Marquez manages to push the boundaries; using the Tigers’ Teeth to slice additional feet off every corner/lose the front every other lap, (having ignored the rear for several seasons), and still leave everyone in his wake – then on the last lap, last corner, he locks the front wheel and collects it all up with a hoot of laughter & a shake of his head. What entertainment at this year’s Grand Prix of Americas.
And, we also see Dovi posting a superb ride to put the, “un-rideable” Ducati on the podium, Bradley finishing in fifth, (the top Yamaha), ahead of both Rossi & Lorenzo, and Scott showcasing his wealth of talent until front tyre woes scupper his race.The only fly in the ointment was Cal’s crash, resulting in a, “broken hand”, (metatarsal?), his right to make matters as awkward as possible.
So, despite Marc making the race a bit of a procession, MotoGP continues to enthral – roll on Argentina.
The weather was particularly kind, with glorious warm spring sunshine to go with the teas, coffees and (awesome!) strawberry tarts kindly laid on by good folks of the Buccleuch and R. Little the bakers in Moffat.
Finally, our very own big tart (James) had the pleasure of handing over MotoGoLoco’s donation (cash + prizes) to Breast Way Round Chair Person, Chrissie Evans.
It’s always amazing just how much draw a big crowd of bikes has to people, with loads of passers by stopping in for a nosey and a chat (and more than a few kindly offering donations too). Moffat itself was buzzing with the kind of fantastic, friendly atmosphere events like this brings, and all the better for it.
All in all, a cracking afternoon with some great company – thanks girls, all the best for 2014′s efforts!
For years I’ve been muttering about the BBC’s apparently perverse decision to persevere with Charlie Cox as half of their MotoGP commentary team. If I heard, “across the stripe!” one more time, I’d have screamed. “He’s got the magnets on”, was slightly less irksome, but I would have paid good money to fit the antipodean plank with his very own third armpit. On learning of the BBC losing the television rights to MotoGP, I thought that BT Sport might make a better fist of it all minus Mr Cox.
Today I watched the excellent race at the Qatar GP on the Losail circuit, and I missed the BBC quality I had begun to take for granted over the last several years. Gone was the annoying Cox, but so too was Steve Parish whose appreciation and inside knowledge was so pivotal to my watching pleasure. Replaced by Keith Huewen, almost as knowledgeable as Parish but lacking his adroit commentary skills. Julian Ryder is a walking GP encyclopaedia and well worth listing to, but his commentary style is overly mannered and, to my ears, best suited to the written word. James Toseland added style, knowledge, and recent experience to the mix, aided by the excellent Neil Hodgson whose riding is somewhere north of Mr Parish – who is no slouch.
And the anchor presenter?
One Melanie Sykes, who makes Charlie Cox look like an asset! Her whining, nasal, delivery intrudes, and merely serves to highlight her complete lack of motorcycle racing knowledge and understanding.
And I haven’t even mentioned the inevitable advert breaks – I was spoiled by the BBC.
My plan now is to record the races and fast forward those parts designed to attract an audience profile south of puberty.
Off to Pinchbeck on Monday for a day road training, sun shinning from early doors and a completely dry day throughout.
This winter has been characterised by wet and mild days, with only three days marred by road salt, so the 386 miles were enjoyable if a little cooler than Sunday’s glorious spring conditions.
If doubt existed as to the season’s change I collected four flies, (the first of the year), and they’ll be joined by thousands of their brethren as the year unfolds – here’s hoping for a repeat of 2013′s glorious summer.
At last Ireland’s long awaited summer is here – from 09:30 it rained, then rained some more, and then it really let loose. What is termed in these parts as a, “soft”, day.
However, it felt OK compared to most days over the last six weeks, as the temperature had raised itself off the floor, and whilst persistently persisting, it was relatively warm. You take what you can when you don’t have an option.
Having lubed the chain last night, and cleaned & polished my 20 year old Altberg “All Season Hoggs”, I started the day in fine shape. By the time I got to Wicklow however, by boots were the worse for wear, covered in animal excrement, grit & general mire – you guessed it – another polishing session ensued! (NB – at my age polishing boots is about all the excitement I can handle!)
Jim’s Alberg boots – 20 years old & still going strong!
Today’s route took me through the Wicklow Mountains, at least according to Mapsource it did, I saw nothing as the cloud cover was at zero feet above sea level.
Arriving at tonight’s hotel I took childish delight in my bike being the talk of the lounge, one in the eye for all those tin boxes parked outside. That said they were remarkably dry whilst I was creating puddles wherever I walked.