The Glass Road

DUNLOP Corner Le mans Sarthe, julien.reboulet, 2011

It's been years since I watched Formula One. I stumbled across it at the age of nine one Sunday morning and saw Martin Brundle do a barrel-roll at the start of the 1996 Australian Grand Prix. From then on I tuned in every race weekend supporting Damon Hill's championship run against the evil Darth Vader Michael Schumacher, even getting up at 5am for final race in Japan. I stayed with the sport through to about 2002 when my interest waned concurrent with Schumacher's domination. Contrast that with my favourite season of 1999 when Schumacher was absent with injury for several months and it looked like (almost) anyone could win - even the scrappy underdogs, Jordan. I was rooting for Heinz-Harald Frentzen that year. The era was also the last days of the privateer teams before they were all seemingly bought up by factory teams, or at least their grid spots were to avoid the costly registration process with the FIA (hence, Tyrrell became BAR became Honda became Brawn GP became Mercedes GP within the space of twelve years). Of the private teams, only McLaren and Williams have survived largely because Mercedes and BMW, respectively, turned them into semi-factory teams in the recent past. Interestingly, 1999 was also the year of the first Malaysian Grand Prix at the Sepang International Circuit designed by one Herman Tilke.

It's No Game

Beijing 2008 sponsors @ April 2007, xiaming

Already long ago, from when we sold our vote to no man, the People have abdicated our duties; for the People who once upon a time handed out military command, high civil office, legions — everything, now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses.

-Juvenal, Satire X

I think it's about six years since I ditched television and I've even stopped watching the few shows that I used to keep up with by streaming or downloading (South Park, Top Gear, et al), so surely I needn't say I haven't watched the Olympics or the Paralympics. I'm aware that under new laws such action is now classed as treason (and you're not allowed to link to the IOC if you have critical words to say), but Benedict Arnold becomes a hero when you cross the right border. When the Arab Spring hit some of the Gulf States the monarchic governments decreed more bread for the people, not unlike Ceaușescu's ad-libbing mere days before his execution, but aren't they forgetting the circuses?

My Favourite Game

My Mercedes-Benz CLK-GTR 98, Gran Turismo 4

What's that old Douglas Adams quote?

I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.

At least Adams' were set by his publisher - mine are all my own making and I was much better at meeting them last year. I was hoping to complete a lot of draft posts this month but I dropped everything to play Gran Turismo 4 for three weeks. I know I'm an instalment behind, but it got neglected in favour of Metal Gear Solid 3 at the time.

All Together Now

Alex Song: Cameroon 2010, tsevis, 2009

Before the South Africa finals, I hadn't watched any football since the 2006 World Cup. Somehow I managed to completely miss Euro 2008. As Scotland failed to qualify as usual, I wasn't hindered by great expectations, dreams of glory or any other kind of emotional high. Unlike England. Despite thirty-two teams competing in the 2010 tournament; the one we have to hear about again and again is of course, that team that won it once a very long time ago. Any time England qualifies for the World Cup the national media (being mostly based South of the border) will drop 1966 into every possible topic or story. Only the Welsh and maybe Northern Ireland could also understand how irritating that is. Though only one thing could be more annoying that having to hear about a missed penalty for a week - England winning.

Billions and Billions and Billions and Billions and Billions of Pounds, Billions of Pounds (Corruption, Corruption)

jump-you-fuckers, matthewnstoller, 2008

It's World Cup time, not that I've seen much so far. It seems whenever I go to BBC iPlayer to watch a game it's audio only because fucking ITV have the broadcast rights to that particular fixture. So I had the misfortune of enduring commercial television for the first time in quite a while. I already knew the rampant commercialism of sport is sickeningly omnipresent, but it's still aggravating to see product after over-priced Chinese slave-laboured product so-tenuously linked to the World Cup being hawked as if there's no tomorrow.

Statues

I don't usually read the Sunday Herald so close to its date of publication (traditionally read on a Wednesday at 0Dark Hundred). I only got round to reading last week's on Thursday night; having only just finished today's, my feeling that the days are running together is reinforced. I especially hate it when I read the pre-big-event coverage after having watched said event - in this case, the World Cup final.