The Phantom
29th September 2009, 16:11
Melvis broadens his horizons and slaps up a race report on the Imola WSB round... enjoy!
If you love passion you gotta love the Italians. Arguably one of the most passionate people on the planet. And when you put 'em on two wheels and set 'em racing in Italy you've got the ingredients for a all sorts of goodness...
Timeline Imola. Spies arrives with a tentative grasp on the Championship's nethers (18 skinny points) to a track he's tested on looking supremely confident, but gets pipped in the dying minutes of Superpole to line up 2nd. His closest rival Haga shows up with his Samurai blood on the boil after being shafted by a pesky Irishman in the last race, and seeing his hard-fought comeback melt away like a forgotten piece of sushi in the dipping bowl, Haga-san gets all hai karate and grabs 4th on the grid. His teammate, the most aromatic Italian in the paddock - Febreezio - arives to race on a track within a tire toss of his home, bouyed by a fresh contract continuing his affair with Ducati, with which he's getting along famously and shows everyone that he's not just eye candy - he nails pole convincingly. Factor in another rabid Italian and former World Champion we shall call Max Baggage who's taking the lovely Aprillia RSV4 up to where it belongs, however it wasn't the first row - he grabbed 6th. Add in the surprise presence of the fuzziest Italian alive - Limoncelli - taking a well-earned rest between rounds of his last year in the 250 class before going to play with the big kids in the big playground on big bikes - railing on the second factory Aprillia like he stole it to grab 8th. And might as well throw in the aforementioned Irishman we call Johnny Raygun - a disciple of the lovely British style of racing called "bin it or win it" who is fast enough to grab a P3 front line start at the Italian Opera between Nori-san and Benjamino...
After the issues of a snot-slippery track on Friday (passionate Italian cleaning crew removed all the nice sticky rubber) were resolved, racers were able to get on with racing. Ah but before we do, here we might as well factor in the presence of Bayliss, who showed up with a wee bit of egg and Veg on his face asking Tardozzi to borrow Nori's bike to race on coz he was, well, y'know, bored... Anyone who thought for an Aussie minute that he'd be thrilled to race cages and that was the last we'd see of him on fast scooters, go eat three helpings of double-thick vegemite on day-old toast. Now.
Race 1 - sunny, slightly cool. Everyone accounted for - go. At turn 1 everyone was gobsmacked by the suden appearance of Max the B in the lead. Conversely, Spies has obviously been studying Rossi 'coz he farked up his start big time and wound up with a truckload of fast fackers ahead of him. Molto bene! A race, sez I as I settle back to absorb the excitement that only an epic three-rider battle can produce (well, scantily clad Italian women are also nice too, but I digress...)
Surely there was a jump start. Or there is a magnetic anomaly on the poles. Or maybe it's just an Italian racing in Italy, at Imola because Maximus was hot from the go and held off spirited attacks form Sushinori and Febreezio. The petulant Roman was like an impeccably turned-out Italian suit - smooth, precise, stylish. If this cat only raced like this all the time he'd be challenging for top-cat spot, said I to my cat... His riding was impressive - braking only after he'd gone well past the "I See God" markers, using the hefty thrust that only a V4 can churn out to great use, and in general was flawless - until Haga finally got past him. Then Febreezio tried stink up Max's perect day slotting the Ducati in front of the 'priller as the rabid fans nearly expired from the excitement, but Maxipants brought his big bocce balls along for the ride and flung his bike ahead of the Duc on the final corner to grab a famous and well-deserved 2nd, just 2.02 behind Haga...
Meanwhile - behind this trio the rest of the field got all tied up in knots. Spies was tentative and did not look at all like he was riding his #1 bike - later he'd go on to say that it felt like a 600. Basically he was not quite rubbish but was clearly outclassed and unable to run with the top three. Had he gotten a better start I still think it would have been Haga's or Biaggi's to lose - they were that good and that fast...
To add to the midpack fun and flavor - Limoncelli was riding the other Aprillia like Susy Cream Cheese rides the bucking bronco in her daisy dukes at the local C&W watering hole - every time the camera showed him he was on the ragged edge between keeping the rubber side down and the alternative. Eventually, after blowing his start in a big way and managing to pass a hatful of series regulars, he shook his 'fro up to 5th before he tossed it in the same corner that claimed all sorts of scalps that day...
What about Johhny Raygun? I can tell you this - if I were on the same track as him (theoretically speaking, of course) I'd be nervous as all get out - he nearly took Haga out in the first third of race 1 and did his best to immolate Shakey Byrne in race 2. Leon Haslam, another rowdy ruffian was also not impressed either. Of course, he's never done anything like take out his teammate or anything like that...
And so at the flag 4th wasn't a total disaster for Spies - just a minor one - like getting a giant zit on the middle of your forehead just before your big date with the girl of your dreams. His lead got whittled down to 6 points, but hey - we still have 5 races left...
Race 2 - warmer track, faster conditions. Go. This time Haga hoarded the holeshot with Febreezio and Maxipad all over his bike. But the smelly one stole away at half distance with the lead and it was then that all the closeted conspiracy theorists around the globe surely began to mouth "team tactics" as a mantra, thinking that this would be like silly car racing and Febreezio suddenly would develop "engine issues" or just crash for the hell of it at a predetermined place. Ha! Not in motorcycle racing, baby. Michele was powered by sublime forces because he didn't wait for the fat lady to sing. He simply ran away with his second career win despite heavy arm pump - so whether he was crying tears of joy or intense pain in the winner's circle is anyon'es guess...
Meanwhile, back in another time zone... So fast were the front three that there was lots of air between them and the next three. And then the next three... Spies it appears was cursed by the devil that lives in electronics that zapped 400cc's off the top of his bike - after having identified this as a problem in race one yours truly is as surprised as the next er that they didn't fix it for race 2. Or maybe he was "rusty" having had three weeks off, but I doubt that... His day would go from bad to nearly horrible when after finally clawing his way up to 5th by following the lanky Limoncelli, the fuzzy dude redefined the term "hairball pass" at the cynical little chicane that stole much of Imola's character and ran Max so wide that the Roman had nowhere to go but into Spies, who had nowhere to go but off into the kitty litter - miraculously keeping it up but got burned by Byrne again. The dying laps of the race saw 2 Ducatis go on to finish 1st and 2nd, the two Aprillias in 3 and 4th and the wimpy Yammie in 5th after having caught Shakey and passing him smartly to grab an extra point.
In the end it was all about Italy and things Italian to whip the crowd up into a frothy crema. In the top 4 there were 4 Italian bikes and 3 Italian riders. Which was Molto Fantastico as far as they were concerned...
So, with 4 races to go - Hagas' lead is a massive 3 points. If I were Ben I'd be worried because Nitro Nori is looking lethal - kinda like he did at the beginning of the season, and this year he seems to have overcome the issue of old - that of tossing it at the worst possible moment. But as a fan I'm not worried at all because it just coudn't get any better than this. Except if a carload of scantily clad Italian girls showed up at my house next weekend, just in time for the Magny Cours race. I wonder what my wife would say about that...
If you love passion you gotta love the Italians. Arguably one of the most passionate people on the planet. And when you put 'em on two wheels and set 'em racing in Italy you've got the ingredients for a all sorts of goodness...
Timeline Imola. Spies arrives with a tentative grasp on the Championship's nethers (18 skinny points) to a track he's tested on looking supremely confident, but gets pipped in the dying minutes of Superpole to line up 2nd. His closest rival Haga shows up with his Samurai blood on the boil after being shafted by a pesky Irishman in the last race, and seeing his hard-fought comeback melt away like a forgotten piece of sushi in the dipping bowl, Haga-san gets all hai karate and grabs 4th on the grid. His teammate, the most aromatic Italian in the paddock - Febreezio - arives to race on a track within a tire toss of his home, bouyed by a fresh contract continuing his affair with Ducati, with which he's getting along famously and shows everyone that he's not just eye candy - he nails pole convincingly. Factor in another rabid Italian and former World Champion we shall call Max Baggage who's taking the lovely Aprillia RSV4 up to where it belongs, however it wasn't the first row - he grabbed 6th. Add in the surprise presence of the fuzziest Italian alive - Limoncelli - taking a well-earned rest between rounds of his last year in the 250 class before going to play with the big kids in the big playground on big bikes - railing on the second factory Aprillia like he stole it to grab 8th. And might as well throw in the aforementioned Irishman we call Johnny Raygun - a disciple of the lovely British style of racing called "bin it or win it" who is fast enough to grab a P3 front line start at the Italian Opera between Nori-san and Benjamino...
After the issues of a snot-slippery track on Friday (passionate Italian cleaning crew removed all the nice sticky rubber) were resolved, racers were able to get on with racing. Ah but before we do, here we might as well factor in the presence of Bayliss, who showed up with a wee bit of egg and Veg on his face asking Tardozzi to borrow Nori's bike to race on coz he was, well, y'know, bored... Anyone who thought for an Aussie minute that he'd be thrilled to race cages and that was the last we'd see of him on fast scooters, go eat three helpings of double-thick vegemite on day-old toast. Now.
Race 1 - sunny, slightly cool. Everyone accounted for - go. At turn 1 everyone was gobsmacked by the suden appearance of Max the B in the lead. Conversely, Spies has obviously been studying Rossi 'coz he farked up his start big time and wound up with a truckload of fast fackers ahead of him. Molto bene! A race, sez I as I settle back to absorb the excitement that only an epic three-rider battle can produce (well, scantily clad Italian women are also nice too, but I digress...)
Surely there was a jump start. Or there is a magnetic anomaly on the poles. Or maybe it's just an Italian racing in Italy, at Imola because Maximus was hot from the go and held off spirited attacks form Sushinori and Febreezio. The petulant Roman was like an impeccably turned-out Italian suit - smooth, precise, stylish. If this cat only raced like this all the time he'd be challenging for top-cat spot, said I to my cat... His riding was impressive - braking only after he'd gone well past the "I See God" markers, using the hefty thrust that only a V4 can churn out to great use, and in general was flawless - until Haga finally got past him. Then Febreezio tried stink up Max's perect day slotting the Ducati in front of the 'priller as the rabid fans nearly expired from the excitement, but Maxipants brought his big bocce balls along for the ride and flung his bike ahead of the Duc on the final corner to grab a famous and well-deserved 2nd, just 2.02 behind Haga...
Meanwhile - behind this trio the rest of the field got all tied up in knots. Spies was tentative and did not look at all like he was riding his #1 bike - later he'd go on to say that it felt like a 600. Basically he was not quite rubbish but was clearly outclassed and unable to run with the top three. Had he gotten a better start I still think it would have been Haga's or Biaggi's to lose - they were that good and that fast...
To add to the midpack fun and flavor - Limoncelli was riding the other Aprillia like Susy Cream Cheese rides the bucking bronco in her daisy dukes at the local C&W watering hole - every time the camera showed him he was on the ragged edge between keeping the rubber side down and the alternative. Eventually, after blowing his start in a big way and managing to pass a hatful of series regulars, he shook his 'fro up to 5th before he tossed it in the same corner that claimed all sorts of scalps that day...
What about Johhny Raygun? I can tell you this - if I were on the same track as him (theoretically speaking, of course) I'd be nervous as all get out - he nearly took Haga out in the first third of race 1 and did his best to immolate Shakey Byrne in race 2. Leon Haslam, another rowdy ruffian was also not impressed either. Of course, he's never done anything like take out his teammate or anything like that...
And so at the flag 4th wasn't a total disaster for Spies - just a minor one - like getting a giant zit on the middle of your forehead just before your big date with the girl of your dreams. His lead got whittled down to 6 points, but hey - we still have 5 races left...
Race 2 - warmer track, faster conditions. Go. This time Haga hoarded the holeshot with Febreezio and Maxipad all over his bike. But the smelly one stole away at half distance with the lead and it was then that all the closeted conspiracy theorists around the globe surely began to mouth "team tactics" as a mantra, thinking that this would be like silly car racing and Febreezio suddenly would develop "engine issues" or just crash for the hell of it at a predetermined place. Ha! Not in motorcycle racing, baby. Michele was powered by sublime forces because he didn't wait for the fat lady to sing. He simply ran away with his second career win despite heavy arm pump - so whether he was crying tears of joy or intense pain in the winner's circle is anyon'es guess...
Meanwhile, back in another time zone... So fast were the front three that there was lots of air between them and the next three. And then the next three... Spies it appears was cursed by the devil that lives in electronics that zapped 400cc's off the top of his bike - after having identified this as a problem in race one yours truly is as surprised as the next er that they didn't fix it for race 2. Or maybe he was "rusty" having had three weeks off, but I doubt that... His day would go from bad to nearly horrible when after finally clawing his way up to 5th by following the lanky Limoncelli, the fuzzy dude redefined the term "hairball pass" at the cynical little chicane that stole much of Imola's character and ran Max so wide that the Roman had nowhere to go but into Spies, who had nowhere to go but off into the kitty litter - miraculously keeping it up but got burned by Byrne again. The dying laps of the race saw 2 Ducatis go on to finish 1st and 2nd, the two Aprillias in 3 and 4th and the wimpy Yammie in 5th after having caught Shakey and passing him smartly to grab an extra point.
In the end it was all about Italy and things Italian to whip the crowd up into a frothy crema. In the top 4 there were 4 Italian bikes and 3 Italian riders. Which was Molto Fantastico as far as they were concerned...
So, with 4 races to go - Hagas' lead is a massive 3 points. If I were Ben I'd be worried because Nitro Nori is looking lethal - kinda like he did at the beginning of the season, and this year he seems to have overcome the issue of old - that of tossing it at the worst possible moment. But as a fan I'm not worried at all because it just coudn't get any better than this. Except if a carload of scantily clad Italian girls showed up at my house next weekend, just in time for the Magny Cours race. I wonder what my wife would say about that...