Another desert folly

I knew the madness of the Gulf Arabs had reached its zenith in December 2008 when, in the middle of the most severe banking crisis in history and the worst recession since modern economics began, it was announced that a hotel was under construction in Dubai that was so luxurious it even had a solution to the Gulf’s perennial problem of foot-scorching beaches. The gods were munificent in endowing the Gulf Arabs with more oil than they could pump but uncharitable in every other natural thing. The weather conditions are unkind for most of the year. Dubai may put about beguiling pictures of beautiful, sandy beaches but try putting your foot on them in, say, August, and you will leave your skin amongst the grains of sand. Solution: a refrigerated beach. A system of heat-absorbing pipes built under the sand and giant wind blowers will work in tandem to deliver perfect beach-combing conditions: mildly warm sands and a cool breeze. With this and the indoor ski resort you need never leave the magical land of Dubai.

But hang on a minute, I hear you remark, isn’t this taking things a touch too far? It isn’t as though the rest of the world has ceased to exist, has it? I mean to say, if I want perfectly clement weather conditions, clear, azure waters, coral reefs and sand that runs comfortably through my toes, why, I am spoiled for choice in the world. There are at least a score of places in the Indian Ocean and plenty others in the Caribbean and the Americas where I can get all of this without having to watch some money-crazed people setting the global warming clock galloping to Armageddon. If I am after a skiing holiday, why would I go to a cavernous hall blowing “snow” out of a tube in the middle of the desert when I can visit any one of several dozen European and American locations with clear blue skies and breathtakingly stunning snow-covered mountains in Europe and North America. This, I am afraid, is the curse of limitless riches. People completely lose touch with reality. They begin to believe that anything, even nature, can be defied by bucketloads of cash.

And so we come to the latest folly: yet another Grand Prix in the Gulf of Arabia. This at a time when a true classic - one of a tiny clutch of Grands Prix which are about the very essence of Formula One, its history and its charm – is under threat. The British Grand Prix may be consigned to the dustbin of history by Mr B. Ecclestone. The owners of Silverstone – including former F1 world champions Jackie Stewart and Damon Hill – refused to accede to Ecclestone’s demands for an escalating series of payments year on year and he, therefore, persuaded the owners of another old British race track, Donington Park, to take the place of Silverstone. Faced with the global economic slump, Donington’s owners found it impossible to raise the initial sums demanded and were forced to admit defeat to Ecclestone. He now faces the unenviable task of going back to the Silverstone chaps with his tail between his legs or find still more dodgy people with large wallets in other parts of the world.

The trouble is that this has now become a dangerous game. Ecclestone’s insatiable appetite for money has finally got to the point where he runs the risk of killing the goose that lays the golden eggs. There are certain races that you simply cannot afford to mess about with. If you get rid of the Monaco Grand Prix, the Italian Grand Prix, the British Grand Prix or the German Grand Prix, you are on the path that leads to the wolves. To make way for races in ridiculous places like Bahrain, Abu Dhabi and the others he is contemplating, Ecclestone has already jettisoned seasonal favourites like the Austrian Grand Prix, the Canadian Grand Prix and the United States Grand Prix. At this rate, Ecclestone’s epitaph will certainly be “the man who killed Formula One”. I keep wondering why he can’t simply get run over by a bus…

Perhaps one ought not to cavil too much at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix this weekend. For all the billions he has spent on his glittering new circuit, Sheikh Khalifa bin Zayed Al Nahyan has already received as much embarrassment from Interlagos as it is possible to suffer. The fact of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix being the last race of the season with no championship at stake provides an opportunity for a lot of fun. No driver has to hold back and be cautious. More than half the paddock are moving on to different teams next year, so there is the “going out in a blaze of glory” factor to be considered. These things should make for an interesting racing weekend.

With many drivers’ contracts for next year still under negotiation, a fair few will be looking to prove a point in Abu Dhabi so as to enhance their earning potential. A look at the 2009 salaries is instructive:

2009 driver salaries – US $ (m)
1 . K. Raikkonen - Ferrari F60 - 45
2 . L. Hamilton - McLaren Mercedes MP4-24 - 18
3 . F. Alonso - Renault R29 - 15
4 . N. Rosberg - Williams Toyota FW31 - 8.5
5 . F. Massa - Ferrari F60 - 8
6 . J. Trulli - Toyota TF109 - 6.5
7 . S. Vettel - Red Bull Renault RB5 - 6
8 . M. Webber - Red Bull Renault RB5 - 5.5
9 . J. Button - Brawn Mercedes BGP 001 - 5
10 . R. Kubica - BMW Sauber F1.09 - 4.5
11 . H. Kovalainen - McLaren Mercedes MP4-24 - 3.5
12 . N. Heidfeld - BMW Sauber F1.09 - 2.8
13 . G. Fisichella - Ferrari F60 - 1.5
14 . S. Buemi - Toro Rosso Ferrari STR4 - 1.5
15 . R. Barrichello - Brawn Mercedes BGP 001 - 1
16 . J. Alguersuari - Toro Rosso Ferrari STR4 - 0.5
17 . A. Sutil - Force India Mercedes VJM02 - 0
18 . K. Nakajima - Williams Toyota FW31 - 0
19 . V. Liuzzi - Force India Mercedes VJM02 - 0
20 . R. Grosjean - Renault R29 – 0

You can probably see now why Ferrari were so keen to get rid of Kimi Raikkonen! This also shows me that Barrichello probably earned a fair bit in his Ferrari days because a measly $1 million doesn’t do an awful lot for a guy with his lifestyle (you might have read that Jenson Button flew back to England in Barrichello’s private jet after winning the world championship in Brazil). It will be interesting to compare this with next year’s list.

I hope it is an exciting race – after all, the Sheikh’s billions should at the very least have built a challenging circuit! – and that you will,

Enjoy Abu Dhabi!

Gitau29 October 2009

Button and Brawn win in Brazil

He did it. Jenson Button is the 2009 Formula One world champion. By driving from fourteenth place on the grid to fifth at the end of yesterday’s Brazilian Grand Prix, Button ensured that he had entered the annals of Formula One history. The debate about whether or not Button is a worthy champion has now been rendered irrelevant by the simple fact that he is; especially in a country like England where, for the media, you are only ever as good as your last triumph. The best one can do is remind oneself that only five other men in the history of Formula One have achieved the quite extraordinary feat of winning six out of seven successive races. This was not predicted by any commentator, least of all yours truly. If anything, Brawn was expected to be a minor team, lower down the ranks than Force India and Torro Rosso.

Rarely in sporting history itself has every expert been proved so comprehensively wrong. I was thinking about this as I went to bed last night and recalled the 1974 classic boxing match, the “Rumble in the Jungle”, between Muhammad Ali and George Forman. Not only did every pundit expect Ali to lose awfully, they feared he would get badly hurt. Foreman was young, fit and devastatingly powerful. With fists the size of loaves of bread, Foreman had made short work of Ali’s most formidable opponents before accepting Ali’s challenge. In his private moments - when he was not able to swagger about or call Foreman ugly - Ali must himself have feared a heavy defeat. But, come the day of the fight, Ali did it. He knocked out Foreman and became heavyweight champion of the world.

After a season dominated by the lime green and black logo of the white Brawn GP cars, it is easy to forget that Brawn GP did not exist until ten months ago. This was an F1 team cobbled together in a hurry after Honda made the (to my mind, short-sighted) decision to exit Formula One. Ross Brawn and his gang of mechanics - somehow -managed to build championship winning cars from the spare parts Honda had left lying around in their Northhamptonshire factory in their haste to return to Japan. The team’s self-belief and commitment in the face of all the odds propelled them to achieving the impossible. A privately owned, cash-starved, little team ended its debut season by winning both the F1 constructors’ championship and the drivers’ championship. This has never been done before.

Whereas most teams start the year with sponsor’s logos liberally posted all over their cars – look, for example, at the prominent place occupied by Vodafone on the McLaren team livery – the Brawn cars were almost embarrassingly clear of advertising when the season began in Melbourne. As the season progressed and the team’s bankability was repeatedly proved, a smattering of advertising began to creep onto the pristinely white bodies of the cars, helmets and overalls of Jenson Button and Rubens Barrichello. Virgin weighed in, then MIG Investments, Ray Ban and a gaggle of others. This demonstrated more than the fact that Brawn GP was proving itself a safe bet: it meant that not only did Ross Brawn have to apply his technical and commercial nous in managing the team, he had to divert his attention to buttering up sponsors for much needed funding. If Ross Brawn is not knighted in the new year honours list for 2010 for outstanding British achievement, I will eat my shoes.

It was a thrilling weekend of motor racing. Qualifying was wet, chaotic and brilliant. By the end of it there seemed no doubt that Jenson Button had blown all his chances of clinching the world championship at Interlagos. His closest rival, team-mate Rubens Barrichello, was on pole at his home Grand Prix while Button languished in fourteenth place. As we now know, Button chose to be a daredevil and pull overtaking manoeuvre after overtaking manoeuvre as though his life depended upon it and everyone is now rejoicing.

Well, not quite everyone. A moneyed chap in a palace in Abu Dhabi, Sheikh Khalifa bin Zayed Al Nahyan, is seething with fury as I write this. The Sheikh feels like a man who has lost his trousers in an unsafe bet (come to think of it, the Sheikh isn’t too keen on trousers, but I am sure you get the picture). Having been assured of a place on the F1 timetable which guaranteed that the spotlight fell on Abu Dhabi after the billions he had poured into yet another Gulf white elephant (“listen Sheikh, old man, the statistics show that most championships go right down to the wire at the last race of the season”), the Sheikh must be feeling prepared to consider sautéed Ecclestone testicles for dinner. As the traditional Formula One circuits of Europe grew ever more adept at giving Bernie Ecclestone a curt middle-fingered salute, the malevolent little man had to seek out richer, less scrupulous people to fleece. But now that both championships have been settled in Brazil, who can say hand on heart that they will cry into their beer if they miss the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix a fortnight hence?

Tempted as I am to point fingers at Sheikh Khalifa and go “Ha Ha Ha!,” I am being unfair. This is not the time for schadenfreude. Nor is it the time to be engaging in querulous complaint, that favourite pastime of British journalists. It is the time to be celebrating the achievements of Jenson Button and the boys at Brawn GP. Well done lads!

Finally, just in case you were wondering where Jessica Michibata now features in the new world champion’s thinking, this is what he had to say after the Brazilian Grand Prix yesterday: “I want to thank my family and my girlfriend Jessica. I love you so much, this is for you.”

Gitau
19 October 2009

Interlagos: a nation waits

You will not be thanked for mentioning the word “Brazil” anywhere near the White House for a long while. Barack Obama – a man who had been persuaded to believe he walked on water – felt certain a few weeks ago that his global appeal was sufficient to swing anything. He had convinced himself that his unquestionable star quality was enough to convince the members of the IOC to ignore Rio de Janeiro and choose his home city of Chicago as the host city for the 2016 Olympic Games.

Obama’s political advisor, a wily cove called David Axelrod, probably took a look at pictures of the Brazilian president, imagined him standing next to Barack Obama and thought “no contest here, man, Rio’s goose is stewed!” It is not difficult to follow Axelrod’s reasoning. While Barack Obama is tall, athletic-looking, young and handsome, Luiz Inácio da Silva (Lula) is short, stout, hirsute, old and repellent. He looks like the sort of evil loan shark you find in a dark, smelly, pawnshop when you are on the bones of your arse and prepared to sell your soul for a bit of cash.

What Axelrod had not reckoned upon were the pictures of beautiful, bikini-wearing Brazilian maidens (this is the home of the Brazilian wax, remember) gambolling along Copacabana beach which the Brazilian delegation had plastered everywhere they could in the IOC meeting hall in Copenhagen. What Lula da Silva and his mates had planned was the inevitable consequence: the good gentlemen of the IOC positioned their brains firmly a few inches below their belts and reached for their pens. To a man they awarded the 2016 Olympic Games to the ladies of Copacabana…I beg your pardon…to the city of Rio de Janeiro. Barack Obama was forced to climb the steps of Air Force One thinking murderous thoughts of David Axelrod.

The Formula One action this weekend is in Brazil but not in as scenic a location as Rio de Janeiro. The Interlagos circuit is old, shabby and located next to a sprawling slum with a propensity to release unpleasant things like stray dogs in the path of screaming F1 cars (which isn’t exactly in keeping with the prestigious traditions of Formula One, but there we are). Still, there is something to be said for a “jua kali” (panel-beaten in the baking noonday sun) circuit. Unlike modern computer generated circuits which completely ignore the natural lay of the land and require heavy bulldozing and expensive concrete work to accomplish, Interlagos follows the natural contours and twists of its home.

This gives you an uphill starting grid, roller-coasteresque drops, odd bends and generally a really fun day (if you’re watching, that is!). Add in rain and the woefully inadequate drainage of Interlagos and you have a circuit designed in hell for drivers and crafted by angels for spectators. Who can ever forget the chaotic, rain-sodden 2003 Brazilian Grand Prix when a torrent of rain water came sweeping downhill and caused half a dozen cars – including that of rain-expert, Michael Schumacher- to aquaplane helplessly and crash into the barriers?

Interlagos was not renowned as a world championship deciding location until the 21st century but it has now taken over from Suzuka as the place where, in mafioso parlance, champions “get made”. The last two new champions, Fernando Alonso and Lewis Hamilton, achieved immortality at Interlagos. Alonso by finishing third in 2005 and Hamilton by causing hearts to stop around the world and scraping fifth place at the last corner of the last lap of the last race of 2008. Since neither of these chaps had been champion before, you could argue that the omens look encouraging for the boy from Frome, Somerset, Jenson Button.

Button alone among the three title contenders has the luxury of not having to go hell for leather. Each of Sebastian Vettel and Rubens Barrichello know that to be world champion they will have to win in Brazil. For Vettel, winning the championship in 2009 at the age of 22 would be very handy as it would allow him to eclipse Lewis Hamilton as the youngest ever Formula One world champion. Nevertheless, I don’t expect too many tears from the young German if he is unsuccessful. After the troubles he has had this season, I think he will be delighted to say at the end of it that he kept himself in the running until the bitter end. For Barrichello, the story is very different.

Interlagos is the circuit closest to Barrichello’s home. He cut his racing teeth there. It is, bizarrely, plagued by bad luck for Barrichello. He has had all manner of mishaps on his way to victory at home – including running out of fuel in 2003 while leading the pack to a certain win. I hate to think what is going through his mind now. Since the death of Ayrton Senna, Brazil, a sports-obsessed nation has won the football world cup twice but had no Formula One world champion. An emotional people were brought, as one, to their feet as Felipe Massa won the 2008 Brazilian Grand Prix but ended up heart-broken when seconds later an Englishman took the bigger prize as world champion.

This year, Brazil suffered the emotional torment of seeing a near repeat of Senna’s horrific death in a crash at Imola in 1994 when Felipe Massa was horrifically injured in Hungary by a loose part from the car of – wait for it - Rubens Barrichello! Barrichello, an emotional man, was friends with Senna and was deeply affected by Senna’s death. The Massa crash shook him but probably intensified his focus on the challenge he faced.

Brazil wants, nay, needs a world champion. The country will not rest easily if, yet again, defeat has to be conceded to yet another native of Her Britannic Majesty’s dominions. In the awful knowledge of all of this and the fact that 2009 is his last ever chance of being the new Brazilian F1 hero, Rubens Barrichello would happily donate his left bollock to science if it would guarantee him the prize which has for so long eluded him.

The prospect of rain at Interlagos has been mentioned by some. This is splendid news. It would, therefore, be unwise to make any plans for Saturday or Sunday afternoons. Settle down somewhere comfortable, instead, and,

Enjoy Brazil!

Gitau
16 October 2009

Suzuka fails to deliver star quality

If you want a weather vane of star quality, look no further than the contrasting media fortunes of Nicole Scherzinger and Jessica Michibata, Jenson Button’s girlfriend. Not many Formula One drivers’ wives or girlfriends end up becoming an essential part of the F1 landscape but Nicole has. If Lewis Hamilton has an off-circuit moment, performs a dramatic overtaking manoeuvre or, worst of all, is involved in a heavy accident, the television cameras instantly switch to Nicole’s face so that the entire world can see every last twitch of her reaction. We haven’t had this since the late 1990s when the face of Erja, the wife of Mika Hakkinen, was as much a feature of F1 television courage as her husband’s driving ability. It has given Nicole’s face a ubiquity which performing as a Pussycat Doll could never do in a month of Sundays. Nicole, in short, has attained star quality. This, I assure you, will not have gone unnoticed by the lovely Jessica who, while a desirable model in her own right, cannot yet claim to possess star quality.

In Noel Coward’s play Star Quality, an ageing actress is so determined to attain that elusive quality that she will stop at nothing. At one point during rehearsals for a play she hurls the play’s director across the dressing room and has to be reminded that “we’re putting on a play, not fighting a war!”

I can see Jenson Button having a conversation in similar vein with Jessica.

Jenson: We’re a step closer to the big goal, darling.
Jessica: But, Jenson, you promised me that you would finish it in Japan, darling. Now what?
Jenson: I know, I know, sugar lump, but all is not lost…
Jessica (raising her voice irritably): But this is Suzuka! You told me more championships are decided here than anywhere else. I told everyone. Now I just look stupid!
Jenson (sighs): I wouldn’t go quite that far, Jess. After all, I am still in the game and surely winning it matters more than where you win it, doesn’t it?
Jessica (beginning to lose it): You don’t understand! This is my home country. I could have eclipsed Nicole today. She would be nothing now!
Jenson (understanding swiftly dawning on him, chooses his remarks carefully): Jess, love, I’ll take you to Copacabana for some you and me time after the next race and we can put all of this to the back of our minds.
Jessica (sobbing): Jenson, please, please don’t deny me the world championship. I deserve it more than that American bitch.
Jenson: (embracing her): There, there, Jess. Relax, darling. The battle’s nearly over.

It is not too far fetched an assumption to suggest that Mr Button is rather more stressed than he has ever been. Not long ago he was the toast of the world; the driver who couldn’t seem to put a foot wrong. Now, the recurring question is whether he has it in him to become world champion. Every commentator now wonders how things came to be so bad. In another woeful day at the office for Button yesterday, Sebastian Vettel won the race commandingly and cut the gap between him and the leader to 16 points while Rubens Barrichello earned 2 more points than Button to cut his own point deficit to 14 points. A deep breath is required now. Let’s not all get carried away.

If you look at where Jenson Button is, you begin to understand Fernando Alonso’s frustration at McLaren in 2007. McLaren refused to accord Alonso the “respect” he felt he deserved as a double world champion. In Alonso’s eyes it was the team’s duty to order Hamilton, a mere rookie, to support him in his championship campaign. If Rubens Barrichello’s role was to support Jenson Button - like it was to support Michael Schumacher when he was employed by Ferrari – he would already be world champion. Having to fight his own team-mate has made things infinitely more difficult and proportionally increased my respect for the man. He capitalised on events when he could at the start of the season (while everyone else was scrambling to make sense of dramatic new regulations) and, now that the rest of the pack’s cars have equalled and even surpassed his own car’s capabilities, he is being cleverly conservative.

Even if Jenson Button does not win another race this season, he will have six wins to his credit at the end of it. That, remember, is one more than Lewis Hamilton was able to achieve in his 2008 championship winning season. The Cassandras of this world argue that if Button is crowned world champion, he will somehow have “lucked his way into it”. The argument is that he exploited a loophole involving dodgy diffusers at the start of the season, stole a march on everyone else and was no match for the big boys when the odds were evened out later on. Nonsense. The rules were the same for everybody. It is a 17 race season. The chap with the most points at the end of it wins the world championship. Quite simple when you think about it. Two years hence, anybody reading the list of past championships won’t begin wondering whether Button’s wins were evenly spread throughout the season or not. The records will simply say: “Jenson Button, World Drivers’ Championship Champion 2009. And nobody will ever be able to take that away from the Somerset lad. But first, he is going have to become world champion.

Given the new state of play after Suzuka what would you do if you were Ross Brawn? You have an English driver with talent but a worrying degree of conservatism in choppy waters containing many sharks. The hungriest of the sharks are Vettel and Hamilton. Vettel is not giving up until the final chequered flag has been waved. Hamilton wouldn’t mind a couple more wins for reasons of kudos (it is important to have lots of front page exposure if you wish to retain good earning potential and keep Nicole happy). You also have a temperamental but talented and experienced driver in Barrichello. Any hint that you are leaning towards favouring Button is not going to endear you to Barrichello. But how do you ensure that you keep both chaps happy and ensure the Brawn team’s survival?

Here’s how. Engineer things so that Barrichello wins in Brazil. You can’t do better than win at home. Separately, tell Button that you want Barrichello to win in Brazil and for him to come second or, at least, third. Result: Barrichello has his day at home, Button becomes world champion, lots of British sponsorship money flows into Brawn and everybody is happy. QED.

We are at the stage in every tightly contested championship when jangled nerves get raw. I love it.

Gitau
05 October 2009

Suzuka, Japan's gift to the world

In the mid 1990s I found myself on secondment to the London branch of a gargantuan Japanese bank. Of the many things I found peculiar about the experience, the best was the hauntingly beautiful presence of a Japanese “hostess” called Tsukasa.

Tsukasa’s job was to look after the needs of the expatriate Japanese management. If any of them required a family holiday, Tsukasa would arrange an exotic trip to Chile. If a manager felt hungry and desirous of well prepared sushi, Tsukasa was his girl. Over and above everything else, Tsukasa’s job was to arrange golfing sessions at the top golf courses in the South-East of England for her Japanese bosses. Golf mattered so much to these chaps that it surpassed work by a considerable factor. Writing off the afternoon after giving oneself up to the sumptuous food and wine available at, say, Le Gavroche, was heavily frowned upon. In sharp contrast, taking the day off to play golf at Wentworth or St Georges Hill was not merely indulged but positively encouraged.

As Tsukasa minced her way bewitchingly around the open plan floors of the bank approaching each manager with radiance and fawning respect, I was sometimes able to snatch a few moments of her attention. This way, I came to understand the significance of the game of golf to the Japanese. It is akin to a religion in their country because land comes at such a vast premium in places like Tokyo that giving up acres of it for a golf course is almost criminally wasteful. You, therefore, need serious wonga to be a frequent golfer in Japan. Joining one of the top clubs will set you back eye-wateringly large sums of money. If, for instance, you wish to join the super-exclusive Koganei Country Golf Club, be prepared to part with ¥65,000,000 (roughly $723,000). Very serious wonga indeed.

While not enjoying the same cachet as golf, motor racing – and Formula One in particular - is not very far off in the mind of the average Japanese sports fan. Apart from the obvious fact that racing circuits, like golf courses, require lots of acres of land, Formula One is about glamour and the Japanese certainly enjoy that in spades. For corporate entertainment, if you can’t offer a weekend at Koganei, you could do a lot worse than obtain decent Grand Prix tickets with corporate hospitality thrown in.

One day, Tsukasa came onto my floor armed with a few important looking gilt-edged envelopes. She minced her way from Japanese manager to Japanese manager handing over the envelopes and smiling sweetly. She had run out of envelopes by the time she got to my mate, Hirai-san, and quietly withdrew. Each envelope contained an invitation to a prestigious golfing tournament at the Sunningdale Golf Club in Berkshire. At this realisation Hirai-san looked more crestfallen than I had ever known anyone to look. He sat still as a post quietly staring out of the window at the City beyond and contemplating hara-kiri. Tsukasa re-emerged, daintily walked up to Hirai-san and handed him a purple envelope. When he opened it, his suicidal expression was replaced by a toothy grin. “Ah so!” he declared. To soften the blow, the ever resourceful Tsukasa had arranged an all expenses paid trip to the Japanese Grand Prix at Suzuka. Hirai-san was pleased.

I often sought ways of exploring Tsukasa’s resourcefulness outside the bank but, regrettably, was never successful. Privileges such as Tsukasa offered were exclusively for those born in the land of the rising sun, not those born within the sound of Bow Bells - still less those born on the slopes of Kĩrĩnyaga. Like I did 13 years ago, I will have to get up early in London on Saturday and Sunday and watch the action in Suzuka through my Japanese manufactured television equipment.

Of the two active F1 circuits in Japan (Suzuka and Fuji) Suzuka is easily the better one. For many drivers it is a proper driver’s circuit and easily the best one there is. Lewis Hamilton – who is at Suzuka for the first time ever – concurs enthusiastically. Michael Schumacher, a devastatingly efficient winner here (6 times!), marginally placed Spa above Suzuka (partly, I think, for emotional reasons) but had enormous respect for this circuit.

With this being the first of the final three races of the season, the championship battle is shaping up quite nicely. If Jenson Button finishes 5 points ahead of his Brazilian team-mate, Rubens Barrichello, he will be crowned world champion on Sunday. That is to say, if Button wins the race and Barrichello is fourth or worse, the battle is over. Short of an accident taking Barrichello out or a mechanical failure on his car, I cannot see this as being remotely possible.

Barrichello is fired up and driving better than he has ever driven in his career. With the exception of last weekend, where Button managed to finish one place ahead of the Brazilian, the second half of the season in the Brawn team has belonged exclusively to Barrichello. One can sense that he wants this more than Button. He is like a cheetah that hasn’t eaten for a whole week and knows that he has to put in a life-sapping 70 mph run chasing down an antelope if he is to have any hope of survival. Barrichello means to take this championship down to the wire. He knows the best he can do is aim to win every race and hope that something happens behind him affecting Button. What is more, Barrichello has won a Grand Prix at Suzuka before. Do not bet against Barrichello being world champion. We have seen more dramatic ends to a season.

From the reports I am reading about rain interrupting this afternoon’s practice session at Suzuka, the omens look good for a wet weekend. Wet races make all the difference to one’s enjoyment. And they are rather better to watch from the comfort of one’s living room, Kirin beer in hand, than at an open stand on a chilly afternoon in Japan! Catch it live if you can and,

Enjoy Suzuka!

Gĩtaũ
02 October 2009