The 2008 F1 Belgian Grand Prix was an awesome race, until a few moments after it had ended.
I was, and still am, outraged at the FIA stewards' decision to demote Lewis Hamilton. Clearly, and all eyes were watching because they suspected that it would happen, Lewis cut the chicane, then backed off to let Kimi pass. One clear. Moments later, Nico Rosberg appeared out of nowhere, making both Lewis and Kimi, who were almost neck-and-neck at the time, take evasive action. Lewis took to the grass, losing out big time. Kimi got ahead of Nico, but spun after the next turn, allowing Lewis to retake the lead. In none of that had Lewis broken any rules. It was pure racing, and when Kimi slipped and went off the track, colliding with the wall, it was tragic. The last two laps of the Belgian GP had more action packed into them than almost all the GPs of 2008 so far, put together. The decision was a sham. It's taking the essence out of F1 racing, if not the racing itself.
Another point to draw attention to, is that there were three stewards involved in that decision. Not any Ferrari team members, or Kimi for that matter had a problem. Bottom-feeder Massa just happened to be in the right place at the right time, again.
And coming back to the three stewards, one of them was also involved in an incident with WRC driver Sebastien Loeb. Apparently, Loeb's "scruffy" look is not to the steward's liking, as according to him, "Loeb is a role model to so many children everywhere". Clearly, he misunderstands the concept of sport. It's not the player, but his game! How many of us would even bother about Sebastien's bloody hair, if we happened to meet him in a crowd somewhere in the middle of Europe. It's his driving that is to be appreciated, to be emulated. Not his hair or his beard! And that's happening to a lot of sportsstars in various countries. When will these incompetent authorities who don't have a sporting bone in their body realise that they're only needed to arrange venues and sort out things like performance margins and limits. They should stay as far away from the actual sporting event as they can, much less make decisions that directly affect the outcome of a sporting event.
What occurred in Belgium was disgraceful, and it only leads one to think why is it that they're after sportsstars the calibre of a Lewis Hamilton, or a Sebastien Loeb.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Xianne - here to stay...
It's been 8 months. I like her. I adored her before I got her, then after a while, things started to happen. I wouldn't say she's high maintenance, but I have to be very careful when I go out with her. If ever, I go too fast, she puts me in my place.. I have to pick a perfect time, and that hugely depends on where I am. To truly appreciate her, crowded city roads aren't the place, it has to be some place deserted, or the highway!
20bhp! I was thrilled at the thought when I read the first reports. About a year after launch, I had her. The decision was sudden. I had Sylvia. She was always just herself, throwing tantrums at almost regular intervals, till one day the docs got it wrong. A botched inspection left her with a nagging noise, and jitters from the clutch cover. I couldn't stand it. Ten days and complete overhaul later, the problem was still there. I need to ride. I needed a bike bad. Enter 220. One test ride I got, upon convincing the blokes there after dozens of dyno rides, and that made me confirm my choice. I wanted the best out there, and she was it. The Karizma, in my opinion, is crap, more importantly, something I would never want to, or even imagine owning. The RTR160 was awesome, but a tad (ok, a lot) smaller than I would have liked. But the 220, when I looked at the spec sheet, outshone her "rivals" by a huge margin.
Two months later, I had my first ever crash. It destroyed all my notions about me being a good rider. Barely a month and a half later, another one! This one left the bike broken now, and my knee, today, is still healing from the successive assault, which it endured thankfully. I read articles on how riders encounter panic situations at times, and I consoled myself solely on those grounds. But now I realise I can be a much better, more responsible rider.
I must admit that I, on many occassions, contemplated sale. But, for some reason or another, fought the thought. Till one day, just this week, I was approached with a genuine offer. I get her out of the parking, put in the key. The guy gets on, goes off for a ride. He returns barely a minute later saying "she's not responding". I wondered what had happened? Had he broken her in the first go?? I got on, turned the key off, and on again, watched as the needle went upto 12 and back. Then thumbed the starter. Nothing, a choking sound. There were 4 bars on the fuel gauge, couldn't be... I took her back in. Turned off the kill switch. Turned the key again. Turned on the kill switch. A dry whirr of the fuel pump followed. No fuel. 8 months it never gave a false reading, yet now, it showed 4 bars when the tank was almost bone dry. Surprised, I needed to check. I took Sylvia to the nearest BP joint, filled her up with Speed and headed back. Pipe and bottle later, I turned on the kill switch. The dry whirr turned into the sound of active pumping. I thumbed the starter and she came to life again.
No sale. Period.
She's mine.
20bhp! I was thrilled at the thought when I read the first reports. About a year after launch, I had her. The decision was sudden. I had Sylvia. She was always just herself, throwing tantrums at almost regular intervals, till one day the docs got it wrong. A botched inspection left her with a nagging noise, and jitters from the clutch cover. I couldn't stand it. Ten days and complete overhaul later, the problem was still there. I need to ride. I needed a bike bad. Enter 220. One test ride I got, upon convincing the blokes there after dozens of dyno rides, and that made me confirm my choice. I wanted the best out there, and she was it. The Karizma, in my opinion, is crap, more importantly, something I would never want to, or even imagine owning. The RTR160 was awesome, but a tad (ok, a lot) smaller than I would have liked. But the 220, when I looked at the spec sheet, outshone her "rivals" by a huge margin.
Two months later, I had my first ever crash. It destroyed all my notions about me being a good rider. Barely a month and a half later, another one! This one left the bike broken now, and my knee, today, is still healing from the successive assault, which it endured thankfully. I read articles on how riders encounter panic situations at times, and I consoled myself solely on those grounds. But now I realise I can be a much better, more responsible rider.
I must admit that I, on many occassions, contemplated sale. But, for some reason or another, fought the thought. Till one day, just this week, I was approached with a genuine offer. I get her out of the parking, put in the key. The guy gets on, goes off for a ride. He returns barely a minute later saying "she's not responding". I wondered what had happened? Had he broken her in the first go?? I got on, turned the key off, and on again, watched as the needle went upto 12 and back. Then thumbed the starter. Nothing, a choking sound. There were 4 bars on the fuel gauge, couldn't be... I took her back in. Turned off the kill switch. Turned the key again. Turned on the kill switch. A dry whirr of the fuel pump followed. No fuel. 8 months it never gave a false reading, yet now, it showed 4 bars when the tank was almost bone dry. Surprised, I needed to check. I took Sylvia to the nearest BP joint, filled her up with Speed and headed back. Pipe and bottle later, I turned on the kill switch. The dry whirr turned into the sound of active pumping. I thumbed the starter and she came to life again.
No sale. Period.
She's mine.
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