Is celebrity Hamilton's curse
”The trouble with these black geezers is they have no discipline,`` said the London cabbie as he steered his way round Hoxton Square.``No disrespect to you, mate, but you see it all the time. Give a fella a bit of cash and put ‘im on the telly a few times, and see what happens. He loses it. He starts thinkin’ ‘es Royalty or somefink. No disrespect to the guy, mate, don’t get me wrong, that Lewis Hamilton knows what ‘es doin’ when ‘es behind the wheel of a racing car. He can wring a car’s neck like the best of them, but there’s no self control there, no discipline. Now he’s got ‘imself thinkin’ he’s a big time celebrity and lost focus completely.”
“I ‘ad that Hamilton in the back of my cab the other night. He was a-kissin and a-canoodling with that Nicole Pussy Cat Doll like there was no tomorrow. Don’t get me wrong, mate, I’d give her one any day. Right now if you want – you can ‘ave me cab – but this weekend is the British Grand Prix. This is no poxy desert race track that’s here today gone tomorrow. This is the dog’s bollocks! This is the home of Formula One! And what’s that Hamilton doin’? Is he pumpin’ in laps at Silverstone? Nah, he’s busy behavin’ like a fahkin rapper, that’s what. That’s what I’m talking abaht. No fahkin’ discipline! Do you fink you would catch Jim Clarke or Jackie Stewart doin’ that? No fahkin’ way! But these black geezers? I don’t know, mate, I really don’t.”
These choice words of sublime wisdom - delivered in time honoured fashion by a member of the world’s greatest class of encyclopeadic intellectualism, the Licensed London Cabbie Club – encapsulate the overriding sentiment felt on these shores about Lewis Hamilton. You can distil it down to one sentence: the boy has great talent but fame and fortune have gone to his head and he has lost his ability to deliver what is expected of him in Formula One. Hamilton has a mountain to climb to get the British public back behind him and, more importantly, start doing something about narrowing his widening points deficit in the Formula One drivers’ championship.
Hamilton has this in his favour: the British are fickle. A year ago Gordon Brown was a reliable, firm father figure the nation could turn to after years of presentation politics. Now he makes everyone want to puke. Twelve months ago, Andy Murray was a surly Scot who did not deserve membership of the All England Club. Now he is an all conquering hero, the new Tim Henman. In a nation which rarely excels at anything in international sport, the British are in sore need of a sporting super star. A good rebirth for Hamilton would be victory at the British Grand Prix.
Silverstone is easily one of the best circuits in the world. It is challenging and fast. Everybody loves it. Stupidly, I failed to get my arse in gear quick enough for tickets this year, so I won’t be watching the race live, which is a shame. Still, you see more on television.
We havea stonker of a championship battle to observe now, friends. 2008 is proving to be a season to look back upon in wonder. I make no predictions this time save to say that I have no doubt at all that you will,
Enjoy Silverstone
Gitau
4 July 2008
“I ‘ad that Hamilton in the back of my cab the other night. He was a-kissin and a-canoodling with that Nicole Pussy Cat Doll like there was no tomorrow. Don’t get me wrong, mate, I’d give her one any day. Right now if you want – you can ‘ave me cab – but this weekend is the British Grand Prix. This is no poxy desert race track that’s here today gone tomorrow. This is the dog’s bollocks! This is the home of Formula One! And what’s that Hamilton doin’? Is he pumpin’ in laps at Silverstone? Nah, he’s busy behavin’ like a fahkin rapper, that’s what. That’s what I’m talking abaht. No fahkin’ discipline! Do you fink you would catch Jim Clarke or Jackie Stewart doin’ that? No fahkin’ way! But these black geezers? I don’t know, mate, I really don’t.”
These choice words of sublime wisdom - delivered in time honoured fashion by a member of the world’s greatest class of encyclopeadic intellectualism, the Licensed London Cabbie Club – encapsulate the overriding sentiment felt on these shores about Lewis Hamilton. You can distil it down to one sentence: the boy has great talent but fame and fortune have gone to his head and he has lost his ability to deliver what is expected of him in Formula One. Hamilton has a mountain to climb to get the British public back behind him and, more importantly, start doing something about narrowing his widening points deficit in the Formula One drivers’ championship.
Hamilton has this in his favour: the British are fickle. A year ago Gordon Brown was a reliable, firm father figure the nation could turn to after years of presentation politics. Now he makes everyone want to puke. Twelve months ago, Andy Murray was a surly Scot who did not deserve membership of the All England Club. Now he is an all conquering hero, the new Tim Henman. In a nation which rarely excels at anything in international sport, the British are in sore need of a sporting super star. A good rebirth for Hamilton would be victory at the British Grand Prix.
Silverstone is easily one of the best circuits in the world. It is challenging and fast. Everybody loves it. Stupidly, I failed to get my arse in gear quick enough for tickets this year, so I won’t be watching the race live, which is a shame. Still, you see more on television.
We havea stonker of a championship battle to observe now, friends. 2008 is proving to be a season to look back upon in wonder. I make no predictions this time save to say that I have no doubt at all that you will,
Enjoy Silverstone
Gitau
4 July 2008
posted by Gitau at 1:01 pm
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