In case you are wondering, and even if you’re not I’m going to tell you anyway, the Belgian Grand Prix at Spa-Francorchamps is my 2nd favourite F1 race of the season. It’s a beautiful setting, a challenging course, and coming out of the summer it’s a perfect venue for fireworks to begin anew. ((For the record, my favourite F1 race is and always will be the Monaco Grand Prix.. Sorry you open-wheel sunshine patriots, the UAS! USA!! USA!!! Grand Prix at Austin comes in a distant third….sort of like Vitally Bottas did today, but I’m getting ahead of myself)).
Now I must admit that I missed some the crucial piece of excitement at the start of the rinse since I overslept, but by the time I was bunkered down in front of the amazing moderne technology called television with my large mug of fresh strong coffee instead of a mug of Saison de Fitz from The Grumpy Troll, and a cinnamon roll from Kwik-Trip instead of Waffles de Liege, a new set of top quality excitement was playing out.
Daniel Ricciardo held an enormous lead, and he was nursing his tires to the end because of two pit-stop strategy. Rosberg was on a third stop strategy with soft tires and was gaining mightily on Ricciado’s 20 second lead. Would he catch him and top the podium or have to settle for 2nd.
The aforementioned Vitally Bottas was zipping along in third, troubled by no one, and also troubling no one. Which is kind of rare these days for F1 drivers in the upper echelon of the sport where Bottas, somewhat surprisingly, resides.
The mightiest excitement, and the greatest thrills and spills and rubbin’ is racin’ and have at boys NASCAR style action was the race for 5th place involving rooking Kevin Magnusson, and old boys Fernando Alonso, Jenson Button, and The Jimmie Johnson of F1®, Seb Vettel. Those 4 lads were seriously going at like they were at the Bristol Motor Speedway instead of at Spa. Bloody hell!! It was fabulous, and funny that the young rookie was a thorn in Alonso’s side ((who always seems to look and act like he always has a thorn in his side, and another lodged in his anus)).
Ahead of them, as the laps wound down, Rosberg was gaining on Ricciado….2 seconds each and every lap. It appeared like it would come down to the wire and Rosberg might top the podium despite his earlier argy-bargy.
That was the excitement I missed of lap 2. The race was supposed to play out as a 1-2 finish for Mercedes with someone joining Hamilton and Rosberg of the podium who would happy to just be there, all smiles and sweetness and light, unlike those other two. Anyway, on lap 2, Hamilton in the lead and Rosberg gets this petulant idea to pass him. So Rosberg tears on his front right wing and totally fucks up Hamilton’s rear tire and all the fragile high-technology ((but not as high technology as television)) in that general vicinity, or for you isolationist American NFL football louts, Rosberg raced around the end like Clay Matthews or Julius Peppers and blind-sided Hamilton and left his hat laying on the floor.
That little display of impatience could of have cost both drivers. Rosberg dropped to 16th and Hamilton to 19th. Rosberg’s team was able to make repairs and Rosberg went crawling and then running like mad back through the field. Hamilton’s car, despite repairs, was pretty much done and dusted and by lap 39, he retired to the garage to save the engine for another day.
Rosberg finished second, but was roundly and universally booed when he stepped on to the podium with the 2 happy youngsters Ricciardo and Bottas.
In the wake of the 2014 Belgian Grand Prix, there are going to be some new team orders thrown down by Mercedes on both Rosberg and Hamilton.
These will be team orders that they must obey and not under any circumstances choose to ignore, as they come from none other than Nikki Lauda himself.
Basically the orders are kiss and make up. For real. Or else.
You don’t fuck with Nikki Lauda. You listen to the man and do what he says.
I sure as hell would. And so would you.
As for what I say, you can always take it or leave it. But what I say now is worthy of doing and good value.
And what I say now is join me at The Grumpy Troll, or the Firehouse, for a celebratory beverage. And this time, you don’t even have to buy the first round. After all, a Belgian punk band is playing….