... Agostini and pocketing a tidy wedge of Marlboro cash.
If Eddie Lawson had retired at 27, he would've won only one 500cc championship; instead, he spent ten seasons in the 500cc class (including two in semi-retirement at Cagiva).
If Wayne Gardner had retired at 27, he never would've become world champion; instead he spent eight seasons in the 500cc class, setting a benchmark for broken bones for Pedrosa to later emulate (and surpass).
If Wayne Rainey had retired at 27, he never would've become world champion; instead he spent six years in the 500cc class, pushing himself harder and harder on bikes that became steadily more uncompetitive until that fateful day at Misano.
If Kevin Schwantz had retired at 27, he never would've become world champion; instead he spent seven full seasons in the 500cc class, retiring abruptly halfway through his eighth.
If Mick Doohan had retired at 27, he never would've become world champion; instead he spent ten full seasons in the 500cc class, before a career ending crash early in his eleventh.
If Alex Criville had retired at 27, he never would've become world champion; instead he spent ten seasons in the 500cc class, mostly in Doohan's shadow.
If Kenny Roberts Jnr. had retired at 27, he still would've claimed his title, but at least he could have avoided the ignominy of durdling around for a further five years on (mostly) god-awful Suzuki nails (Rossi-at-Ducati-style) for a mere two podiums and 'fat' pay checks before accepting a couple more years of Daddy's handouts. In all, Junior spent ten full seasons in the 500cc/MotoGP class, finally throwing in the towel halfway through his eleventh.
If Valentino Rossi had retired at 27, he would've won five 500c/MotoGP championships and perhaps taken his yellow hordes over to F1 or WRC; instead he keeps on going like the Duracell Bunny, now into his fourteenth season in the 500cc/MotoGP class.
If Nicky Hayden had retired at 27, he could have avoided five wasted years as a Ducati salesman; instead he keeps on circulating. In his eleven seasons in the MotoGP class the number of testing kilometres Nicky has completed would put him halfway to Mars if you stretched them out end to end; unfortunately, as would be the case with any manned mission to the red planet using current technology, they've all been exorbitantly expensive and derived no practical benefit.
If Casey Stoner had retired at 27, and stayed retired, he wouldn't be flailing about in tin-tops and as a glorified lab-monkey in search of meaning; who knows maybe radio controlled cars will keep him occupied for longer than five minutes.
If Jorge Lorenzo wants to retire at 27, he'll have to wait until next year; and in that case it would be after seven seasons in the MotoGP class.
If Marc Marquez retires at 27 (in 2020), it's hard to imagine he'd walk away with any less than five MotoGP championships, unless someone else crazier and more ruthless (his brother, Alex?) emerges in the meantime; that would make eight seasons of #93 terrorising competitors in the MotoGP class.
6. Race Direction says MotoGP is a contact sport
Mike Webb, Paul Butler... it doesn't seem to matter who is 'in charge,' Race Direction has always been (and will probably ever remain) an overly results-oriented and politically-charged clusterfuck. It should be Captain Obvious why having a judiciary that bends in the political wind is a bad thing, but what's wrong with results-oriented (the more or less riders are injured or inconvenienced in an incident, the more or less the penalty) punishments I hear you say? Put it this way, if Webb or Butler were in charge of handing out penalties for running red lights at traffic intersections they would only fine or punish individuals if running the red light caused a big enough accident or injury; it's not hard to work out what the consequences of that approach would be...
MotoGP is not a contact sport; it's a sport where contact can happen. 20-40 bikes piling into turn one at the start of a race creates quite the accordion effect. Riders dicing in a pack or in a duel will touch each other (ooh err!) because of compromised braking points and differing lines. Biff n' bash racing is lauded by 'troo fans' of the sport: it's an exciting spectacle that usually involves close, intense racing. These same fans, when arguing about controversial incidents tend to flip flop on their stance, depending on whether their favourite (or most disliked) rider is the basher or the bashee. Yet article 1.22 of the rulebook makes it quite clear that "Riders must ride in a <u>responsible</u> manner which does not cause <u>danger</u> to other competitors or participants." So, when contact is deliberately initiated by one rider against another--perhaps through some kind of 'ultra-manly take-no-prisnas-guvna force-it-in-there hard pass'--that's a breach of the rules, as they are written, no ifs or buts.
Lorenzo tapped past Pedrosa (both stayed on track) on the last corner at Jerez, 2010 to gain the lead; Marquez nudged J-Lo wide (both stayed on track) on the final corner at Jerez, 2013 to gain a position; Rossi elbowed Gibbers (Sete ran off track) on the final corner at Jerez, 2005 for the win; Hayden launched a flying kick at Dovi (both went 'flying' off track) on the final corner at Indianapolis, 2013 in a battle for... eighth (sums up #69's post 2006 career, really). Hayden's was the most blatant piece of dangerous riding (albeit on a glacially slow corner) seen since Marquez dive-bombed Wilairot at Philip Island in 2011. None of these incidents were officially sanctioned, compared with, say, Zarco (vs Terrol, Catalunya, 2011), who received a 20 second penalty, and Tamada (vs Gibbers again, 2003), who copped a DSQ. Blow wind, blow.
But wait, there's more: what about accidental contact? Where does that fall in relation to 1.22? Welcome to Shades of Grey, 101; Differing Opinions and Confirmation Bias, 102, is next semester. Accidental contact can be reckless, or negligent, or just a ....-up. ....-ups seem to fall under that catch all banner 'racing incident' (an ingenious term which says everything and nothing, causing some to shrug their shoulders and move on, others to bring forth steam from their ears, while conveniently letting Race Direction go home early). ....-ups include Pedrosa on Hayden at Estoril 2006, Doohan on Lawson at Suzuka, 1990, Rossi on Stoner at Jerez, 2011, Rossi on Melandri at Motegi, 2005, Bautista on half the field at Valencia, 2011. Reckless... well, that's a can of worms: think of all those incidents which ended in tears (this Top Ten is already too long), such as Simoncelli on Pedrosa at Le Mans, 2011. Negligence is a little harder to quantify, but Magee/Shobert at Laguna Seca, 1989 and Rivas and co. at Silverstone, 2013 are obvious examples; reaching a little further, you could include Lawson's crew on Lawson at Laguna Seca, 1990, if you were so inclined.
Don't touch that dial: what about accidental contact that breaks or affects something on another competitor's bike? Most ineffective: Lorenzo smashing into Pedrosa at Sachsenring, 2005 and bending Pedder's exhaust (Ha, Pedders exhaust... a terrible inside joke for Aussies!); he still won. Most spectacular: Simoncelli on Barbera at Mugello, 2008; afterwards, Marco was officially warned for 'leaning.' Most Swiss Army knife-like: the HRC clutch lever--it slices, it dices, as well as helping you change gears... but how much would you expect to pay for that? We can't tell you right now, because the pricing point is due to be worked out in Sepang this week.
The interpretations of article 1.22 are so wide Kenny Roberts Junior and Scott Redding could walk through side by side carrying a googolplex of cheeseburgers. Race Direction clearly isn't up to the job when it comes to the murky waters of contact unbecoming a MotoGP event. In fact, .... Race Direction--some silly boy band would have a better chance of enforcing the rulebook properly and consistently. Dorna's mouthpiece, Javier Alonso, seems to enjoy pontificating in the limelight (perhaps it's a perk in return for Ezpeleta never letting him have an independent thought), but putting Capirex on the four man panel is a stroke of genius; I'm sure he brings a wealth of expert knowledge to the table. Would Loris have the integrity to recuse himself if Vale ever appeared before Race Direction over an incident? LOL, ROFL, ROFLMFAO, OMG, I kid, I kid--Capirossi's friendship with His Rossifuminess probably ranks way down on the conflict of interest list regarding any possible judgement of #46's actions.
Doubtless Race Direction will continue in their timid oh-woe-is-me-damned-if-I-do-damned-don't approach, vacillating between half-arsed penalties... "Oh, you can just start at the back of the grid, because the guy you hospitalised will miss two races," or, "Here are some stern words, that you'll probably ignore"... or they punch on, going in boots and all... "Two race ban, piss off, loser," or, "DSQ for you, when I remember 1.22." To say that Race Direction should enforce the rulebook without fear or favour, coming down hard on deliberate or reckless contact (especially if it creates an advantage) seems reasonable and logical; it should happen around the same time Puig receives a Humanitarian of the Year award, Ezy receives an invite from the Stoners to move in with them, and Pol and Aleix spend more than two hours apart. Perhaps the non-penalty on Hayden has set a precedent for 2013, though. If that's the case, Pedders should aim to punt Marquez into pit lane on the final corner at Sepang next time out for a penalty-free win.
5. Top Five (within a Top Ten) Myths of MotoGP
(1) The Ben Spies Rule: The only correlation between Spies and the Rookie Rule is that both came into the MotoGP circus in 2010, they started with a blaze of publicity/good intentions/good results, but were both dead and buried by 2013. In 2010, Lorenzo and Rossi were the factory riders at Yamaha, coming off a 1-2 season and both under contract. No room in that team. Spies had a deal with Yamaha for three years; after some initial confusion over the second year being in WSBK or MotoGP he moved to ride for Tech 3. In the unlikely event that he had tried to break or buy out his contract, Honda had Pedrosa (going nowhere) and Dovizioso (the water-tightest of water-tight deals), and Ducati had Stoner and Hayden. Suzuki--a factory team, but exempt from the Rookie Rule (on the grounds of being .....)--had already rejected Benny-boy long before he ever signed with Yamaha. The only Ben Spies rule that exists is that where he goes, Mommy goes.
(2) Cal was shafted by Yamaha: Despite not being contracted by Yamaha directly, all kinds of upgrades (like the 2013 fuel tank 'responsible' for Lorenzo's blinding early lap pace, which has done .... all for #35) found their way onto Crutchy's bike whenever he moaned and stamped his little feet. Having actively tried to leave the team in 2012 (Ducati said no, sorry, Nicky still sells us too many bikes), Calvin magnanimously signed on again with Herve on only a one year deal in order to 'keep his options open' for 2014. Luckily for him, it worked, this time Ducati said yes: Cal gets a fat Philip Morris contract and heads to Bologna with delusions of success on the GP13.14.can.we.have.another.200cc.in.it. The only shafting where Yamaha and Tech 3 are concerned was Randy Mamola getting Poncheral to sign a three year deal (with two years guaranteed in MotoGP) for Bradley 'Chrome Dome' Smith in 2011.
(3) Pol is an undeserving passport-entitled ....: The storyline that seems to have run on and taken a life of its own this season is that Pol is utterly unworthy of a seat at Tech 3, and Redding deserves so much more than a Production Racer at Gresini. Fans of the chunky Brit have shat out enough bilious sour grapes to impress Alby Puig in a vindictive mood, all because Scott-o doesn't have a satellite (or factory) ride for 2014--especially since he's odds-on-favourite to leave Moto2 as champion. But Dorna's relentless treadmill, forever pushing the best riders onwards, reaches an inescapable bottleneck at the MotoGP level and, coupled with a paucity of factory and satellite rides (regardless of universal money and sponsorship scarcity, why in hell is the 2 + 2 threshold in the rulebook?), means someone has to miss out on a seat when the music stops. Maybe Marc 'there was no conflict of interest' van der Straten could have found Redding a better deal if he hadn't been faffing about trying to decide whether to take his team (and rider) to MotoGP in 2014? Espargaro's management were certainly on the ball: in talks with Yamaha for 2014 before this season had even begun.
As for Poly, the fact is his record in 125cc and Moto2 currently stacks up much better than Redding, with multiple race wins and championship contentions across multiple years. It's not because of any discrepancy in competitive machinery, either; after his fabulous win at Donington in 2008, Scott-o did little in his career but put on weight (check out the picture linked to his twitter account that shows Redding and Marquez after that race) until this season. The only thing Espargaro the Younger is guilty of is riding while being Spanish.
[STOP PRESS: In a Powerslide.net exclusive I can now reveal the true reason Pol Espargaro was signed to ride for the Monster Tech 3 Yamaha squad in 2014. Unlike 99% of sports men and women who endorse teeth-rotting, chemical-death-in-a-can sports drinks, Poly not only has his place decked out with Monster-themed fridges and furniture but he also guzzles said toxic filth like its pure oxygen. Monster demanded such loyalty be rewarded.]
(4) Nicky Hayden 'fluked' his title: Almost as tedious as Hayden fans who can't let go of Estoril, 2006, this manifestly ridiculous dribble has been trotted out time and again over the last seven years. Leading the charge for this tired narrative is the notion that race wins are the be all and end all. There's no doubt Pedders would swap 22 MotoGP victories for 1 World Championship and call it a fair trade. And for those that need reminding, Hayden wasn't plucked from a used car lot in Owensboro, strapped to the back of an RC211V and told to close his eyes if it got scary. He followed the proud American tradition of AMA SBK success as a pathway to MotoGP glory. In 2006, after building up a 44 point lead over his teammate by the eleventh round, he soaked up an enormous amount of pressure in the final six races and never panicked, despite all the [Pete Benson]s with his bike--especially that ....... clutch. The only things Hayden ever fluked in his life were his English grammar tests in High School.
(5) Dorna only care about money: The myth about this statement is that some people actually believe it's not true.
4. Dani "Always the bridesmaid... god I hope I don't go bald like Mamola" Pedrosa
You can chart Pedder's fortunes by the amount of slagging he receives on internet forums (and blog opinion pieces dressed as 'journalism' written by drooling mouth-breathers). The wolves were howling at the start of 2012, but sure went quiet after the summer break. This season, after a 4th at Qatar and a 2nd at Austin, the sound and fury returned—only to be abruptly silenced by back to back wins. However, from his lacklustre performance (i.e. 4th) at Assen onwards the drums of doom started pounding again.
"Enough is enough!" the cry went up. "Eight ....... seasons on the best bike on the grid and no titles: scuttle the good ship Captain Pedders and deep six Alby while you're at it." Funny how the term 'best bike' is such a moving target: in 2007 it was a Ducati (LOL) and then 2008-2010 Yamaha, before reverting to that 1980s favourite combo of Honda then Yamaha then Honda. 'Best bike for the tyres' might be a more accurate term, but still sounds more like criticism of under fire riders than a useful description. Anyway, if you get rid of Daniel, name the replacement rider [not named Stoner/Lorenzo/Rossi] who could have been expected to better his results? <crickets chirping... crickets chirping...>
If Danny-boy retires at the ripe old age of 29, without the big prize, his quote from 2010 will sum it up best: "If I don't manage to win the title, it will be because I wasn't good enough." While the automatic response might be, "'No ...., Sherlock," it is true that (at that time) he didn't blame injuries, bad luck, Italian-quack-diagnosed-psychological-flaws or even the tired old red-white-and-blue karma bus. As a triple champion in three consecutive years, in a different era, Pedders might have stayed in the 125s and the 250s and won so many titles that he wouldn't need to describe them as 12 + 1.
3. Jorge "They cheer for Pedrosa, they cheer for Marquez--why do Spanish fans (subsidised fan club members aside) not cheer for me?" Lorenzo
Although he's arguably riding at a higher level than in either of his championship-winning years, J-Lo seems powerless to prevent Marquez from winning the title in 2013. The long sweeping curves of Silverstone are a custom-made fit for Lorenzo and his M1, but the fact that J-Lo could only take victory by 0.081 of a second at his best track--and Marquez raced with a dislocated shoulder--says everything about the inevitability of the final result. His follow-up brilliance at Misano was swiftly cancelled out by a 'measured' Marquez victory at Aragon. Curiously, at Aragorn, during the closing laps, Jorge looked over his shoulder at the rider behind him for the first time since 2009. If he saw a shadow, J-Lo might find winter this off-season lasting another six weeks longer.
2. Marc "That's Marc with a 'C' not a 'K'; the 'C' stands for controversy" Marquez
For all that he often seems an accident waiting to happen (an important distinction from a crash waiting to happen) the f-GOAT has managed the (c. 2007) Casey Stoner plan--regularly pitching it down the road during practice but not in the race--to near perfection. Pole position seems to be his to lose the moment a wheel is turned at the start of FP1: J-Lo rode the self-confessed lap of his life at Silverstone this year; Marquez beat the time by over a tenth, despite a mistake or two on his own lap. Absent a front-end tuck at Mugello while running second M&M could apply for permanent residency on the podium. Since J-Lo broke his collarbone, Marcus has reeled off five victories and three second places; dominance that's positively Rossi-and-Doohan-esque. Sure he's riding the 'best bike' on the grid, blah blah blah, and rookie is a term best applied to green-around-the-gills-deer-in-the-headlights-types not, ahem, 'veterans' of 75+ race starts, but, come on, people... stop and take a moment to worship at the feet of your Marc Marquez RealDoll™ and reflect upon a truly amazing season.
However, he is not a MotoGP World Champion yet (say it like James Earl Jones would). Despite a ten win season in 2010, Marquez only beat Terol to the 125cc crown by 14 points and tried his level best to .... that up in the second last round, by crashing on the sighting lap of a rain-affected restart at Estoril and giving his team heart palpitations of seismic proportions. His initial debut in Moto2 was spectacular for all the wrong reasons: after 7 rounds he had just 45 points (from a 1st and a 2nd), and, frankly, looked out of his depth. From that point on, though, the f-GOAT juggernaut began--complete with an episode of Phillip Island idiocy and the by now familiar (almost calculated) disregard for other riders on track. Just remember, when things go wrong in M&M land they really go wrong--a couple of wet races out of the last four, and things could still end up arse over ....
1. Spaniards should know their place, and stick to the smaller classes where they belong: a potted history of the last 30 years or so of Grand Prix racing.
Once upon a time there were four or more different capacity classes of bikes racing at each event, and just as with the no-longer-with-us-and-already-dearly-missed-yet-still-somewhat-polarising Laguna Seca round different classes were sometimes absent. As now, not everyone cared about the results of the classes they didn't follow. [Quick aside: Name a 50/80cc world champion, other than Angel Nieto or Jorge Martinez. Then name two championship-winning sidecar teams. Do this without checking your bedside copy of the F.I.M. MotoGP Results Guide. You don't have a copy by your bed? Oh... is it your standby reading material for those long sessions in the .......?]
There has always been some transition between the classes, with bigger riders naturally, uh, gravitating to the larger capacities. Up until the 1980s it was, of course, common for riders to enter in multiple classes (a certain Kenny Roberts rode in the 250s in 1978 for extra track familiarisation time and even bothered to line up for a few races when the chance of easy prize money beckoned). Way back when, MV Augusta had a policy where their rider's height and/or weight determined what category they would enter them in; maybe it was thinking along those lines (although never formalised as rules, that I know of) that kept rider movement from being the one way traffic of you'll-kill-your-career/be-left-standing-still-if-you-don't-move-up-now that Dorna so encourages. Because it certainly wasn't the case that bigger necessarily meant better--for the riders, sponsors and the general public. I remember hearing Barry Sheene say that a lot of fans in Spain (and elsewhere?) didn't stick around to watch the 500s race. Even as late as 1997 Capirex dropped back to the 250s because he could get a bigger pay check, and I think at one point Rossi was also offered more money to stay longer in the 250s.
The 500s were dominated by Americans in the 1980s. The height of that dominance, which included four championships in a row, was the period from 1983 to 1986, when four Americans (KR Snr--who retired at the end of '83, 'Stoner,' Steady Eddie, and Randy de First) won 43 of the 47 races held; only Christian 'big blue balls' Sarron at a wet Hockenheim in 1985 and the emergence of Wayne 'insurance-companies-bar-me-from-entering-china-shops' Gardner with three wins in 1986 prevented the clean sweep. The Stars and Stripes also claimed 98 of 141 podiums. In the days where manufacturers were cashed up, tobacco sponsorship was booming, and TV audiences were growing there were only six different winners in four years. It meant, realistically, that only 2-4 riders (out of fields averaging around 35) had a chance to win any given race. Thank god internet forums weren't a thing back in the day--outrage about MotoUSA would have melted 300 baud modems and Commodore 64s the world over.
Gardner's success opened the floodgates (relatively speaking) for Australian riders, with Magoo and Doohan joining the party soon afterwards, and Mladin, Beattie, McCoy, etc. to follow. In the meantime, after a few years of sitting on their hands, Suzuki had "Texan Kevin Schwantz, first is all he wantz" riding for them; like Ducati in the current MotoGP era (and Yamaha in the post-Rainey, pre-Rossi wilderness) their bikes were really never really that bad--if equally not that great--they just needed the vital ingredient: a quality rider. With tyre competition a feature and a deep field, 500cc Grand Prix racing was in its Golden Age.
In 1990, the extremely popular Sito Pons, a double 250cc World Champion (the first Spanish titles in the class), used his Campsa backing and got serious about a tilt at the 500s. He'd had a go in the mid-80s on a rather average Suzuki with predictably average results, but this time he had a NSR500 and meant business. Suddenly there was heightened interest in Spain about the 500cc class. His aggressive rival in the 250s, the drug-addled Juan Garriga also took up the challenge on a Ducados Yamaha; Garriga rode for three seasons of surprisingly dour, workman-like mid-pack results, the high point being a podium at Donington in 1992. Initially, Pons showed promise, if not outright warp speed, in pre-season testing and, in his own words, rode over 5000kms before his first crash on a 500 at Laguna Seca. He was later badly hurt (broken ribs) in another fall in the last Yugoslav Grand Prix (and unavoidably hit by Chili) when dicing with Doohan for 4th place; that accident caused him to miss the next five races, but he did manage to finish the season with a solid handful of 5th, 6th, and 7th places. The following year did not go well at all, and Sito retired. What happened next is perhaps the most important bit in this little sidebar: Team Campsa Pons plucked Alex Criville--two years removed from his 1989 125cc title--from mid-pack 250cc purgatory to claiming Spain's first ever 500cc victory at one of the most bizarre race meetings of all time, in Assen, 1992. Criville later joined the factory Honda team at the start of the Doohan era (a year before the Repsol sponsorship came along), forcing Beattie out--despite Mr. Monotone (the dullness goes up to 11) achieving an excellent third place points haul in his first full season, including a win at Hockenheim.
Also, youf triumphed at the first opportunity when snaggle-toothed teen Loris 'Does this lucky green scarf make me look cool? No.' Capirossi claimed his first 125cc crown, with 'Mafia' help. As an eighteen year old he went back-to-back, dominating in 1991. Such success at such a young age: it was a light bulb moment as to what to do next. Compare and contrast this to riders like Fausto Gresini (also a double 125cc World Champion over the journey), Bruno Casanova and Ezio Gianola, who started in 125cc in their early twenties and stayed put for 10 or more (often very successful) seasons. While it would take a more talented Italian, six years later, to properly define the path blueprint all young riders who dream of GP glory now aspire to follow, Capirex was the rough prototype.
There was also a 'sudden' influx of Japanese riders in the 1990s. A token Japanese presence attached to the various factory efforts had, of course, long been a fixture of the GP paddock. With the notable exception of Takazumi Katayama--who headed to Europe on his own, and won a 350cc championship and many other races in several classes--they were typically company employee types, in the mould of Tadahiko Taira: fast (often having use of the best engines), especially over one lap, but also liable to self-destruct. Nobby Ueda was a revelation in the 125cc class in 1991, winning and taking podiums outside of Japan; he went on to have a long and distinguished career in the 125cc class, often riding for Italian-based teams. Kazuto Sakata also started in 1991, although it took time for his results to come; he retired a double 125cc world champion, also having ridden for Italian works Aprilia teams. In their wake came a host of others, including the unforgettable Norifumi Abe (who never truly realised his potential), the brilliant (but highly strung) Tetsuya Harada, Masao Azuma, Tadayuki Okada, Masaki Tokudome, Tomomi Manako, the Aoki clan, Youichi Ui, Tohru Ukawa, Shinya Nakano, and, of course, Daijiro Kato. Kimigayo was played a lot, but no one seemed to mind because it was only occasionally heard after a 500cc race.
The 1990s were also pretty good for Italians. Aside from Capirex and the 125cc guys mentioned above, Cadalora, Biaggi and some guy called Rossi won a lot of races and more than a few championships between them. Aprilia played a big part in many of these successes and came to dominate the 125cc and 250cc classes. Long before Pedrosa's early years in the MotoGP class, Luca "Marlboro Man" Cadalora had perfected the art of a 2 win season; he made them look effortless, too. Maxine won a few more 500c races than Luca, but only endeared himself to his own reflection (he spent hours trimming his goatee just so). As for Rossifumi, how can you not love a guy who takes the typical flag-waving nationalism out of victory celebrations?
Pressing the rewind button a moment, back in 1992 it all seemed innocuous enough: a Spanish company called Dorna (What's a Dorna?) acquired the TV rights and quickly overcame the early stink of a corruption scandal. Watching from the couch in Australia, nothing much really changed, except that after a few years we started to get some guy with a thick Spanish accent interviewing the riders after the race. I always felt sorry for the guy when he had to ask a perpetually grumpy Doohan about having to deal with a gaggle of riders who could only go fast by following him and occasionally getting pipped on the line by an opportunistic Criville. He eventually disappeared, and was replaced by the relentlessly cheerful Gavin Emmett.
Dorna made few drastic changes in the 1990s, preferring to consolidate their influence. The one-off-Barcelona-Olympics-celebration GP at Catalunya in 1992 stuck around on the calendar as the 'European Grand Prix' for another three years, until they finally said, .... it, Spain gets two GPs, deal with it. Since Italy often had two races a year, no one really seemed to mind. Eyebrows were raised in 1999 when another race at Valencia was added, because, .... it, Spain gets three GPs, but TV audiences were growing, attendances were up and media profile was at an all-time high, so, smile, and let the good times roll. In the 500s Criville was champion-elect, having dominated the middle of the season, in the 250s the Rossi phenomenon was exploding, and in the 125s there was a tense three-way battle between a battling Alzamora the ultra-[Pete Benson], a surging Melandri and a fading (and deer-spooked) Azuma. It was the Dorna-of-new-era.
Something was missing, though... where were the Spanish riders? Criville, having struggled so long in Doohan's shadow, had only a fleeting moment in the full spotlight before falling into the abyss. Only Alby Puig, who had a minor, one home GP win, injury-curtailed career, the amiable (when not giving Max Neukirchner a broken collarbone) Charlie Chuck-it-down-the-road, who won two home GPs in the 1990s and thereafter hung around like a bad smell for more than a decade, and the one and only Sete "late bloomer/ambulance chaser" Gibbers Gibernau were there to keep Alex company. After the pit lane meltdown of championship contender Carlos Cardus at Philip Island in 1990 no Spanish rider won a 250cc race until 2002. In the 125s, you had Jorge 'Aspar' Martinez, the wily old fox (© Nick Harris Media), always lurking--but never approaching his 1980s successes--and the aforementioned Alzamora (who found it a little easier to win races in non-championship winning seasons), but that was pretty much it. Something had to be done!
Starry-eyed Spanish children and pre-teens watched Alex Criville fiddling with his golden helmet on the podium at Rio de Janeiro in 1999, and wondered how they, too, could realise that dream. Enter the much praised Holy Grail of Spanish teen talent identification and development cultivation. With organisational prodding from Dorna and individuals like the ever-reviled Alby Puig, Spanish motorcycle racing got its collective .... together. The CEV platform for success is downplayed by many. "We have development series just as good in our countries," some say, "We've got hot-shot juniors, too." To the former: No, you don't. To latter: Of course, you do, but:
1) Do these young hot-shots race for teams with direct connection to the GP paddock?
2) Do these young hot-shots ride the closest spec bikes to those in the GP paddock? Are they even riding in a GP category?
3) Do these young hot-shots race on Grand Prix circuits at (almost) every round of their series? Not only does is this helpful for a GP career in the future, it also allows direct comparison of lap times to gauge
progress and potential.
4) Are these young hot-shots big fish in a small pond, or do they race against the most ambitious juniors from around the world?
Stefan Bradl, Bradley Smith, Scott Redding, Takaaki Nakagami, Miguel Oliveira, and Casey Stoner are among many of the non-Spanish graduates of the CEV finishing school. Just like the galaxy of Spanish riders who have joined the GP circus in the 2000s, they too followed (or are following) the Capirex/Rossifumi pathway to the top.
[And now the MotoGP class is unquestionably the top: all the money, the manufacturer interest, Dorna's manipulation and the media exposure points towards MotoGP as the pinnacle. The MotoGP race weekend is sold as a package, you have the age-limited junior class, the intermediate class (where riders on the way up collide with those on their way down), and the main event (with all its special qualifying and extended build up). Dorna's commentators are forever banging on about things like: this young rider will be in MotoGP one day; it proves the system is working; [...] just like Valentino Rossi. Speaking of Vale, his 125cc crown seems a much worthier and harder fought achievement than the Moto3 title won by Sandro Cortese. Rossi raced against champions like Martinez and Sakata, and vastly experienced race winners like Ueda. Cortese by comparison, in his eighth full season in the class (Eight seasons! I thought only guys with Spanish passports could hold a seat that long), faced a few fast riders finding their feet and wet-behind-the-ears Red Bull Rookie graduates who couldn't tell their arses from their breakfast and probably have more sexual experience than they do bike set-up experience. And how many 125cc champions have stayed to defend their titles in the last ten years? Just one, Gabor Talmacsi--and that was only because contract negotiations with Aspar for a 250 didn't pan out as intended. The way Dorna have pissed on the prestige of this class should make you weep. But I digress...]
Getting into the GP paddock is a huge challenge. There are less than one hundred full time rides available. Turnover from year to year is actually fairly limited and competition for those vacant seats is as fierce as any battle on the track. Most of those vacancies are at the bottom, and because of this promotion from within, progression through the ranks, and an obsession with youth, few riders gain entry having taken a different path. Wrestling superbike slugs on primitive tyres in strong national series had previously proved a fertile breeding ground to recruit good 500cc racers; most, if not all, of the 'Golden Agers' had come up this way (Hayden and Spies represent the last of that tradition). When the WSBK championship kicked off, it was an additional way for these superbike riders to get exposure--giving the locals a chance to shine when the circus came to town. Recruiting from the WSBK itself was always a bit of mixed bag, and in more recent times the series has been largely relegated to a place for faded MotoGP stars to retain gainful employment. The decline of national series--in BSB, AMA, ASBK, All Japan the champions now are usually crusty veterans, not up-and-comers--coupled with the extinction of two stroke racing has all but closed that door anyway. The Red Bull Rookies Cup is a nice idea in theory, but the casting call (give 105 14-16 year old hopefuls a few laps to impress on cold tyres) sounds murderous, and few graduate into Moto3--because the CEV is a better proving ground (and the riders come much better funded).
If Dorna ever goes belly up (hopefully not taking MotoGP with it), its epitaph shall read: Unintended Consequences '1992--20xx' or perhaps something wittier (than I can think of now) about an obsession with short term fixes. More Spanish rounds (adding a 4th at Aragon was when things really Jumped the Shark) meant more races in a year, more revenue, better TV deals, and attracted further Spanish sponsorship. Great! What about a potential sponsor who isn't that interested in the Spanish market? Almost 25% of your series is now held there, including the season-ending round. Good job, Dorna, you've made it harder for non-Spanish riders to attract non-Spanish sponsors. Of course, Spanish sponsors could be less nationalistic, some have said. A Spanish bank focusing on a domestic market could give two ..... about riders from another country (although, funnily enough, Aspar, of all the Spanish teams, currently has one of the most international line-ups; I wonder how much those riders paid for their seats).
Ah, nationalism. Now we come to the heart of the matter (and about fucken time...). If you look at the podiums for 2013, you see a wall of Spain, with no end in (near) sight. The foundations of this dominance can be glimpsed in race records dating back just over ten years. Well-prepared, well-funded, well-connected graduates of the Spanish system, riding for teams run by savvy operators like Aspar, Pons, Puig, etc., made their way up through the classes, winning more and more--creating a snowball effect. When they started, Italians ruled the roost and the Japanese era was winding down, but this crop of extraordinarily talented riders seemed to have blinded these countries to the deficiencies of their national infrastructure; economic woes only added to their subsequent difficulties to redress the problems. But for all the Spanish dominance in the smaller capacities (125cc/Moto3 more so than 250cc/Moto2), it is the recent, sustained success in the premier class since 2010 (and near monopolisation of competitive factory machinery) that, uh, shall we say 'displeases' a vocal segment of MotoGP fandom.
Even among those reading this there are probably few who follow the smaller classes particularly closely, but MotoGP fans certainly know about the wall of Spain, and what it represents. Information about all classes is much more readily available outside of the specialist bike press than it once was: Pay TV or niche channels like One HD show all races in their entirety, there's the Dorna web$ite and internet streams and all kinds of internet content. But if the Spanish success was confined, like it had previously been historically, to the smallest capacity classes I suspect the outcry about MotoSpain wouldn't exist.
Make no mistake, Dorna aren't happy about it, either. They know endless outings of Viva Espana doesn't play well with international audiences, not without a charismatic <strike>clown</strike> star to win everyone over. Lorenzo has gone from having an arrogant, abrasive personality to having virtually none at all; Pedrosa, when he's not finding new ways at being quiet and unobtrusive in his ivory tower chucks a tanty over some usually trivial (real or imagined) injustice; Marquez has potential, but his tendency to bulldoze his way through everything and everyone is not (yet) likeable enough to mask his passport and the giant golden spoon sticking out of his arse. Sure, deep in his little black heart, Ezy must be a happy camper, as he looks at his F.I.M. MotoGP Results guide (2013 Edition) just before bed-time and sees the rise and rise of Spanish statistics. But the next morning when he wakes up, puts on his game face and dollar-vision glasses, he must leave for work feeling deeply disappointed (and worried) by the failure of the <strike>Golden Goose</strike> silly old hen to lay a 10th egg.
For those who can't bear to listen to the Marcha Real again, the worm will turn. If you look back again to when Americans dominated the 500cc class, winning 13 titles in 16 years, there was no reason to think riders from the U.S. of A. would win only 2 titles in the next 20 years.
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