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!
No comments:
Post a Comment