Mystifying Magny-Cours

You know the oil companies are in deep PR trouble when they are forced to find ever more creative ways of justifying their existence. It must take untold concentration for oil company executives to have to fight against every sinew to keep from shouting "yes!" as the fuel price flies mercilessly skyward. Instead Exxon-Mobil and BP spend millions on television advertising telling us about all the advances they are making in this or that environment-friendly technology but never mention the evil word "oil".

Yesterday it was the turn of Shell. Felipe Massa - an emotional, Latin man - during the press conference immediately following him stepping off the top step of the podium at Magny-Cours mysteriously became the first driver I have heard publicly sing the praises of an oil company. Massa had just won his first ever French Grand Prix. As if that was not sufficient reason to go berserk, Massa was for the first time in his Formula One career leading the drivers' championship. When asked how he felt after winning the race, this is what he had to say: "The team did a fantastic job – all the suppliers, Shell especially, because all the time we need to bring good fuel and good lubricants as well, so it was a great job from everybody."

Really? Is this supposed to be news for us, Felipe? Are we supposed to start loving the bastards at Shell? But what else is a giant oil company to do in these ghastly days? The poor chaps at Shell have to do something, haven’t they? I mean to say, here we were suspending disbelief (and jettisoning principle) while watching as pointless an activity as there possibly can be (that is to say, if we are serious about cutting back on the use of fossil fuels and saving our fragile planet). On a normal day, the thought of twenty cars charging round a circuit for seventy laps burning hundreds of gallons of precious fuel doesn't fill you with undying love for Shell while you fill your car up at a Shell petrol station with fuel at £1.20, does it? Well, it is for this reason that Massa had to do his PR bit yesterday. He also saved me a small fortune; but I value my limbs too much to linger on this particular subject...

Magny-Cours is not renowned for producing bizarre races but the circuit's swansong disproved the rule (yes, once again, we are told that there will be no more Formula One racing at the Circuit de Nevers Magny-Cours - let's wait and see). Mystery dogged the race from the start. Was it or was it not going to rain? Every Lewis Hamilton fan out there was praying hard for rain. Unable to do any better than come third in Saturday qualifying, Hamilton started the race in thirteenth place and needed rain and some chaos if he was going to score any meaningful points at Magny-Cours. In the event, after ominous forecasts of thunderstorms thirty minutes into the race, all we got we got were a few miserable droplets of rain at around lap seventeen which were not sufficient to cause any difficulties for anyone.

What was more mystifying was the decision-making of the race stewards. Two decisions struck me as decidedly odd. First, Lewis Hamilton was forced to suffer a drive through penalty for having gained an advantage by cutting a chicane - effectively, taking a short cut off the circuit. From the beginning, Hamilton was on a charge. He wanted to gain as many places as he could so as to salvage as many points as possible before leaving France. At turn seven, while dicing with the Toro Rosso of Sebastian Vettel, his car was briefly thrown off the circuit but he rejoined the circuit seconds later.

What is important, though, is that Hamilton cut the chicane after his overtaking manoeuvre, not before. In other words, he did not successfully overtake another car by means of a short cut. Had he done so and not given the place back, as the rules require him to do, his punishment would have been clearly deserved. In the circumstances, it is difficult to see what the stewards considered to be so objectionable about his driving that it was worthy of a drive through penalty which ruined his race. For my money, this was unduly harsh. But I do not have the benefit of the various camera angles enjoyed by the race stewards as they examine each such incident over many minutes, so cannot say definitively.

Second and more mystifying was the non-decision regarding Kimi Raikkonen. Comfortably leading the race by a useful margin, Raikkonen's Ferrari began to slow down about halfway through the race and he was forced to concede first place to his team-mate. The reason became clear when the Ferrari hove into camera view. Raikkonen had broken his exhaust and it was hanging perilously in the air as he raced past. This, for my money, was a clear black-flag incident. Raikkonen should have been forced to abandon the race immediately. His car was in danger of depositing a nasty piece of metal in the path of another car or driver and, therefore, should not have been anywhere on a race track. Instead, Raikkonen was permitted to drive his car for the rest of the race and managed to secure second place; thus salvaging a crucial eight world championship points.

We have seen evidence of inconsistency from the stewards many times before - particularly during the era of Michael Schumacher at Ferrari - so this is not new or surprising. If you are ever told that a driver enjoyed the benefit of a dodgy rule interpretation, you will not need to be told which team he was driving for!

Enough of that. It was pleasant to see the return of Jarno Trulli to the podium after an absence of more than two years. I have always liked the jolly Italian but could not agree with his view that his and Toyota's success meant good luck for the Italian football team in its game against Spain yesterday evening. Perhaps inevitably, they lost.

Consistent point scoring is what makes for a world championship. Robert Kubica's fifth place yesterday places him conveniently behind Massa in the drivers' championship (Hamilton really ought to borrow a leaf from the Pole’s book). With Raikkonen and Hamilton not terribly far behind, we have the first genuine four way championship we have seen in a long time. Splendid!

Gitau
23 June 2008

France, the beautiful country

"What is it about France that you like so much," said Dimitri, my Russian friend, a couple of months ago as he and I walked along a busy street in the City of London in search of a convenient bolt-hole for a refreshing after-work snifter. I had just returned from "mourning" the passing of my fortieth year in Corsica and was filled with the joys of spring.
"A million and one reasons, Dimitri," I said, "but let's take one for the sake of argument. La Marseillaise is the best national anthem in the world." Dimitri snorted and harrumphed. His patriotism had been impugned.

"If that is your reason, you should have instead considered visiting Russia to celebrate such an important occasion," he said. "The Russian anthem is better than any other. That glorious anthem used to make the world shit when it was the Soviet anthem! People heard it and respected Soviet power. And anyway, what is this stupid Marseillaise?"
I needed no further bidding to begin humming the famous chorus: "taran-tara-taran-tara- ra-ra".

At that moment something decidedly curious happened. An elegantly dressed girl walking a couple of yards ahead of us turned round to face me, flashed me a beautiful smile, shouted "très bien!" and then blew me a kiss. She then carried on along her merry way as if affectionately congratulating a stranger's appreciation of La Marseillaise was the most natural thing in the world to do. Dimitri was stunned.
"That girl is beautiful," he said. "Why did she do that?"
"I'd love to say it was because of my charming magnetism but can't," I said. "The truth is quite simple really: she did it because she's French."
"Wow," said Dimitri, "I see now why you love France so much."

If you watched Thierry Henry and his men getting unceremoniously booted out of Euro 2008 this week by Italy, this weekend will allow you an opportunity to forget your grief. For, contrary to my fears this time last year, France will host the French Grand Prix at the Circuit de Nevers Magny-Cours this weekend. Truth be told, this is not a particularly brilliant circuit and it is located in an unexceptional part of France. Still, this race may be significant in the world championship because it could portend a great deal. We are at a crucial point in the drivers' championship and the result on Sunday matters more than is immediately apparent. I am curious to see how some drivers will behave after the bizarre race we witnessed a fortnight ago in Montreal.

The chap with the most to prove is the driver who did not seem capable of putting a foot wrong for most of 2007: the English boy wonder Lewis Hamilton. The week before the Canadian Grand Prix, Anthony Hamilton, sire of Lewis Hamilton, found himself scratching his head in embarrassment after he had crashed a Porsche Carrera GT worth £330,000 through a hedge while driving slowly not terribly far from his house. In Montreal it was the turn of the younger, more talented Hamilton. Anxious to rejoin the circuit after a pit-stop during a safety car situation, Lewis failed to notice that the light at the end of the pit lane was red and two cars were waiting for it to turn green before accelerating back onto the circuit. Noticing his error too late, he tried braking and swerving but it was all too late. He crashed his McLaren Mercedes into the back of the stationary Ferrari of Kimi Raikkonen and managed to wreck both cars. Robert Kubica parked to the right of the Ferrari saw the mayhem on his left and knew then that his day had come. He silently thanked his Gods for their extraordinary munificence and went on to become the first ever BMW-Sauber driver and the first ever Pole to win a Formula One Grand Prix.

Lewis Hamilton's cringe worthy gaffe was not only viewed dimly by Raikkonen (who, unsurprisingly, called it "stupid"), it also raised the eyebrows of the race stewards. Rightly, Hamilton will be penalised this weekend. Irrespective of how well he qualifies on Saturday, he will be demoted ten places down the grid. Magny-Cours is usually a race won on pit strategy, so there may be a chance for the lad but, frankly, I can't see it. That ridiculous error may well cost him dear. By gifting the race to the ever consistent Mr Kubica, Hamilton has set the rumour mill spinning more furiously than I have known in a long while.

Kubica clearly has the makings of a champion. Others - including Bernie Ecclestone - have said that he and Fernando Alonso are currently the best drivers in Formula One. The improvement in the fortunes of BMW has been such that it would be bordering on insanity for Kubica to contemplate anything other than signing a long term contract with the team. At the same time, Alonso's hounds have been seen sniffing around the BMW paddock. It comes as no surprise to anyone that the two times world champion would dearly love to be back in a competitive car as soon as possible. BMW would suit him perfectly. Similarly, given the satisfactory but hardly stellar performance of Kubica's team-mate, Nick Heidfeld, it does not require too many brain cells to work out that BMW would also view the enrolment of Alonso favourably. The only question mark for the team would be whether he can tame his prima donna tendencies and accept equal parity with Kubica. The last thing BMW need is a repeat of the nonsensical situation at McLaren between Alonso and Hamilton in 2007.

A word about matters more celebratory. A week ago, Renault team owner and billionaire, Flavio Briatore, married 28-year-old former Wonderbra model, Elisabetta Gregoraci, in a glittering ceremony attended by, among others, Silvio Berlusconi, Bernie Ecclestone and everybody else who matters in Anglo-Italian sport. Brushing aside snide sniggers at the 30+ years age gap, Flav was in top form as he stepped out in his shiny grey penguin suit and, bizarrely, black velvet sandals, each bearing the initials "FE" for Flavio and Elisabetta.. "I'm as excited as if a Grand Prix race was starting," said Flav. Isn't Elisabetta a lucky girl?

Magny-Cours tends to be a rather predictable race. This is one of those circuits which scream "Ferrari!" at every corner. There is no gainsaying the success Michael Schumacher enjoyed at Magny-Cours. Eight wins (two with Benetton, though) is nothing short of remarkable. I will stick my neck out for this one. I think Schumacher protégé, Felipe Massa, will win it. Anyone fancy a wager against me? Prompt payment on Monday. Meanwhile,

Enjoy Magny-Cours!

Gitau
20 June 2008

Montreal: Hamilton's home

"I have cooked pancakes, baba!" yelled Sello into my room at the crack of dawn one morning. I was at university sharing student digs with a group of unsavoury characters and Sello was one of them. "Come on, baba," said Sello when he noticed my reluctance to accept his invitation, "the people from Canada have sent me some maple syrup!" Sello was a jolly fellow who enjoyed cooking things for people early in the morning. He never quite understood the words "piss off, I have a hangover". His response would usually be "eish - we don't get those in Soweto!"

Sello was a beneficiary of a scholarship made available by the South African Students' Scholarship Fund ("SASSF"). The fund was a deal between the university students' union and the university as part of the anti-apartheid struggle of the eighties. The idea was to provide a top level university education for black South Africans - invariably exiles - which was otherwise denied them in their racist home. In return for a waiver of academic fees by the university, the students' union (of which every student was a member) agreed to raise the funds for the living expenses of each recipient of a SASSF scholarship. Various fund raising activities were held throughout the year but the principal sources of SASSF funds were a booze levy and clever letter writing. For every pint of beer sold in the union bar, 10p went towards SASSF (which, I assure you, was a massive sacrifice in the days when a pint cost less than £1!). Many an evening while sitting in the union bar, I would be part of a team putting together letters to wealthy people and institutions around the world. One such effort to McGill University in Quebec resulted in a healthy donation towards SASSF and a box containing bottles of maple syrup to be handed out to each SASSF student - hence Sello's eagerness to cook pancakes.

I thought about Sello, SASSF and South Africa as I watched the horrific scenes of foreigners ("makwerekwere") being hounded out of their homes by angry mobs in South African townships recently and felt singularly depressed. How could they? Weren't these the people we were sweating blood over in the evil days? Then I remembered the Canadian donation and perked up a great deal. The letter they sent accompanying their generous cheque said something very memorable: "nobody seems to remember us because we are often overshadowed by our neighbour to the south but at least we can be remembered for having made a positive difference in the fight against apartheid". In a time when the United States and Britain were doing all they could to prop up the hated South African apartheid regime, Canada was one of the countries that refused to comply. Canada is also the home of one of the most exciting motor races of the year: the Grand Prix du Canada on Île Notre-Dame in Montreal.

What frustrates many Canadians is the constant linking of their country with one or more others. I raise my hand in guilt at this because I always write about Canada while mentioning its proximity to the United States of America, its head of state – Queen Elizabeth II of England – and the French ancestry of the people of Quebec. What I ought to do is speak about Canada for itself. And so I will. Canada is a breathtakingly beautiful place, has a vibrant, major world economy and a very pleasant population. Most of all, Canada hosts a superb Grand Prix - one of the best on the calendar. This year there is no other Formula One race in North America, so the Canadian Grand Prix should receive the undiluted attention it so richly deserves.

If you cast your mind back to this time a year ago, you will recall that it was at the Canadian Grand Prix when Lewis Hamilton demonstrated his brilliance on a racing circuit. He was so far better than his team-mate, Fernando Alonso, that it was then when all doubts about him - claims that he was no more than a flash in the pan - were comprehensively dispelled. From that day on, Alonso was so spooked that he never again allowed himself a pleasant thought about Hamilton. Never before had I seen anything quite as impressive from a rookie driver. After his stylish victory in Monaco a fortnight ago, I would take a lot of convincing before I put money on any other driver for a win in Montreal tomorrow afternoon. Monaco two weeks ago might have been his greatest race ever but Montreal, the location of his first ever Formula One win, must feel like home to Hamilton.

The one driver raising more questions than any other at the moment is world champion, Kimi Raikkonen. I don’t know what sometimes bites the Finn. His race in Monaco was a shocker. Now he is dropping hints that he may retire at the end of his current contract with Ferrari next year. Is his heart no longer in it? Perhaps he feels he has now made enough to allow himself an uninterrupted lifetime of endless partying. I cannot, hand on heart, begrudge him that but I hope he perks up – and quickly. It would be a shame to lose his quirky brilliance. Everyone has a soft spot for the rake. He is refreshingly different.

Rain has been predicted for the race tomorrow. That always guarantees chaos at the Gilles Villeneuve circuit. During dry races, lapses in concentration usually result in drivers smashing their cars into an inconveniently positioned wall. What more in the wet?

There is a lot else on in the sporting world at the moment but the Canadian Grand Prix is always worth watching. Switch over from Euro 2008 (England aren’t taking part after all!) and,

Enjoy Canada!

Gitau
7 June 2008

Mosley the tactician

"It makes no difference to me what a man does for a living," said Vito Corleone to Virgil Sollozzo in The Godfather. Corleone was explaining that his refusal to take part in the narcotics trade had nothing to do with any personal moral objections. When the lurid story about Max Mosley's sadomasochistic orgy was splashed across the headlines of the News of The World, probably the tawdriest example of the incredibly bad British gutter press you will find, I thought no more of it than pity for a man who had clearly been set up. If a chap wants to spend his evenings paying five prostitutes to whip and cane him while in the all together, so be it. Nothing for me to pass judgment on. It surely cannot be reasonable that the chap should then find that he has been volunteered for a key part in a XXX porn video with neither his consent nor any payment! It seems that Mosley had upset someone enough to arrange for a video film of his, shall we say "unconventional", antics to be taken and made available to a gleeful tabloid journalist. So far, so uncontroversial. But Mosley found himself squarely in the soup.

The orgy alone did not warrant the worldwide headlines after the News of the World expose. If that was all there was to the story, the tabloid’s editors would probably have tucked it away in an inside page and instead dredged up something lurid about a footballer or a minor royal. What did for Mosley was a Nazi spin to the story. The shenanigans with the whores apparently entailed an enactment of a Nazi concentration camp complete with striding “soldiers” bellowing commands and one of the girls dressed in the standard concentration camp striped prisoner uniform. I am not convinced. One of the "glaring" pieces of evidence was that the commands were delivered and accepted in German. Well, Mosley has never made secret of the fact that he studied in Germany in his youth and is fluent in German. "What about the striped uniform?" I hear you ask. One of the girls was wearing a dress with stripes. Don't girls sometimes do that?

Mosley's problem had more to do with his history than anything else. He is the son of British fascist Oswald Mosley who was jailed during the Second World War as a threat to state security because of his long standing association with the German Nazi party. So close was Oswald to the Nazis that he married Max's mother in Berlin at the home of Joseph Goebbels with Adolph Hitler in attendance. The younger Mosley, Max, never shied from defending his father and was even hauled before the courts for attacking anti-fascist demonstrators in 1961. To add to this rather unsavoury list, Mosley dabbled in politics and has long been on the right wing end of the political spectrum. He is famous for being fined for obstructing a policeman while demonstrating in favour of apartheid in the sixties. In an early display of bollocks of steel, Mosley campaigned in the sixties in Moss Side (a black area of Manchester) for blacks to be sent back to their homes.

I do not think it would be thought unreasonable of me to declare that this record places Max Mosley in the box marked “Class SH1T”.

It can, therefore, be safely said that motor racing allowed Mosley an escape route from his past. By concentrating on setting out rules on engine capacity and tyre grooves rather than legislating on the appropriateness of darkie citizens in a northern European country, Mosley was allowed to build a formidable and, some might say, respectable reputation. The embarrassing nature of the tabloid sting does not do much for the man's future respectability but, since the story broke out, he has consistently argued that it has nothing to do with his job. If the Nazi allegations are untrue, you could say that Mosley is right. He decided to test his contention by placing it before the FIA. An extraordinary meeting was convened at the FIA's headquarters in Paris today and a vote among all of the delegates was held.

Mosley won the vote by a clear majority. He took a tactical gamble and won. Vintage Mosley. This has upset some people and could lead eventually to Mosley having to quit despite his decisive win. Various representatives of motor racing organisations around the world have expressed their outrage but it is the Germans who are the most upset. No surprise there. When BMW and Mercedes called for his resignation as the scandal was first hitting the headlines, Mosley "tactfully" reminded the two companies of their own Nazi associations (there is no shortage of photographs of jackbooted Nazi officers giving the Nazi salute from staff cars bearing the unmistakeable badges of the Stuttgart and Munich motor vehicle factories).

For a man who took the thrill out of wheel on wheel driving and replaced it with a competition about tactical thinking, it is perhaps not surprising that Max Mosley should resort to wily tactics to extricate himself from the darkest hole he has ever crawled into in his life. Mosley is a man hardened by history to public opprobrium. He is, it would appear, his father’s son.

Gitau
3 June 2008

Blind eye?

I have been both surprised and flattered by the correspondence I have received since March requesting “my take on the Max Mosley affair”. I have assiduously eschewed comment until now for reasons which will be clear in my next posting.

Gitau
3 June 2008