Anyone but Alonso – the slightly warped world of the anti-fan – German GP 2011
This week’s action comes from the Nürburgring, a circuit I am very familiar with due to my extensive computer gaming experience. The circuit is some 500 meters above sea level in the German mountain region, so this should suit our brunette Yeti Alonso.
An excellent start by Lewis as Webber is caught reading the adverts on his overalls, leaving Teflonso and Vettel to duke it out behind them. For some reason the Teflon Don forgets to turn and Vettel steals back third place. Can’t help but thinking that maybe Button should change his name to Zipper as we all know zips are faster than buttons, just a thought mate.
Vettel seems to be choking in front of his home fans as he has a pleasant looking spin, or maybe he’s just showboating due to his almost unassailable points lead? Buemi pushes Heidfeld off the track, further heaping on the pain for the home fans. The normally happy and comical Germans are starting to look a bit glum and serious.
Webber cheekily passes Lewis whilst Lewis is chatting to his team on the phone, luckily he decides to hang up and he retakes first place. A whole series of pit stops leaves the un-pitted Massa out front and Ferrari take the opportunity to slow the race down for a bit so we can all look at the lovely sponsorship on the cars. Massa eventually pits and the triumphant Webber gets to lead his first lap of the year and the Aussie press instantly label him a hero.
It’s a shame to see the BBC have forgotten all of their weather predicting equipment, which results in poor Martin Brundle having to look at a puddle for the whole race just to give us up to date weather conditions.
A brief glimpse of action as the resident octogenarian Michael Schumacher wakes the dozing crowd by doing some doughnuts on lap 24. After another round of pit stops, Lewis takes first and immediately gives Webber a little kiss to push him off the track as Webber attempts to overtake at turn 2. Alonso’s pit stop brings him out into first place a lap later but Lewis, always the patient teacher, shows Webber how to properly overtake at turn 2 and whizzes past the pedestrian Teflonso.
A disappointing finish for Button as he retires his car from the race with hydraulic problems, although on the plus side, he can now grab a hot cup of Bovril to chase away the 13C temperature out there.
I feel my eyes getting heavy as we get to the last third of the race and it is starting to look like the race will be decided by the last set of pit stops. There’s a lot of talk that the teams may leave it until the final lap to put on new tyres, so I take the opportunity to go grab a beer from the fridge.
Lewis takes a gamble and swoops into the pits with eight laps to go, Teflonso waits a lap but not even pedal power could give him the extra time needed to pass Lewis, so he remains in second place. This now puts Webber in the dark horse position, the only man who can ruin Lewis’s weekend, but knowing his luck, that’s somewhat doubtful. If Webber didn’t have bad luck he wouldn’t have any luck at all, a statement proved when he re-emerges from his pit stop in third place.
All eyes are now on the battle for fourth place between Massa and Vettel and with two laps to go, and both of them needing to pit; the team tell Vettel to do the opposite of whatever Massa does. I’m momentarily confused as I thought Vettel had been doing that all season, i.e. winning, but what they actually mean is that if Massa pits then Vettel should stay out and vice versa. Vettel is obviously as confused as me as he follows Massa into the pits, leaving the speed of the mechanics to decide fourth place. Now given that Marlboro sponsor Ferrari and Red Bull sponsor - well Red Bull, my money is on the energy drinking crew rather than the chain smoking one. A hunch that is proved correct as Vettel exits the pits ahead of Massa.
Lewis once again rubs Alonso’s nose in it and takes the chequered flag with a friendly wave. Alonso’s car then runs out of petrol on the warm-down lap and Webber, clairvoyantly knowing what he’ll be doing next season, acts the taxi driver and picks him up.
Up on the podium Alonso looks like he’s choking on a fur-ball as our National Anthem is played. He then tries to blind Lewis with his losers champagne spray, but this is thwarted by the wideness of Lewis’s winning smile catching it all.
So on to Hungary for next week’s race, which apparently will suit the Ferraris as they don’t like the cold, poor little luvs.