The Monaco Grand Prix – billed as the most glamorous event on the calendar, full of beautiful people, big yachts and massed showing off. Yet this is half the story (the small half): no one ever mentions the incessant noise and lack of sleep due to Armco being erected all night long and music banging out from apartments all over town as the beautiful people party those nights away. There is the embarrassment of bringing your vessel to town but not being able to moor it near enough to actually see the track; and worse, knowing that you’ve got to go to Nice to shop at Lidl.
Sirotkin gave us hope by trying to do the job on a 3 wheeler before getting the message ‘Novichok gotov’ so had to ooze back to Zizzi to serve out his penalty. We hoped for the best but knew that it was going to be same old, same old – Tigger Riccardo bounced away at the beginning with the wind in his tail trying very hard to pretend that he had problems with his car to fool us into thinking that he might break down. But we knew it was hopeless – deja vue all over again.
To be fair, Max V ‘scythed his way through’ (© Muddley Talker) from the rear giving hope that he might have his usual crash along the way and – and – just when we had given up hope of any real action LeClerc forgot he shouldn’t run into the back of people and did. Even then, no appearance of the safety car to mix up the order a little.
Who noticed a change in the podium arrangements this year? We are used to getting a glimpse of the Monegasque Prince Albert in the gloom of a bunker but this year He and his entourage bravely risked a spraying – and got one – on a proper podium. But was it better?
Usual excuses from the teams, the commentators, the drivers and ‘celebrities’ (who?)
The highlight was of course the Shoey; we hoped it might happen and he didn’t let us down. It made the endurance of 2 hours’ dull racing worth it.
Thanks to Wheels on Fire!