Now There Are Six
After enjoying an exciting Tissot Sprint on Saturday, I was looking forward to watching another MotoGP Sunday at The Pretentiously Named Circuit of the Americas, deep in the heart. My plans were derailed late Saturday night when I found myself on the bathroom floor of my house having what turned out to be a minor stroke. My right hand was giving me sass, and I was unable to get on my feet. My phone, which normally offers me a six-digit code I use to unlock it, gave the appearance of having only five blanks, which was largely immaterial as I could not type nor slide the bar necessary to unlock it. My facial recognition screen was not recognizing me, possibly because I was covered in, well, puke. After a half hour struggle I made it back to my bed and resolved to wait until something happened to improve my status. My daughter and her husband showed up on Sunday morning, freaked the hell out, called 9-1-1, and off I went via ambulance for a four-day excursion through the medical/industrial complex at Indiana University Hospital.
The good news was that I became stable during the day on Sunday. I regained 95% of the use of my hand by Tuesday, my legs started working again, and I was largely comfortable, other than the fiendish hospital bed and the unfathomable sheets and blankets they provided. The bad news was that during the interminable rounds of tests they gave me to assess my condition they discovered that I probably have atrial fibrillation and that there is a better than even chance that my cancer is busily recurring, having left my pancreas and taken up residence in my liver.
Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?
Contrary to my usual practice, I am not going to spoil the race for those of you who have not seen it. For once, it was as good as Matt and Louis made it out to be. The subhead of this piece refers to the number of actual title contenders currently employed in the premier class. Four Ducati pilots–Pecco Bagnaia, Enea Bastianini, Jorge Martin and, yes, Marc Marquez, who crashed out of the lead for his second consecutive DNF but is showing definite signs of professional life in 2024. Aprilia veteran Maverick Vinales, who became one of only five riders ever to win premier class races with three different manufacturers. And, surprising few people even casually familiar with this sport, rookie Pedro Acosta on the KTM-GasGas machine.
As I am not 100%, I’m going to stop here and promise to better starting with Jerez. Those of you who have been reading this drivel for years will kindly dispense with the sincere best wishes and instead keep your affectionate slings and arrows coming, as usual. I expect to be writing this stuff for a good long while yet, and have no time for maudlin.
Cheers.
Factor in the cosmic motion brought on by new ECU and Michelins, and uncharacteristically good performances by names like Barbera and Redding–indeed, much of the Ducati contingent–and you could leave Qatar with three Ducs in the top five. Then move the entire show to the Middle of Nowhere, Argentina-style for the annual Bungle in the Jungle, aka Hot and Hondarific, two weeks later, followed immediately by another Honda clambake the ensuing week in Austin.
Vinales is an Alien waiting to happen, looking for that big contract next season, which might even come from Suzuki. Suzuki needs another two man team and more data; they’re onto something there and they need to wear long pants and do this thing right. They could win the whole thing in a year or two.
Andrea Iannone should have what it takes to be the top Ducati rider in 2016, meaning he should be a top three contender. So Iannone, Redding and Vinales challenge Lorenzo and Marquez each week and Rossi some weeks, with more of Pedrosa or Barbera late in the season.
I’ve just discovered something I, as a would be writer, loathe. Note to self: Never use this technique unless it pertains to, say, the last race of the season, 5 points separating teammates and rivals, Marquez in the mix, in which case it may be permissible to jock the sport while you’re reporting on it. Otherwise, DO NOT PROMOTE MOTOGP WHILE YOU’RE IN REPORTER MODE.
people I know and people in the universe to read about it. But when I’m on deadline, getting paid to think hard about the sport, I’m not taking time out to ponder how I love Michelin tires on my ride. It’s bad form, especially for someone like me who doesn’t ride at all. Of course, if I ever found a sponsor willing to buy me a disclaimer, no telling what might happen. None of the OEMs that MO deals with want to sully their reputations by sponsoring the likes of me, and who can blame them?
What my readers expect from me is an objective accounting of events up to and including the race, delivered with as many laughs as I can haul out of th
So, we will call the 2016 season the way we see it. At this juncture, it looks like Vinales is going to be a top four guy, and even Redding, taking to the Duc like a duc to water, is sniffing around the top of the timesheets. Pedrosa looks miserable, Marquez desperate to stay on the bike with any pace at all, and Rossi sounding unconvincingly like all the changes work in his favor. Lorenzo, meanwhile, has that look in his eye. As he learned in 2011 and 2013, however, the look in the eye thing doesn’t necessarily get you a repeat, a threepeat or a fourpeat.
Late-Braking MotoGP 