Checkpoint 10

Checkpoint 10: or how I got out of the fictional F1 media

2009-11-15T04:30:00.000-08:00

It was four-thirty on Sunday morning, somewhere on the outer edge of the Formula 1 universe. In the little suburb, twenty miles from the nearest city, the streets lie deserted beneath the lampposts. Only occasionally, there would be a vague roar of a high-flying jet or a distant hum of a street sweeper. Overlooking an empty lot, through the window of a studio apartment soon to be vacated, there I was in my plastic chair, typing away in the cool glow of my laptop computer. On the wall, a television tuned to a whisper tried to sell me a bottle of motor oil.

I was putting the finishing touches on my last blog post. Like a mechanic inspecting a Formula 1 car just before sending it off onto the track, I tinkered with every detail, polished every imperfection, and aligned every punctuation mark. Every word had to be perfect. Every word had to matter. I had been up all night.

Behind me, the television blared, "Welcome to the Acura Pre-Race Show on Speed. I'm Bob Varsha…" Yawn. I turned off the television and shut my eyes for a moment, before Varsha's voice started echoing in my head. His was a voice I first heard in 1996 during the CART broadcasts, and over the years, it had become the reassuring voice of an old friend whom I would visit during the ungodly hour of 4:30am. Has it really been thirteen years already? I opened my eyes to the present; the room was still blue in darkness. I went back to my typing.

Five years ago, I had arrived on the blogosphere with big dreams: I wanted to have a voice in the motorsport community; I wanted to challenge the mainstream dialogue; eventually, I wanted to publish a book based on my entries. Over the years, I built a modest readership, had some interesting discussions, and blogged to my heart's content. But then I started feeling worn out. Yes, I'd been awake too long.

Just then, I was startled by my ringing cell phone. It was my boss.

"Just wanted to give you a wake-up call. The race is coming on."

"I know. And I'm not going to watch."

"Why? Still in bed? Are you sick?"

"As a matter of fact, I am." I said, rather dramatically. "I'm sick of the show…"

"Goodness, here we go again." I sensed him rolling his eyes. But I pressed on.

"I can tell you exactly what will happen over the next two hours. You'll see a Formula 1 logo. Formation lap. A bunch of cars with nearly-identical engines, chassis and tires on the grid. Lights go on and off. Somebody loses a wing near the back. Speculation about who's on how many stops. They stop. There’s a shot of the pit exit to show one driver getting ahead of another. They stop again. They are forced to change to another tire compound. Pit exit shot again. Somebody wins. We listen to their radio. Podium ceremony, flags raised, national anthems played, trophies handed out in the same order as ever, champagne spraying, press conference. It’s the same damn show."

"Don’t be so cynical. You won't get anywhere in life with that attitude…"

"That's precisely why I'm going to quit. I'm going to be a fan of something else that doesn't piss me off every two weeks and the period in-between. This time, I mean it."

There was a pause. And then, he said, "You won’t last. You'll miss it all: the speed, the danger, the cars, the drivers…"

"The speed, restricted to 18,000 rpm, the danger of sliding into an asphalt run-off, the cars that are less advanced than the ones in the mid-1990s, the drivers who are corporate spokesmen, forbidden from racing in any other series…"

"You're going to have opinions. Something's going to piss you off."

"I'll post my futile comments on a forum or another blog."

"So, you've thought this through?"

"Indeed."

"So you say. Let me know when you're out of your mood. I have a race to watch." Click.

* * *

I pushed the button to publish my post. No fanfare, no celebrations, no speeches. It will be read by about eighty people and then thrown back into the swift current of information.

Now, it is time to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

What am I going to do when I wake up? There’s a much neglected guitar in the corner of the room. Or I could head down to the bookstore and spend a lazy afternoon at the café. And then go for a long walk. Ah, welcome the possibilities!

Checkpoint 9: The Great Automobile Race

2009-11-14T19:00:00.000-08:00

The following story first appeared on this blog in September 2006. It is republished here with a few modifications.

The year was 2014. It was a quiet year for open-wheel racing. The IndyCar Series had folded at the end of 2013 after an unprecedented eleventh consecutive season of racing the same Dallara cars. The major open-wheel teams either went to NASCAR or sports cars. Many of the smaller teams simply went out of business.

In February 2014, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway sensationally announced that it would change its formula to accommodate Formula BMW and Formula Atlantic race cars in addition to old Indy cars. For the first time in nearly two decades, the Indy 500 entry list swelled to fifty unique car-and-driver combinations. But the race featured few recognizable names, and the television ratings hit a new low. Most viewers tuned in to watch the Coca-Cola 600, which ran in the afternoon for the first time, and now featured a half-time show.

In response to the pitiful state of open-wheel racing in the United States, a group of businessmen and racing enthusiasts pooled their resources together to form the Xanadu Speedway Company. The company's mission was simple: "to stage the world's most challenging and prestigious automobile race for the world's best drivers."

Xanadu took out a full-page advertisement in the New York Times, asking the general public to submit design ideas for "a next generation racing circuit to showcase 21st century automotive possibilities." Over the next month, Xanadu received a variety of submissions, from conservative designs, such as a two-mile oval, to outlandish ones that featured tunnels, loops and extreme elevation changes. In June 2014, Xanadu hired a committee of architects, artists, journalists and engineers to sort through the designs and come up with a preliminary circuit. The only requirement: it had to be no less than 10 miles long, and fit inside a recently-acquired plot of land just outside of Los Angeles.

In July, a layout was finished and presented to the press. It was quite a radical design that incorporated both paved and unpaved sections, a high speed oval, a hilly section, an underground section, and an extensive tour through a large building. Perhaps the most radical idea was that it was really two separate circuits connected by a two-mile stretch of pure, unpaved desert.

At the press conference, Xanadu also announced that a 500-mile race would be held on November 26, 2016, when most drivers would be available. The race would be sanctioned by the SCCA and open to a new category of race cars: Group D. Group D was essentially the return of formula-libre, with no limit on engine size and with only basic dimensional limits such as the height and length of the car. Indy cars, Formula 1 and Le Mans prototypes were immediately legal, if not optimized, for Group D racing. Because the track featured such extreme changes in surface and layout, it was not obvious which kind of car would be best-suited for the race. Fortunately, teams would have two years to develop their cars.

In August 2014, Lola Cars became the first constructor to enter the event with a modified version of their B12/40 sports car. A month later, Volkswagen confirmed that they would enter a derivative of their Formula 1 car. Most constructors were reluctant to produce a completely new car for the race, since the Group D category was created specially for Xanadu.

Construction of the circuit began in November 2014. The circuit itself was simple enough to carve into the desert, but the huge structures created some delays.

In January 2015, Red Bull was announced as the title sponsor of the race. The deal was worth a rumored $80 million, plus partial ownership of Xanadu. "Red Bull has been a long-time supporter of the sport and we feel that Xanadu is the ultimate expression of automobile racing, and thus a natural fit for the brand," according to the press release. The prize fund was set at $20 million for the winner, $10 million to the second place finisher, and $5 million to third place.

The sponsorship deal and prize money was crucial in attracting more competitors. Over the next two months, twenty competitors, mostly privateer efforts using old Indy cars and sports cars, entered the race. Robby Gordon entered a pair of Ford GTs for Tomas Scheckter and Buddy Rice. Gordon said that "no Indy car will possibly make it through the desert section" and that he plans to win through attrition.

In March, Jacques Villeneuve announced that he would be coming out of retirement to race in the Red Bull 500. Villeneuve called the race "the first real automobile race since the German Grand Prix at the old Nurburgring." Villeneuve said he had not decided which team to drive for, but he was open to the possibility of acquiring an old Champ car. "In my opinion, the Champ car will have the best chance on this circuit," said the two-time world champion.

In September, Xanadu announced that ESPN would provide live coverage of the race. A few weeks later, race teams and members of the racing industry were invited to see the track under construction. Nearly the whole track was completed; only the buildings, including the indoor section of the track, and the underground complex remained in construction.

That winter, twenty more competitors entered the race. The most notable was Penske Racing, which entered a Porsche sports car, two old Indy cars, and a Penske Champ car. The cars would be driven by Robert Kubica, Graham Rahal, Sam Hornish, Jr., and Buddy Lazier. Team owner Rick Mears said, "We are splitting our strategy for this race. Our simulators have shown that all of our cars have a shot at winning."

Three months before the race, Xanadu organized an open test for all confirmed participants. 36 teams showed up. Only the desert section and the north side of the circuit were used; the tunnel on the south side was still under construction. Nevertheless, it was clear that the open-wheel cars had an advantage in the twistier parts of the circuit. The fastest lap was turned by Robert Kubica in his Dallara-Ford. Kubica said, "This is a very weird circuit but they did a good job especially with the safety aspects."

It was discovered that the cars would go airborne in the downhill esses right before the desert section. Some Indy car teams also found that their cars did not have sufficient turning radius through the indoor section. Villeneuve, who found a ride with Eurointernational, got stuck trying to clear the hairpin. He said, "It's tigher and narrower than Monaco inside the building." Several drivers jokingly referred to the indoor section as the "IKEA showroom."

After the test, a number of sports car entrants switched over to Indy cars. However, despite languishing near the bottom of the timesheets, Robby Gordon stuck with his GTs, saying that durability, not speed, will win the race.

Just two months before the race, Team McLaren revealed that they had been developing a purpose-built car for the past year, and had already tested a prototype. World champion Lewis Hamilton and McLaren tester Giedo Van Der Garde were confirmed to drive in the 500. Team principal Martin Whitmarsh said, "With the MP4/30C, which has shown extremely quick and versatile during testing, we fully expect to win the 500." Several privateer squads immediately protested McLaren's entry, calling it unfair competition. But most competitors welcomed the entry, saying that it legitimized the event. Xanadu issued a statement saying, "Any competitor who can pass the technical inspection, regardless of political connections or economic influence, will be allowed to race." Indeed, on the same day, Flavio Briatore (who was still banned from FIA-sanctioned competitions) announced that he would enter two upgraded GP2 cars for Lucas Di Grassi and Heikki Kovalainen.

After these high-profile announcements, Xanadu launched an aggressive publicity campaign. In a television commercial aired during the NASCAR season finale, the Red Bull 500 was touted as the "next Indy." Ticket sales were better than normal for a first-year event. It didn't hurt that the race was scheduled for Thanksgiving weekend.

During opening practice, Hamilton lapped the circuit in a little over seven minutes, nearly five seconds quicker than Kubica.

Hamilton said, "The circuit is very interesting, but very long! I spent most of the session just learning the lines."

The fastest sports car, driven by James Hinchcliffe, was eight seconds off Hamilton's pace. Hinchcliffe said, "We are much closer to the pace than we expected. I think we have a legitimate chance to win the race as long as we stay in one piece."

Several drivers suffered mechanical failures during the session. Villeneuve's Panoz-Ford experienced a gearbox failure which stranded him on the "far" side of the circuit. A number of engines also blew up on the 2-mile desert straightaway, where speeds reportedly reached 250 mph. Van Der Garde escaped a high speed spin on the desert, largely thanks to the complete lack of guardrails in that section.

Penske produced a shock during the final hour of opening practice, when it was revealed that one of their Porsche sports cars was to be used as a mobile refueling car. Fuel would be delivered on the desert straightaway at speeds of over 200 mph using a device inspired by aerial refueling systems. In theory, this would save the team several minutes over the 500 mile race. Not surprisingly, several competitors protested this innovation, but their complaints were dismissed with a reminder that race control will allow anything to compete, as long as it qualifies and passes tech inspection.

The second practice session was marred by a serious accident in the hilly section of the course. At 2:30, John Belmont's Dallara-Ford went off the road and rolled down a ravine. The emergency helicopter was on the scene within 20 seconds to assist the trapped driver. Belmont suffered a concussion and a broken arm, but escaped serious head injuries thanks to the closed-cockpit. (Closed-cockpits had been a standard feature of Indy and F1 cars since Brian Kochanek's accident in 2010).

Before the session was stopped for Belmont's accident, Hamilton had shaved nearly four seconds from his morning time. Van Der Garde was two seconds behind Hamilton. From there, it was Kubica, Rahal and Pagenaud in the Volkswagen special.

Perhaps inspired by Penske’s creativity, several teams were spotted allegedly practicing road-blocking tactics involving multiple team cars. The racing media noted a conspicuous lack of response from race control over these tactics.

Qualifying featured 51 cars going for 39 grid positions. McLaren dominated the two-hour-long session, with Hamilton setting the fastest lap of the weekend at 6min 32sec, outpacing teammate Van Der Garde by two seconds. Behind them were the Indy cars of Marco Andretti, Kubica and Rahal, followed by the Champ car of Juan Pablo Montoya and two sports cars driven by Hinchcliffe and Danica Patrick. The Briatore GP2 cars qualified 9th and 10th, and the rest of the grid featured a mix of old Indy cars and sports cars driven by many rising stars and old veterans. Several unknown drivers also made the cut, including a masked driver James Hunt in an Audi R10 TDI and Keith Collantine in a Williams FW14B.

Raceday attendance was estimated at 120,000, by far the biggest crowd at an open-wheel event in the last three years.

At the lights, the field made a clean start towards the thirty-degree banked Turn 1. By the time they reached the arena, it was Hamilton leading from Van Der Garde, Rahal, Pagenaud, and Andretti, with Kubica making a slow start and sliding back to sixth place. James Hunt had an impressive start, moving his Audi into seventh place from 13th on the grid.

On the first trip through the desert, gentleman-racer Alan Reynolds made up five positions with his low-downforce "Reynolds' Special" Lola, before tangling with Stefano Coletti under braking. Both men collided with the wall, bringing out the local caution flags.

Further up the field, Van Der Garde made a mistake at the Spotter's Hill and allowed Rahal and Pagenaud to overtake.

The running order at the end of Lap 1: Hamilton, Rahal, Pagenaud, Van Der Garde, and Andretti.

Pitting was not required, so many of the cars had extra-large fuel tanks. This was especially true of the sportscars---the sportscar teams hoped to make as many as three fewer pit stops than the open-wheel cars. Penske, with their on-track refueling procedure, would attempt to go the distance with only two tire stops.

On Lap 3, Hamilton's Mercedes-Benz engine expired on the desert straight. A visibly frustrated Hamilton threw his helmet onto his smoking car before walking back to the pits. Hamilton told the press, "We had the best car out there. This is not a good feeling."

Rahal found himself in the lead with his modified Penske Champ Car, with Van Der Garde catching up rapidly.

Deeper in the field, Villeneuve overtook Patrick for 9th place with a spectacular move in the downhill esses.

On Lap 6, Van Der Garde finally found a way past Rahal, and began pulling away. But onboard cameras showed severe tire wear on the McLaren. Van Der Garde pitted for new tires at the end of Lap 7.

On Lap 8, Kubica's right-front tire exploded in the hills, raising safety concerns among the Indy car teams. Rahal, Pagenaud and Andretti pitted for new tires. Meanwhile, the Lola sports car of Hinchcliffe inherited second place, behind Van Der Garde.

On the next lap, Villeneuve pushed too hard coming out of the tunnel and crashed at the beginning of the oval. Villeneuve emerged unhurt and said, "It doesn't matter [about the retirement]. I am pleased to be a part of history. This track is absolutely stunning, and to be able to drive a Champ car on it is simply fantastic."

On Lap 9, the world witnessed the first successful refueling at 180 mph, when Hornish docked his Indy car with the Porsche refueling car driven by Lazier, and detached ten seconds later. On live television, a visibly proud Rick Mears revealed that the Penske team had secretly practiced the refueling procedure over a hundred times at a test track in Germany.

On Lap 11, Van Der Garde crashed in the indoor section while attempting to lap Tomas Scheckter. McLaren would not win the inaugural 500 despite having the fastest car. Hinchcliffe, who had yet to pit, found himself in the lead almost twenty seconds ahead of Rahal.

Hinchcliffe finally made a pit stop on Lap 13, and emerged ten seconds behind the new leader, Rahal.

At the halfway point, it was Rahal, Hinchcliffe, Pagenaud, Hunt, and Montoya, who was rapidly catching up to the lead pack.

Ten laps to go, Andretti's engine expired in the indoor section, throwing a thick smokescreen onto the track. Traffic slowed to a crawl until the smoke dissipated. This incident gave Rahal, Hinchcliffe and Pagenaud a huge lead over the rest of the field. Meanwhile, James Hunt retired with a mechanical problem and walked straight to a getaway car without ever taking off his helmet.

With eight laps remaining, Rahal lost control going down the esses, but managed to recover. Hinchcliffe, who had been driving a trouble-free race, closed up within two seconds of Rahal.

Five laps to go, on-board cameras revealed missing bodywork on Rahal's car as a result of his spin. Hinchcliffe managed to close the gap to one second, with Pagenaud right behind him.

It was obvious that Rahal was holding up both Hinchcliffe and Pagenaud, but Rahal was much faster on the desert straights.

Three laps to go, Pagenaud suffered an engine failure. He blamed his misfortune on following Hinchcliffe too closely and overheating his engine.

In the closing laps, it seemed like a battle between Rahal, Hinchcliffe and Montoya. Montoya tried a banzai move on Hinchcliffe in the hills, but failed. He saved his car from hitting the barriers and regained control. A desperate move, but there was, of course, a $5 million difference between 3rd place and 2nd place.

On the last lap, Hinchcliffe attempted to outbrake Rahal at the end of the desert straight, but did not get the job done. The loss of momentum allowed Montoya to sneak past and go for the lead.

On the last run through the desert, it was Rahal leading Montoya by less than two car lengths, with Hinchcliffe seemingly resigned to third place.

Coming out of the last corner, in front of a hundred thousand cheering fans, Montoya caught a draft from Rahal's car and pulled alongside...

I'm not going to give away the ending because I think we have earn it first.

Yes, we can make this happen for real. It doesn't have to involve petitioning Tony George and Brian Barnhart to do this and that. We don't have to get permission from Bernie Ecclestone. There is enough wealth in the world to save auto racing five times over.

What auto racing desperately needs is something that can stir our imagination. Remember when you were a child and you first picked up an illustrated book of race cars and you were dazzled by all the different types of cars: the ones with the big wings, small wings, the ones with sharp nose, flat nose, the ones with fancy grilles, the ones that look like rockets... ?

I had a book like that. It had a page that showed a Ferrari 312T with that fancy airbox, and next to it was a six-wheeled Tyrrell. As a seven-year-old, I thought that was really cool. I am sure that image had something to do with why I am a race fan today.

Spec racers on spec tracks betray the promise given to me by that book. Today's children should not have to watch twenty four identical Dallara-Hondas going around in circles. They wouldn't be terribly interested, anyway.

Today's racing is being run for all the wrong reasons, and its success is being measured in all the wrong ways. It should not be about bringing television audiences or making money or selling products. Motor racing should not try to become an entertainment product. We have ball games and action movies for that. Instead, motor racing should be bigger than life; it should inspire young engineers, be an outlet for technological creativity and innovation, and stir the imagination of audiences worldwide.

Ask yourself why you got into racing, and what particular scenes or moments excite you. Write it down on the Internet. Focus on a positive vision of racing; let's not waste time on cynicism or negative criticism of the establishment. If you're at a race, talk to the engineers and drivers. Ask them how they got into racing. Did they watch Speed Racer when they were little? Remind them that, once upon a time, drivers conquered the 14-mile Nurburgring at full speed. Ask them why they don't do that anymore.

If we come up with a coherent and persuasive vision of racing, I have faith that the money and resources will naturally follow. It only takes a few wealthy individuals and organizations bitten by the racing bug. We need to make this bug bite again.

Checkpoint 8: Books

2009-11-13T20:00:00.000-08:00

I'm an avid collector of auto racing books. Over the last decade, I have amassed a collection of two shelves full of Autocourse annuals, Indianapolis 500 yearbooks, and many other books on Formula 1, Indy cars, and sports cars. Most of my books came from used and specialty booksellers all over California, but lately I've been cheating a bit and buying from eBay. Maybe someday I will have enough books to call it a library. The following is a snapshot of what I have at the moment:

Here are several books about Formula 1. I'm a proud owner of The World Atlas of Motor Racing, a book written in the 1980s by a young Joe Saward (now a blogger and writer for Grandprix.com).

I will not rest until I have completed my collection of Carl Hungness Indianapolis 500 yearbooks and The Men & Machines of IndyCar. Thank goodness for the Internet!

No collection would be complete without the Autocourse annuals. Some years, such as 1994, are extremely hard to find. Maybe one day I'll be rich and buy the 50+ years I'm missing.

During the 1990s, Autocourse produced the official CART yearbook. The one at the bottom (1994) is the first one I ever bought, from a used bookseller in Los Angeles.

Checkpoint 7: Innovation

2009-11-12T19:00:00.000-08:00

A car with three wheels

A car with three hundred small wheels

A car with no wheels

A car powered by batteries

A car powered by the sun

A car that makes the road ahead of it sticky

A car with a radar that signals when a pass is complete

A car that can go sideways and never spin out

A car with no gearbox

A car that doesn't need to pit, ever

A car that harnesses the power of 200 mph winds

A car with a shield that deflects flying debris

A car that is quick on asphalt, concrete, dirt, gravel, ice, etc.

A car with a changing livery

A car made of ________________

A car that goes 300 mph

Checkpoint 6: Simulations

2009-11-11T00:00:00.000-08:00

In 1995, I got Papyrus IndyCar Racing for my birthday. It barely ran on my 486 and I had no sound card, but it ran okay if I turned off all the graphics options. I learned all the default circuits (including Long Beach, Milwaukee, Portland, Michigan) using the keyboard! I desperately wanted the expansion pack (which includedMid-Ohio, Cleveland, Road America and others), but that was incredibly difficult to find in stores. Eventually, my dad helped me draft a purchase order to a distributor who was still selling it (this was before eBay and Amazon!).

I was a very poor racer, and the frame rate issue didn't help. Instead, I spent hours trying to figure out which chassis/engine combination was the best. I once held a test session at Milwaukee where I did three-lap runs with all 30 possible cars and recorded my best laps onto a chart. For the record, the best combination was the '93 Lola/Ford.

My friend at school also got IndyCar Racing, and we held an ongoing lap record competition. I was always slower, being handicapped by my keyboard controls, slow computer and lack of skill. Nonetheless, it was this competition that led me to create my first web page, which was devoted to tracking me and my friend's best laps.

I eventually got IndyCar Racing II, but I felt it lacked the charm of the first version. The cars also had less grip than the first version, and this tended to accentuate my ineptness at driving. Even so, I managed to be reasonably active in the fledgling modding community on AOL, and founded an offline racing league, which I managed throughout high school.

In the meantime, I had gotten into a new game called Microsoft CART Precision Racing. I'm embarrassed to even mention that, because it was a really terrible game. The only reason why I liked the game was because it had an easy-to-use track editor, probably the only game at the time that had something comparable, fully functional and not requiring any other 3-D design program. I created many tracks, including Monza, the new Long Beach layout, Imola and Houston. I was even hired to build a customized circuit for a corporate sponsor. I developed quite a following and eventually I had one of the only active CART Precision Racing web sites around. The web site was called "The Checkbox," named after the 3-D objects you needed to lay down to indicate the start/finish line and the pit lane entry/exit.

When I went to university, my online persona went into hiding for a while. I finally had a nice computer and spent my time with several different racing games, including Grand Prix 2, Grand Prix 3, Official Formula 1 Racing, and Sports Car GT. I was most impressed with SCGT; I still rate it as one of the best racing games ever made, even better than rFactor. It had a career mode that really made you keep playing. You always had a chance to win----if you couldn't do it on skill alone, you could always work hard and upgrade your car. I spent many happy hours on that game until a Windows Service Pack rendered it incompatible with my system.

During my third year at university, one of my Internet friends got me interested in a game called GeneRally. The game was highly moddable, and I immediately set about making a name for myself within the modding community. Under the pseudonym Kid A, I made a dozen or so tracks, each one with a different character. I was awarded the "GeneRally TrackMaster" badge and nominated for "Track of the Month" a couple times. I started a new web site called "Checkpoint 10," which housed my creations. That site, of course, morphed into this blog.

After I graduated from university, I found a job and bought a gaming computer. I was finally able to run games with maximum graphics. Soon, I realized that I missed open-wheel racing; I had spent a few years dabbling in sports cars and had almost forgotten what it was like to go fast. The few times I tried the Formula 1-style cars in such games as TOCA Race Driver 2, I simply couldn't handle the speed. So I embarked on a program to get myself back in shape. First, I got Live For Speed, which had some pretty good physics, a couple of convincing open-wheel cars, and a decent multiplaying option. Then, I got bored with the fictitious circuits and bought RACE 07. I got some useful mileage out of its Formula BMW and F3000 cars, especially at Macau, a circuit I had long been fascinated with, but I didn't like its interface.

Finally, I discovered rFactor and challenged myself to handle a Formula 1 car somewhere close to racing speed. I used this blog to hold myself accountable. I believe my campaign was a success, and now I have the circuit knowledge and more confidence to bring to many generations of racing sims to come.

A tour of Laguna Seca with my favorite CART driver.

Checkpoint 5: The Speed

2009-11-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

When I was a teenager, I went several times to SpeedZone, a go-kart/amusement park in Los Angeles. I became somewhat addicted to the "Slick Trax" where you had very little grip and could drift through corners. My friend and I would compete for best times, and inevitably I would be the slower one. But this was a relatively expensive activity ($7 for 5 minutes) and I soon gave it up when I decided that my allowance was better spent on video games.

Years later, after I had found gainful employment, my company decided to have an event at a local indoor karting facility. This was not merely a family-fun center; these karts were pretty close to the real thing. They took safety very seriously, too----you had to go through a drivers' meeting and wear a helmet.

The event consisted of two practice sessions, two heat races, and a final. During the first practice session, I was shocked at how fast the kart would go if I pushed the pedal all the way. You really had to work hard to get the kart around the corners, especially the quick ones. Most of my colleagues were lifting through the quick corners, but I was going flat out and almost sliding. To my delight, the reflexes I had acquired from years of playing racing games actually paid off----I eventually posted the third fastest lap in practice out of about fifty people there. During my first heat race, I had bad luck and finished mid-pack after several mistakes, but set the fastest lap. And then for my second race, I started on the front row and proceeded to pull out a big lead on the first lap. And then, somebody behind me spun and brought out the yellow lights. Unfortunately, I was so focused on setting a hot lap that I didn't see the lights around the track, and I continued speeding until I realized that I was being summoned to the pits for a penalty and scolding. After that, my race was pretty hopeless.

Somehow, I had managed to qualify for the final race anyway, on the strength of my hot lap from the first race. I started mid-pack, but by then, I was worn out from the earlier sessions and didn't want to drive anymore. On the opening lap, I felt lacking in confidence, and let some of the other karts through. Gradually, the steering felt heavier and heavier, until I felt like I could hardly get the kart around the corners anymore. After a few more agonizing laps, I pulled into the pits and retired. My arms were dead. Clearly, there was a lack of fitness on my part, but it made me appreciate just how difficult it is to drive a race car at the limit, and how you really need to be an athlete just to keep the car on the road.

Checkpoint 4: The Art

2009-11-09T00:00:00.000-08:00

Checkpoint 3: The Event

2009-11-08T09:00:00.000-08:00

I grew up in the car crazy Southern California during the 1990s. The CART series came to town every year at Long Beach, and for several years they raced at Fontana, too. I was fortunate enough to attend the races there before the decline of the series.

In 1998, I attended my first CART event at the California Speedway. Actually, I only went on Saturday, to watch Bobby Rahal qualify for the last time. He was quick, too----5th fastest in a competitive field of 25. During the evening, there was an autograph session out behind the grandstands. I remember lining up for almost a half hour to get Rahal's autograph; I had planned to ask him when he was going to come out of retirement and race again, but when I got to the front of the line, I was so awestruck meeting my childhood hero that I only mustered up the ability to say thank-you.

I also attended the 1999 and 2001 races at Long Beach. Both times, my friend and I had a paddock pass which gave us access to many of the CART drivers and team members. To amuse ourselves between practice sessions, we would try to get autographs from as many drivers as possible. Naturally, some of them were more accessible than others. I found it difficult to get a hold of the more popular drivers such as Al Unser, Jr. and Michael Andretti. But there were also drivers like ex-F3000 ace Nicolas Minassian, who just hung out on the side of his garage and seemed happy to sign my program, and Jimmy Vasser, who told me to "stay cool" on his autograph card.

Out at the track, it's hard to describe what it's like to see the actual race cars just several yards from you. The first thing you notice is the noise, especially the loud crunch associated with a gear shift. And then there is the smell of burning rubber and fuel. You just can't get any of that from a television.

In 1999, I attended the Los Angeles Grand Prix at Exposition Park. It was a ridiculously small street circuit featuring a unique "switchback" section of three parallel straights separated by two 180-degree hairpins. The headlining event was the NASCAR West series, but the main attraction for me was the American IndyCar Series, which raced a bunch of old Indy cars from the 1980s and early-1990s. As I recall, it was quite entertaining even though the drivers were only semi-professional (I do remember a fierce battle between Bill Tempero and Ken Petrie).

The same year, Los Angeles got its first short oval in many years, with the opening of the Irwindale Speedway. I attended a night race at the half-mile oval, which hosted mainly regional stock car and midget competitions. It's as far away from Formula 1 as you can get, but you have to go to these events like you would go to the cinemas to watch a mindless action flick. With the right mindset, it's actually quite entertaining. You can see the whole track from pretty much anywhere in the one grandstand. Absent any prior knowledge of the competitors, you start cheering for your favorite paint scheme. There are cars everywhere, there are overtaking maneuvers, there are the inevitable crashes, and everybody has fun.

Then I went to college and became disenchanted with racing. I tried to rekindle my interest in live racing by attending (and, in fact, volunteering at) the 2006 Champ Car race at San Jose. But what I saw was a pathetic attempt to stay relevant with 5-year-old race cars in front of people who didn't care and hardly knew their racing. The weekend was capped off by the unveiling of the Panoz DP01, which I regarded as the end of technological progress in American open-wheel racing.

Every day, I walk past the Almaden Boulevard hairpin on my way to work. The yellow curbing is still there, as well as tire marks. I wish I could tell you that it conjures up memories of great cars and drivers, great overtaking moves and dramatic accidents. But it doesn't. It's a monument to an era of Champ Car that is best forgotten.

Checkpoint 2: Racing Heroes

2009-11-07T15:00:00.000-08:00

Indianapolis 500: The Simulation came with a manual that had pictures of Indy 500 winners, arranged in chronological order, and I remember noticing how the cars would look faster and faster throughout the decades (this made perfect sense, as it kept with the progress of technology). I also remember learning the names Wilbur Shaw and Johnny Rutherford, who seemed to keep popping up as multi-race winners. The last winner featured in the book was Emerson Fittipaldi, winner of the 1989 classic. His car was the sleekest of all, the pinnacle of racing technology. And being sponsored by Marlboro, it was painted in the livery of champions.

About a year or two later, I was spending Christmas Eve at my uncle's house. He had a stack of Road & Track magazine, and I happily thumbed through it, being very much into cars and stuff. I remember looking at the racing section, and kept seeing the name "Ayrton Senna" at the top of the results. Hmm. This Senna must be good, and, of course, he drives the Marlboro car. However, I was a little confused about why he didn't appear in my Indianapolis 500 manual.

Ayrton Senna's McLaren MP4/5.

* * *

Between 1992 and 1995, I watched the Indianapolis 500 every year, but it was halfway through 1995 when I became a diehard IndyCar fan. By then, I was 12 years old and was playing Papyrus IndyCar Racing on my 486 PC after school. I also had a schoolmate who happened to be a racing fan. His favorite driver was Robby Gordon; mine was Bobby Rahal.

Rahal, a three-time CART champion, was known for quietly winning races and championships through consistency rather than outright speed. He seemed quite intelligent as well----Rahal was a rare university graduate in the CART field, and he also started and raced in his own team with admirable success. For me, it was a massive disappointment that I never actually watched him winning a race----his last CART victory was in 1992 (before I started watching regularly), and he carried on for six more futile years before retiring.

One of the highlights of Rahal's 1996 season: a podium finish at Road America.

In 1996, the open-wheel split happened. I confess that in the first year, I was more excited about the IRL than CART. The main reason was that the IRL had a better variety of machines than CART; for example, you had the 1993 Lola-Menard cars battling against 1995 Reynard-Fords. On the other hand, CART started the 1996 season with a new set of regulations that virtually required all competitors to use brand new chassis. That was kind of boring to me, not to mention that Rahal never seemed to find the ultimate pace to win again in CART.

It was from the IRL that I picked my next favorite driver: Arie Luyendyk, a former winner in CART and the 1990 Indy 500 champion. In May 1996, he blew the whole field away with a 237 mph qualifying average, and he made it look so easy. A closer look at his history shows that Luyendyk tended to win for smaller teams, including Shierson, Granatelli and Treadway (he also finished 2nd at Michigan for Indy Regency). Luyendyk has won on road courses and ovals----a true all-rounder. How many titles would he have won, if only he had championship-worthy equipment!

* * *

Back then, I never watched Formula 1. It wasn't on any TV channels I had, and my only source of information about this series was a 1995 season-review edition of Autosport that I had borrowed from my cooler friend. I didn't feel particularly hooked to Formula 1. The cars were kind of weird looking, the names were totally unfamiliar (where was that Senna?) and the circuits were all in faraway locales and did not include the greatest one of all: Indianapolis.

One day in 1996, as I was browsing a motor sport database on AOL, I learned that Senna had been killed in an accident a couple years before. It was upsetting to me, and I felt like a part of my childhood had died.

The 1997 season was frustrating for me, probably because Rahal had an extremely poor year, finishing only 12th in the CART points. That fact, along with the shockingly ugly and slow IRL cars, turned me towards Formula 1.

I still didn't have premium cable, so my racing buddy and I went to a bar to watch the 1998 Australian Grand Prix. I was blown away by the ease with which the McLaren drivers pulled away from the pack. It was a display of perfection that was awesome in the proper sense of the word. As it turned out, the 1998 Grand Prix went down as a pivotal moment in the history of team orders, but I actually don't remember witnessing that fateful moment when David Coulthard allowed Mika Hakkinen to overtake. I guess I would have interpreted such a move as "teasing" the opposition. To me, it didn't make a difference which McLaren driver won; I walked out of the bar a fan of the silver team.

Mika Hakkinen overtakes Michael Schumacher at Spa 2000.

Over the next few years, I became a fan of Mika Hakkinen by default, although he never really inspired me like my old idol Bobby Rahal. Or maybe I was just getting older and less likely to get excited about these things. When Hakkinen retired in 2001, I didn't really have a favorite driver anymore. Instead, I became a fan of Ron Dennis; I admired the professionalism and polish he seemed to bring to the team. His methodical, perfectionist approach is something that I hope to emulate, if I am ever placed in charge of an organization.

In recent years, I have cheered on several drivers that I rate highly but who never seemed to have the right equipment. They include Takuma Sato, Jenson Button, and Jacques Villeneuve. Button, of course, won the 2009 championship, but I was one of those who always felt he had the ability to be champion. As for the stars of the future, I'm going to back Kamui Kobayashi as a dark horse contender for the Formula 1 championship somewhere down the road.

Checkpoint 1: Green Flag

2009-11-06T19:56:00.000-08:00

This is my first memory of auto racing... or, maybe not precisely the event depicted in the video, but something close to it.

From an early age, I always associated Marlboro with racing, even before cigarettes. And I have this vague memory of seeing a Marlboro-liveried, open-wheel formula car, racing around a parking lot on a television newscast. Somehow, I'm sure it wasn't Formula 1, and it must have been 1989 or 1990 (when I was 6 or 7). Obviously it made a lasting impression on me, although I can't quite place why.

Around the same time, I played with Micro Machines (which were these cool little toy cars). I organized cross-country races across my bed between a Jaguar E-Type convertible, an E-Type coupe, a funny car, and a Formula 1-style car with a trick nose that could pop out and strike an opponent. The races would always be won by one or the other Jaguars, because they were teammates who would work together to defend against that Formula 1 "villain." Oh, and the funny car never really had a chance----I didn't think it looked fast enough.

When I was 7, my parents got us our first computer, an IBM XT. It was one of those machines that took five minutes to boot up because it needed to slowly count from 0kb to 640kb (for some sort of memory check). It also came with a 4-color CGA graphics card, which we later upgraded to 16-color EGA. It had a lot of games on it from the previous user, including Police Quest and Monopoly. It also had Lotus 1-2-3, which I found very entertaining.

One day in 1991, I was in a now-defunct department store called Fedco, left alone for a moment to browse through the computer software aisle. I remember looking disinterestedly at such games as Leisure Suit Larry and SimCity before one of them caught my eye: Indianapolis 500: The Simulation. I remember this clearly: there was a dramatic photo of Rick Mears leading the way at Indy, and on the back cover there were stunning screenshots of computerized racing action. By then I already knew enough to read the system requirements, and was ecstatic to learn that Indianapolis 500 was compatible with my already-obsolete system. I persuaded my dad to buy it for me, and so he did.

The game probably ran at less than ten frames a second on my XT, but that didn't matter to me, because I wouldn’t have known better. And for a long time, I didn't really know what I was doing with the game. I would just hold the up arrow key down and let the car creep slowly against the wall, all the way around the track. It was the most reliable way to get around without hitting anybody else. I would do this for hours, and yet it was the most fun I'd ever had.

It turned out that Indianapolis 500: The Simulation was a milestone of the genre, and was probably the first one that had real 3D graphics and let you set up the car in a variety of realistic ways. I remember reading the manual, except without any comprehension, how to set up camber, stagger, shocks, and many other things that I still don’t really understand.

When I was nine years old, I was still playing the game, except with a little more maturity. One day, as I was testing my battered blue March, the light bulb finally came on, and I suddenly realized that the optimum line around the track was far away from the wall. I got faster and faster as my fingers became more coordinated, and as I came upon a white Indy car ahead on the back straightaway, I instinctively overtook it on the outside. When I saw the car in my mirrors, I knew I had hit a milestone. It was the first time in my life that I felt like I genuinely achieved something on my own.

A lap at Interlagos

2009-10-16T22:41:00.000-07:00

I never quite liked Interlagos, but having driven a whole season's worth of circuits, I must admit that the long-time venue of the Brazilian Grand Prix is now one of the better circuits on the calendar. It has a variety of corners and some interesting elevation changes. Too many slow corners for my taste... almost Tilke-like in that respect. My lap was a 1:12.287, less than a second away from the lap record.

I hate Turns 1 and 2, also known as the Senna S. It's similar to the Corkscrew at Laguna Seca, but somehow it doesn't feel natural. You'll carry that thought around Turn 3 until having to brake for Turn 4, after which you go downhill towards the middle of the circuit. First up are the Ferradura curves, which are quite fast and exciting when taken properly. Then you have to tip-toe through the next four corners before starting back uphill at Turn 12. Turn 13 is a slow, blind corner, which launches you into what I call the epic part of the circuit. It's hard to describe what happens at Turns 14 and 15. There's banking, elevation changes, and a stadium all around you: perhaps the finest last turn in Formula 1.

A perfect race at Homestead

2009-10-11T13:38:00.000-07:00

A miraculous thing has happened over the weekend: the IndyCar series has run an oval race without any safety car periods. It is what I would call a perfect race----a real, continuous 200 lap race, not a series of short sprints.

We have now learned that Dario Franchitti's car can complete 300 miles (pit stops included) 4.8 seconds sooner than the competitors. This is a fact that one can state with confidence and with no conditions; it is a statistic that is not distorted by caution flags that artificially erase gaps between cars.

The fact that the top 3 finishers were separated by only six seconds after 300 miles is quite remarkable. This is a statistic that has much more meaning than the 0.01-second winning margins that occur after late-race caution periods.

All forms of motor sport should strive to produce these kinds of untainted results, and the replacement of the safety car with a less disruptive alternative would be a step in that direction.

Seemed like a nice gesture to me

2009-09-27T23:26:00.000-07:00

When I first heard that Alonso had dedicated his Singapore podium to Flavio Briatore, my first thought was, it seems like a reasonable thing to say, a nice gesture to a friend, and a decent way to finish the Singapore scandal. I thought no more of it.

The media, on the other hand, interpreted it differently. The Sun calls it a 'controversial' remark, the Mirror claims that F1 bosses are "fuming", and Joe Saward of Grandprix.com seemed to be particularly up in arms over Alonso's words. Grandprix.com had this to say:

Alonso finished third and this gave him access to the world's TV audience and he made a most interesting choice by dedicating his result to Flavio Briatore, the man who has been flung out of F1 for having orchestrated the Singapore plot in 2008. By doing so, Fernando did several things. He virtually confirmed that he is not staying with the Renault team next year - and so will be off to Ferrari, as everyone has suspected for months on end. At the same time he sent out a very bad message by appearing to support Briatore. No good will come of that.

On Saward's personal blog, he explains that, "[c]learly the Spaniard feels more loyalty towards Briatore than he does for his current employer and, that being the case, it is fairly clear that he is not intending to stay at Enstone…"

I think Saward is reading too much into Alonso's remarks. Anyone who has suddenly lost the company of a long-time manager, supporter and friend should be expected to say similar things following a podium finish. I think Alonso's comments actually reveal him to be human. It is only the honorable thing to say in such a difficult circumstance.

As for sending a bad message, I feel quite the contrary. It is important to acknowledge the shock and pain that Flavio Briatore is undoubtedly feeling at the moment, having been banned from the sport based more on his refusal to cooperate with the FIA than on the facts of the case (from what I have read, it seems that Nelson Piquet Jr. came up with the plan himself and it was Pat Symonds who handled the details of it, all within earshot of Briatore). So, it's strange to me that Briatore is made out to be the supreme villain of all of this, despite the idea not even being his own. And how much did Briatore really understand about the plan, since he is famously oblivious to the intricacies of motor racing?

On his blog, Saward wrote a scathing obituary of Briatore's career: "I am not a Briatore fan. I never have been. I always felt that he was in the wrong business. Racing people like racing. Briatore just liked being on TV and making money. He was good at both."

He goes on to say, "Flavio’s boat has sailed and F1 is better off without him. He was, in the end, his own executioner and that was a suitable and rather satisfying end."

I normally find Saward's commentary to be quite observant and intelligent, and in fact heartily recommend both his blog and Grandprix.com. But this time, it seemed like Saward had an axe to grind, as well, and his comments should be taken with that in mind.

A lap at Suzuka

2009-09-27T22:08:00.000-07:00

If there is a reason why you should give racing games a shot, Suzuka would be it. This John Hugenholtz-designed circuit has it all: fast and slow corners, esses, blind turns, elevation changes, and even the unique crossover section. On paper, it looks twisty and slow, but let me tell you, Suzuka gives you one of the best sensations of speed of all the Formula 1 circuits, even though your car may not travel much faster than 190 mph at any point. And it's fun! I found it hard to stop playing, once I had a semi-decent lap to post. My lap time in the Honda F1 car was 1:35.786, which is actually several seconds off the pace, even though it definitely didn't feel slow.

Turn 1 is unbelievably fast and is taken flat out at top gear. It is not the most challenging corner but is definitely a thrill to drive through. Immediately after Turn 1, you would brake and downshift a couple gears to get through the tighter Turn 2. Now, the road goes uphill as you negotiate the esses, mostly around 4th gear. Much time can be lost here, so you want to set up your car with adequate downforce to handle the quick direction changes. Turn 7, or Dunlop, is a huge sweeper that also goes uphill----it looks like you can go flat out through there, but my car goes a little unstable in this section because of the bumps.

Now you approach the fast right-hand kink called Degner. I usually downshift once and brake gently for the kink, but if I'm feeling brave, I've been able to slide the car through there nearly flat out. Turn 9 is a bit sharper, with a little camber to help you along. Cross under the bridge and you'll be headed towards the hairpin, a straightforward corner. Then it's another flat-out section towards Spoon, a double-apex hairpin that is quite fast. After that you'll step on the gas and reach maximum speed on the back straightaway, and turn the wheel gently for 130R. Many people regard 130R as one of the best corners in Formula 1, but I disagree. It is fast, but it is not as exciting as Degner or Turn 1. Even an amateur like me almost never had an accident there. After 130R, there is some heavy braking as you negotiate the tight Casio chicane, a curiously anticlimactic ending to one of the last remaining great circuits on the Formula 1 calendar.

A lap at Singapore

2009-09-19T10:26:00.000-07:00

The Marina Bay Street Circuit will forever be linked with the "worst act of cheating in the history of sport," but it's actually not a bad racing circuit. The corners feel reasonably fast, there are some bumpy sections that can unsettle a car, and of course there is the novelty of racing under the lights.

The version I used for rFactor must be a little too wide or too short, because I managed a lap time of 1:38.710, which is almost 7 seconds quicker than the lap record.

You'll want plenty of downforce for this circuit. Away from the start/finish line, you'll downshift a couple gears for Turns 1 and 2 before braking heavily for Turn 3. I'm not sure if Hermann Tilke had anything to do with this particular corner, but it's definitely his style. So, now you accelerate onto Republic Boulevard, and when you see the DHL signs, it's time to think about turning right. I do a poor job on the video, but it should be taken quite fast. Now, it's a blast down Raffles Boulevard, the longest straightaway on the circuit, before braking for a couple 90-degree corners that are reminiscent of Adelaide. Then, you're on the far side of the track, St. Andrews Road, where you should look out for the RBS signs announcing Turn 10, which is more like a tiny chicane that you can straightline through. Turns 11 and 12 make up a long chicane, and then you'll go over the Anderson Bridge and then brake for a hairpin. After a short straightaway, you'll get to another 90 degree turn. And then you'll come to Turns 15 to 21, or two swimming pool-style complexes joined together. Finally, the lap ends with my favorite corner: Turns 22 and 23, an epic double-apex sweeper that leads onto the main straightaway.

Yet once more...

2009-09-16T18:30:00.000-07:00

On my coffee table there is a recent issue of Motor Sport magazine which features a cover picture of a smiling, optimistic Flavio Briatore. It is very sad to think that, just four months after this magazine was published, Briatore would be pushed out of Formula 1 in disgrace.

The cover of Motor Sport, May 2009

By itself, the Singapore crash scandal should be shocking, disgusting, utterly indefensible. But all I feel is numb. The numerous scandals that have rocked Formula 1 in recent years have made me desensitized to it all: the Michelin pull-out at the 2005 United States Grand Prix, the McLaren espionage scandal, the Renault espionage scandal, the Max Mosley sex scandal, the Lewis Hamilton penalty at Spa, the Lewis Hamilton lying scandal, the diffusers row, the FOTA-FIA war, Ecclestone praises Hitler, and now the allegations of race fixing at the 2008 Singapore Grand Prix.

I am so tired of scandals. I long for my simple childhood days when all I cared about was whether my favorite driver, Bobby Rahal, was going to win the race. Nowadays, every time I sit down to this blog, it is in response to something bad. Lately, I've thought often about stepping away from it all. A couple race weekends ago, I went on holiday without Internet or television, and found myself not missing Formula 1 that much...

Perhaps the media is also part of the problem. It is important to stress that Briatore and Pat Symonds have not actually confessed to ordering Nelson Piquet, Jr., to crash. I feel the media is irresponsible to report that their separation from Renault implies guilt. Briatore and Symonds should receive the benefit of the doubt until they are proven guilty or confess. It is, at least, a matter of respect for those men.

When someone commits a crime, it is easy to call the criminal "immoral" or "mad," and move on with our lives. I subscribe to the view that crimes are often committed out of desperation and perceived necessity, and that there are various sociological and economic factors to consider when trying to determine what could possibly drive a person to cross that line.

I think we should try to understand why Formula 1 has come to a point where the teams feel it is necessary to step outside of the rules. Is it because the deal with the commercial rights holder makes it so vital for a team to score points? Is it because there are so many jobs at stake? Is it because the technical regulations are so close that the teams have to be very creative in order to have an advantage? Is it also that Formula 1 has too many rules and that the FIA is too eager to enforce them?

I have written again and again that I believe the safety car does not belong in Formula 1, because it generates artificial race outcomes whether it is out for a legitimate accident or not.

But is it worth asking those questions and writing about those problems, again and again, when it is easier to turn to something like Le Mans or MotoGP for some relatively scandal-free racing?

Or is it time to take up another hobby?

A lap at Monza

2009-09-07T20:49:00.000-07:00

Like Spa, Monza needs no introduction to race fans, so I do this only for completeness. The spiritual home of Ferrari, this 3.6-mile circuit is one of the fastest on the Formula 1 calendar. Maximum speeds are in excess of 210 mph down the long straightaways. The circuit used to be even more spectacular, with a high-speed banked oval and no chicanes. This original configuration can be seen in the film Grand Prix directed by John Frankenheimer.

My lap was 1:22.842, which would've been good enough to get me into Q3 in 2007!

Variante del Rettifilo is a frustrating "first turn" that requires massive braking from 210 mph to first gear. The purpose of this chicane, of course, is to make Curva Grande a much easier turn than in the old days. Next, it's a blast down another straightaway towards Variante della Roggia, which is slightly faster than the first chicane. At the top of the track are the Lesmo curves, each taken in approximately third gear. Then, it's a long downhill plunge towards Variante Ascari, a very fast, third gear left-right-left chicane. From there, you only need to deal with Parabolica, a very fast right-hander, before coming back to the main straightaway. But you knew all that already, didn't you?

The fictional F1 media? (Part 4)

2009-09-06T19:55:00.000-07:00

As I entered the conference room for my weekly meeting with my mysterious editor, I noticed something unusual. Yes----seated next to my boss was a hunched figure in a dark trench coat and a hat that shaded much of his face. Wanting to seem polite, I introduced myself and reached out for a handshake, but elicited no response from the visitor. My editor said, "Don't bother. He doesn't talk." He motioned me to sit.

Strange. Who could this be? At first, I thought this might be the Stig, but then I remembered that the black Stig had died a while ago. Then, I wondered if the man behind the shades could be our mythical informant who might have more information about Max Mosley's private life.

"Checkpoint 10, I'd like you to meet Piero. He is our hired assassin."

I flinched. Who did we hire now? How is this related to journalism? Am I in danger? Sensing my concern, my editor said, "Relax. He is a character assassin. He only deals damage with words. Piero, show him what you have produced."

Piero handed me an index card with some typewritten text. I read silently, then aloud, "'Look how bad you are.'" It took me a second to comprehend the full meaning of those words. Then I muttered, "You didn't come up with that..."

Piero nodded. I protested, "This... punning, it is beneath our esteemed publication! You'd expect this from The Sun, but we can't let this kind of rubbish get into serious discourse! Sir, you trained me to be better than this!" I demanded an explanation.

Dramatically, my editor said, "It is time for you to learn the full power of the media. Piero has very extensive training in the Dark side of the English language from Fox News in America. He can help us achieve our mission..."

"To bring the masses fair and enlightened journalism?" I asked, somewhat doubtfully now.

"No, my young writer," said my blurry editor. "Clearly, you have much to learn. Allow me to explain our real purpose." As soon as he said this, I stood up and excused myself for a minute. It is a tradition of mine to bring in a can of soda and a bowl of peanuts before listening to the editor's long-winded revelations about Formula 1 or the F1 media.

When I came back into the room, both of them were still sitting there, like dogs that have been commanded to stay. I leaned back in my chair and said, "Shoot."

I was treated to a story of how the Formula 1 media's true objective is to control the sport via control of the public discourse. All very run-of-the-mill, we're-going-to-take-over-the-world kind of stuff, but that didn't quite answer my question. So I spoke up.

"Why do you hate Luca Badoer?"

Clearly, neither my editor nor Piero expected that question.

"We're not going to get into that. The important thing is that, by suggesting there is pressure to remove Badoer, even naming potential replacements, we're going to make Ferrari..."

"Answer my question!" I insisted. "Why do you hate a guy who's never had a good ride, who worked his ass off at Ferrari for the last decade for little or no recognition, who's been victimized by the 'no testing' rule in recent years? Who has richly deserved a real opportunity to achieve a World Championship point that has tragically eluded him during the 1990s? The man who broke down in tears when his Minardi failed en route to a 4th place finish! Why don't you have any sympathy for him? Have you no heart?"

I found myself screaming at the top of my lungs. "You Grinch! You heckler! You..." I was momentarily out of analogies.

"Calm down, my young friend. After the disappointment with Schumacher, it's going to great if Giancarlo Fisichella can score..."

"With all due respect, Giancarlo has won three races. He's scored 275 points. He doesn't need to prove anything. Neither does Schumacher. But Luca does. And you ruined the chance of a lifetime for him and for the sport!" I was furious. I felt like I was defending a helpless kid from a playground bully. I added, "If you don't give me an honest answer about what you have against Luca Badoer, I shall walk away from these premises and never return."

To show how serious I was, I logged onto Checkpoint 10 and put my mouse over the "Delete blog" link. "I'm going to do it, man!"

My senior journalist said, "Okay! Okay! I will tell you." (I thought, 'Whew! That was an easy bluff to pull off.')

"Well," said the boss. "I'm jealous of Luca."

Still holding my mouse in position, I said, "Go on..."

"I'm jealous of, well, all race car drivers, actually. Button, Badoer, Hamilton, everyone. I mean, you wanted to be a race car driver, too, didn't you? But you ended up working here. Just once in a while, it's nice to see one of them... how to say it... brought down to earth."

"So, you enjoy destroying them. Rather, you enjoy building them up and then destroying them."

"You might call it that."

"Well, I'm no coward like you." I pushed the button. The jaws drop on both my editor and Piero.

"Excuse me. I have something to take care of." I left both of them in the conference room, speechless. Within hours, a representative of the mainstream media was going to ask Stefano Domenicali: "In various areas of the international media, Luca Badoer has picked up the cruel nickname 'Look How Bad You Are'. How embarrassing is that for the Ferrari brand and also for yourself?"

I wasn't going to have any part of it. I was going to be on the phone with Google to get my blog restored.

(This is a work of fiction. See also: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3)

Blame the rules for "race-fixing"

2009-09-02T08:48:00.000-07:00

When you have a lot of rules, you will only see more and more creative loopholes being employed. This concept holds true everywhere from the business world with its "creative accounting" practices, to the agricultural fields where pests evolve more and more sophisticated ways to resist a variety of pesticides. In Formula 1, there is so much money at stake that teams are willing to do all they can to gain that extra advantage over their competitors. In the 21st century the rules are so restrictive that the teams are forced into rule-bending solutions. In this context, to have your hopeless second driver crash out of the race to bring out a safety car would not be unsportsmanlike----rather, it would be a brilliant, original tactic and should be commended.

Sportsmanship is a concept that seems difficult to apply to motor racing, and I don't know if it should. Most people would agree that drivers should never deliberately drive into another driver, and yet, fantasized depictions of motor racing in films such as Star Wars and Speed Racer contain numerous examples of the "villain" driver trying to run the hero off the road or using onboard weapons. Of course, I'm not suggesting that it should happen in real life, but I'm just trying to show that aggressive (potentially unsportsmanlike) driving is part of motor racing. And on the technical side, the "cheaters" have created some of the most awesome spectacles in racing: for example, in 1994, Penske developed at great expense a special engine for Indianapolis that exploited a rule originally intended to promote the use of cheaper, stock-block engines. Is that sporting? Arguably not, since Penske did not compete within the "spirit of the rules." But they had shockingly quick cars during the race, and that was fantastic to watch. And how about the Brabham BT46 "fan car," still a fascinating example of ingenuity in engineering as well as circumvention of the rules.

There is an argument that races should not be fixed because of the involvement of gamblers. To that, I will say that I have no sympathy for gamblers. Formula 1 should not go out of its way to support that industry.

In the Renault case, the FIA will argue, as they always do, that the sport has been brought into disrepute, but similar to the 2009 Australian Grand Prix scandal, it would be the FIA's own fault for performing this investigation. The FIA will never be happy until all the cars are the same, the teams marching to the same step, and drivers are racing on the same line on the circuit. We are already moving closer and closer to that world with a spec Formula 2 and GP2 right at the doorstep. I am tired of saying this, but I believe it would be better for Formula 1 to produce a smaller rulebook. Fewer rules to defeat would mean fewer ways to cheat. And it would be nice to remove all FIA personnel from the circuit except for those responsible for tech inspection and safety.

The real villain at the Singapore Grand Prix was not Renault or Nelson Piquet or an unethical race engineer, but instead it is the safety car. It's an instrument that has produced the most arbitrary race results in recent times. Slow drivers are suddenly given the chance to make up tens of seconds of ground, unlucky drivers are penalized for pitting, and a Pandora's box of troubles opens as everyone rushes into the pit lane simultaneously for service. The safety car is the ultimate race fixer, and I applaud any efforts by a Formula 1 competitor to spotlight this unsavory fact.

I have suggested in the past an electronic method to slow the cars down remotely when a caution period is deemed necessary. Such a method would preserve the gap between cars and prevent anyone from losing or gaining an advantage. But even that could probably be hacked into by the team. To ensure no opportunity for cheating, they should just use the good old-fashioned army of flagmen at the scene of a circuit blockage.

A lap at Spa-Francorchamps

2009-08-27T20:38:00.001-07:00

The Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps is typically regarded as one of the best on the Formula 1 schedule. Attempts to remove it from the calendar have always been met with fierce opposition from racing fans. So, as I climbed into my Ferrari F2007 (in support of Luca Badoer this weekend), I expected to enjoy my test session at the legendary Formula 1 venue.

But strangely, I did not connect very well to this fast road course. It was difficult to get into a rhythm; sure, Eau Rouge was daunting as ever, but the rest of the circuit felt more like a test track than a proper road course, with all of its boring constant-radius corners and gentle elevation changes. My best lap was 1:49.315, which would've edged out only Sakon Yamamoto in the Super Aguri in qualifying for the 2007 Grand Prix.

After driving down the uniquely truncated start/finish straight, you'll arrive at La Source, which I consider a "proto-Tilke" hairpin. Slow, flat and pointless, it shows that even old track designs weren't immune to being terrible. Fortunately, this is then redeemed by Eau Rouge, the legendary uphill chicane with a blind exit taken flat-out at over 190 mph. Then, it's downhill all the way, both literally and figuratively. Les Combes is a typical modern chicane, Malmedy and Rivage are forgettable corners at the top of the hill. Then it's a series of very boring corners Turn 11 to 16 (I won't even bother naming them) which feel like the worst bits of the new Nurburgring and Hungaroring. This section is followed by a 200+ mph stretch with a couple gentle kinks, before you brake hard for the Bus Stop, a frustratingly anticlimactic end to the lap. If it weren't for Eau Rouge, I would lobby for the removal of the Belgian Grand Prix from the calendar. Maybe they should axe it, anyway; I hear that Eau Rouge is really nothing like it used to be, as it is now considered "easy" due to all the downforce generated by the current crop of Formula 1 cars.

Luca Badoer's race lap analysis

2009-08-23T16:37:00.001-07:00

An analysis of the Ferrari drivers' lap times shows that Luca Badoer lapped about 2 to 3 seconds slower than Kimi Raikkonen during the first stint of the race, but decreased the gap to 1 to 2 seconds by the end of the race. While Raikkonen turned in very consistent lap times during all three stints, Badoer's lap chart was marred by a troubled second stint, during which he served a drive-through penalty and then turned in some strangely inconsistent lap times----perhaps he was trying to get out of the way of the leaders or something was wrong with his car. After his final pit stop, Badoer set his fastest lap on Lap 52 (1:40.490), faster than both of the Toro Rosso cars.

A lap at Sears Point

2009-08-22T21:34:00.000-07:00

I would consider Sears Point one of the more underrated road courses in the United States. It features numerous blind corners, elevation changes, and almost no place to rest. It's also a relatively "primitive" facility, but I mean that in a good way, as the circuit reminds me of the old-school road courses with little barrier protection and run-off in certain areas, a big drag-strip doubling as a back straightaway, and spectacular hills that are untainted by modern buildings. When you think about it, Sears Point is the closest thing we have to the classic Riverside circuit, which was tragically torn down in favor of a shopping mall.

The lap I'm showing here is the "full" circuit. The Indy cars are using a slightly different layout that can be seen in this video.

So it's flat out through Turn 1 as you go uphill towards a blind right Turn 2. The version I'm using for rFactor makes this part really bumpy, but it's probably smoother and faster in real life. Turn 3 is another fast left, and then Turn 3a requires quite a bit of braking and features another blind exit. Turn 4 is a tight right-hander that leads downhill, but this is followed by a crest that could destabilize your car going into Turn 6, a carousel. From there you are placed onto the drag strip, but shortly afterward you'll drive onto a dogleg towards the double-apex Turn 7. I understand the Indy cars actually take the drag strip all the way down towards a tighter hairpin, but the idea is the same. Next, Turns 8, 8a, 9 and 10 are just a series of fast left-right-left-rights----similar to Turns 2 to 7 at Riverside. The hairpin at Turn 11 returns you to the start/finish line. A wild ride.

Luca is not that slow

2009-08-22T08:59:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it----I'm a long-time fan of Luca Badoer, and I have been hoping for his comeback since 1999, when he was denied the opportunity to replace Michael Schumacher following Schumacher's accident at the British Grand Prix. Afterwards, it seemed like we would never see what the 1992 Formula 3000 champion was truly capable of in a decent Formula 1 car. Needless to say, I was overjoyed to learn that Badoer would be substituting for the injured Felipe Massa in a Ferrari.

The media set the expectation quite high for Badoer's return. His performance in qualifying for the European Grand Prix has been labeled "embarrassingly slow" by an unsympathetic Grandprix.com, "very poor" by the BBC, and "plain Bad" by the tabloid Sun. Some publications have joked that Luca's been slow everywhere but the pit lane, where he exceeded the speed limit four times during practice.

But was it really as bad as it looked? First of all, let's get the record straight: Badoer was only 2.57 seconds off from Raikkonen's time in Q1, not 3.5 seconds as misreported by Grandprix.com. Secondly, keep in mind that Valencia is a relatively long circuit, with average lap times around the 1 minute 40 second mark. Badoer's time was actually 102.6% within Raikkonen's from the same session, and 103.4% away from the fastest lap of qualifying (1:38.076) set by Rubens Barrichello.

This year's grid has been very close, with teammates typically not exceeding 101% of each others' times (based on an informal scanning of this year's qualifying results). However, in previous years, it was not unusual to see a larger gap between teammates. In 1995, Johnny Herbert (who is not considered a poor driver) was routinely between 1 to 2 seconds off the pace from Michael Schumacher in qualifying; yet he scored two victories that season.

It may be tempting to call Badoer the new "Yuji Ide," but Badoer's result compares favorably to Ide's abysmal qualifying debut that was 109.9% from the fastest lap of the session (102.9% away from Takuma Sato).

Further exaggerating Badoer's lack of pace is the fact that his teammate is an ex-World Champion. Finally, remember that he had no prior knowledge of the circuit and that he had not tested the Ferrari F60 before Friday.

Consider that when Mika Hakkinen came back from retirement to test the McLaren in 2006, he found himself 3 seconds (104.0%) off the pace from the session's fastest driver, which happened to be Luca Badoer. Incidentally, in that same session, Badoer was nearly a second quicker than the other Ferrari test driver, Marc Gene.

All in all, it appears that Badoer is doing the best that could be expected out of a driver who has been out of work for a while. Whether he can improve has yet to be seen, but the fact that he has not made any serious mistakes on the circuit bodes well for his continuing program to gain maximum experience and confidence out of the car.

A lap at the Valencia Street Circuit

2009-08-20T23:19:00.001-07:00

A year ago, I posted my impressions of the Valencia Street Circuit, calling it "another Hermann Tilke circuit with walls." This year, I provide an updated, perhaps more informed, opinion based on my driving around on rFactor. My lap time: 1:41.237, which is about 2 seconds slower than the slowest qualifiers for the 2008 Grand Prix, but should be close enough to get an idea of the lap.

I shall be much kinder to this circuit than I was last year, when I blogged about the lap solely from an onboard video I saw. Valencia is surprisingly fun to drive on----I would even rate it above Melbourne. Valencia is a fast circuit, with fun features such as the huge Turn 1, a 200 mph back straightaway, and the fascinating, nearly flat-out complex of Turns 17 to 24. And I don't get tired of pounding out lap after lap----an indication of a good racing circuit!

Is it too wide? Yes. A bit flat? Certainly. But still, Valencia is much better than circuits like Shanghai, Bahrain and Sepang. And it's actually close to the real Formula 1 fans.

A lap at Mid-Ohio

2009-08-08T00:16:00.001-07:00

When I first followed auto racing in the 1990s, my favorite driver was three-time CART champion Bobby Rahal. For several years, I cheered on the bespectacled Ohioan, who was known for quietly winning races and championships through consistency rather than outright speed. He seemed to be quite intelligent as well----Rahal was a rare university graduate in the CART field, and he also started and raced in his own team with admirable success. For me, it was a massive disappointment that I never actually watched him winning a race----his last CART victory was in 1992, and he carried on for six more futile years before retiring.

Rahal won at Mid-Ohio only twice, in 1985 and 1986. However, he always managed to run well on his home course. He placed 3rd on his final race at Mid-Ohio, after charging from 16th on the grid. I still remember one of his passes: he went on the outside of a rival going into Turn 4, placing him on the inside line going into Turn 5, where he completed the maneuver cleanly. I thought that was absolutely brilliant. And I thought: "One day, I am going to be a race car driver just like Bobby Rahal."

It didn't quite work out that way. But thanks to rFactor, I was able to take Rahal's 1995 Lola-Mercedes out for a virtual spin at Mid-Ohio. My lap time was 1:09.318, which would have qualified me 22nd in 1995, ahead of ex-Formula 1 drivers Eddie Cheever and Eliseo Salazar.

Turn 1 is a very quick left that requires only a slight tap on the brakes. In fact, skilled and brave drivers using a properly set-up car may not need to brake at all. Having cleared this hurdle, you race towards the Keyhole, a tight hairpin right with all sorts of elevation changes and bumps. Usually, by now I would've made some terminal mistake such as running wide in Turn 1 or missing the braking point for the Keyhole. But in the miraculous event that I'm still on pace to set a time, I would look for the cones ahead of Turn 4 and start braking at the 2nd set, downshifting to 3rd gear to take the car uphill. Turn 5 is really bumpy and easy to lose grip there. Turns 6 to 8 are known as the Esses, and they are meant to be taken quite fast, but I never figured out how to get through them past 2nd gear. After Turn 9, you get a chance to breathe in Thunder Valley, a short straightaway. But this is actually a pretty dangerous part of the circuit----I've lost concentration and ruined several good laps while resting in Thunder Valley. The thing is, you need to remember that the circuit goes uphill towards Turn 11, a very fast left-hander that requires one downshift. Finally, there's a carousel that seems to tighten as you drive around it... almost like that Tilke trick-corner at the beginning of the Shanghai circuit. And that's a lap at Mid-Ohio.

Now let's see how the pros do it: