Circuit Information
LENGTH: 4.8 km / 2.98 miles
CORNERS: 6 left - 8 right
WIDTH: 15 m. / 49.21 ft.
LONGEST STRAIGHT: 762 m.
laps: 24
2/3 of laps: -
Total distance: 115.2 km - 71.5 miles
Weather courtesy of Weather.com
| DAY | HIGH/LOW | COND | PRECIP | WIND | HUMIDITY |
| FRI Oct 9 | 76°F / 54° | mostly sunny | 0% | WSW 9 mph | 52% |
| SAT Oct 10 | 76° / 60° | mostly sunny | 20% | ESE 9 mph | 61% |
| SUN Oct 11 | 66° / 54° | Light Rain | 80% | SW 7 mph | 82% |
What if MotoGP aired on.... Late Night SciFi
NARRATOR: Fans live in the sunlit world of what they believe to be motorsport reality. But... there is, unseen by all save the most fanatically devoted, a seedy underworld; a place just as real, but rarely penetrated by the light... a Darkside.
TALES FROM THE MOTORSPORT DARKSIDE
EXTERIOR: Far shot of the Japanese countryside in early fall at dusk. Camera pans from overhead shot to skimming just above the treeline. Vegetation gives way to a rough hewn path. a group of robed monks traverse the packed earth as they approach a stone shrine set before a massive temple. The group splits, one monk remaining to light candles at the shrine as the others take positions on either side of the gateway to the temple. The monk begin to chant and sway rhythmically.
VOICE: (Translated) Who seeks the wisdom of the voice in the East?
MONK: (With a tick accent) One who is unworthy of such wisdom.
VOICE: (Translated) If your offering is worthy, you may enter.
EXTERIOR: The monk pulls back the robe to reveal a pale, bare arm. He takes a knife from the shrine and slashes into his hand, holding it over a large earthenware bowl. The other monks immediately retrieve large blades from the folds of their robes. Light from the dying sun reflects like flame from the steel.
VOICE: (Mockingly) I find your offering meager, but it earns you passage across the threshold.
EXTERIOR: The monk lifts the bowl and begins to walk to the door. As he passes, each monk slashes their own flesh and add their offering to his. The monk enters the darkened temple as the last rays of the sun die behind him.
INTERIOR: The darkness of the tomb. Light slices into it as torches simultaneously flare to life. There is the sound of scuttling and a fain keening as if the dark itself flees from the touch. On the edges of vision the light doesn't fade as much as it ends, the darkness undulating around it as if trying to force it back. Dust and ruin are revealed in the fain light. A central figure sits on a dais. Robed in a tattered crimson robe, it appears frail - almost emaciated - and ancient. Its head is bowed as if it lacks the energy to raise it, the face hidden behind a fall of scraggly, dirty hair. The skin visible on its arms is shriveled as old parchment.
MONK: (Approaching dais) I think-ah, is no good. I make offering last time, but-ah Abbot, you no help me.
VOICE: (Translated) I have helped you far more than you deserve.
MONK: I give so much ah you, but you still no give championship. I still, ah, work!
VOICE: (Translated) Do you wish us to dissolve our relationship?
MONK: (Pauses) No. I still-ah work with you.
VOICE: (Translated) Give your tribute!
MONK: (Places bowl on dais)
ABBOT: (Raises bowl with trembling hands and sips)
VOICE: (Translated) Speak your desire.
MONK: (Pulls back hood to reveal the face of... Marc Marquez) I-ah want championship!
break for advertising
ABBOT: (Raspy VOICE) Lorenzo, you must... ah, destroy him.
MARQUEZ: You ah, no help me! I bring you tribute and you no help!
ABBOT: I didn't give you rain in, ah, Misano? You didn't have the, ah, victory?
MARQUEZ: Yes, I win in Misano, but Aragon....
ABBOT: (Interrupting) You had the crash, your own fault. Now you come to me again.
MARQUEZ: I not win here. Lorenzo, Dani, they always win.
ABBOT: Dani had the win in 2012, Lorenzo in 2013 and 2014. But what of Rossi?
MARQUEZ: Rossi, he is not the threat. He, ha, 7th in 2012, 6th in 2013 on M1. Last year I beat him. I get the 2nd, he get the 3rd.
ABBOT: (Sips from bowl) Yes. (Stronger) You, ah beat him last year. You become the hero, bring Honda the first championship win at home track.
MARQUEZ: (Determined) I still want championship! I only 74 points behind, we have 100 points left.
ABBOT: (Lifts hood over curly hair, the skin on his hand pale and smooth) Lorenzo, he is only 14 points behind.
MARQUEZ: I must win.
ABBOT: I will, ah, use the power of the tribute. I will bring the rain again. Lorenzo will be slow. You must, ah, fight with Lorenzo. You must beat Lorenzo if you want to win championship.
MARQUEZ: Yes, I beat Lorenzo. (Turns to now visible door as daylight breaks)
ABBOT: Beat the Lorenzo. Rossi, he is no threat.
MARQUEZ: Yes, I beat him! (Leaves)
ABBOT: (Laughing) Yes, fight with-ah, Lorenzo. (Robe falls from head)
ROSSI: Rossi is-ah, no threat at all.
(Roll closing credits)
