Super Duper GT3 Finals Weekend

In my sheer unending brilliance, I once claimed you can never-ever-ever have too many GT3 cars. I’m not sure when I said that. Probably somewhere in 2012 or 2013. I truly believed it at the time too, but fast forward to 2016 and I’ve come to realise it’s not entirely true. It turns out there is such a thing as too many GT3 cars – although only when the cars come spread out over three racing series over the course of one and the same weekend.

The weekend of 1-2 October is about to prove it. Due to a small blip that occurred last winter in the department of Racing Series Calendar Planning, next weekend is filled to the brim with GT3 races. Not only is there a GT Open round planned at Monza, there’s also the grand finale of the German ADAC GT Masters taking place in Hockenheim and there’s the Blancpain GT Sprint final in Barcelona. This sudden onslaught of GT3 events has caused quite a mess over the last few weeks.

You see, even though GT racing requires multiple drivers per car, the pool of available GT3 drivers isn’t as big as many might think. As a result, PRO-drivers often sign multiple contracts per season and compete in two or more GT3 series simultaneously. Many combinations are possible, but for European racers the combination of Blancpain Sprint and GT Masters is an extremely common one. So with the finals of both these series clashing over the upcoming weekend, many drivers have been forced to choose between doing either the one or the other.

Haase with teammate Parisy at Blancpain Sprint Nürburgring

Take Christopher Haase, for example. He competes with Saintéloc Racing in Blancpain Sprint and with Land Motorsport in GT Masters, but for this weekend he’s opted to race GT Masters in Hockenheim. Consequently, Saintéloc was left with an empty seat for Blancpain Sprint Barcelona and had to find a substitute racer. Which it did. In the form of Marco Bonanomi. Yes, the very same Marco Bonanomi who normally races with Aust Motorsport in GT Masters and who will now, as a direct result, miss the Hockenheim final! In order to make up for Bonanomi’s sudden disappearance, Aust has had to beg the Audi factory to send them a replacement. Which they did – they sent them Pierre Kaffer. Of course, under normal circumstances Audi would’ve sent its main spare driver Marc Basseng, but since Car Collection had already been suffering an empty seat since August when the aforementioned Haase hopped over to Land Motorsport, Basseng had already been ordered to go and help out the Car Collection crew by the time the Aust call came in and thus wasn’t available.

Am I still making sense? I hope so, because the confusion’s about to get worse.

Both the Blancpain GT and GT Masters standings are currently being led by the same driver: Christopher Mies. Since Mies isn’t an amoebe (not as far as I can tell anyway) and can’t split himself into two separate entities to fight for both titles at the same time, over the last few weeks he saw himself forced to choose which title he would like to win the most. He could play it safe by opting for Blancpain GT, where he and Enzo Ide have an 18-point lead in the title battle. Or he could go for glory by choosing GT Masters; if he and teammate De Philippi can somehow claim the title for Audi despite the GT Masters’ extremely limiting 2016 Audi BoP, that’d be a massive coup for Ingolstadt. In fairness, there’s something to be said for both options. However, no matter what he did, Mies knew he would unavoidably have to disappoint one of the teams he’s loyal to – and in the end he decided he couldn’t do that. So he put the decision in the hands of the Audi bosses, who at length decided that he should fight for glory in GT Masters.

Christopher Mies will race for Land Motorsport in Hockenheim

Audi’s decision meant that last week there were even more changes made to the GT3 driver distribution. I could tell you all about  those changes. If I wanted to, I could tell you everything I know about how WRT decided to put Robin Frijns in Mies’ empty Blancpain GT seat, how this left WRT a driver short on one of their other cars, and how they had to call on the Audi DTM squad to ask if they perhaps had any GT3-savvy drivers available for the weekend of 1-2 October.

But I don’t want to do that.

It would just make for another complicated explanation that takes up too much space on the internet and that’ll give me another ginormous headache. Instead, I’m inclined to remember the words of a man I once met in Zandvoort. He told me that the really important races shouldn’t be discussed, no matter how intriguing the factoids might seem. Instead, such races should simply be experienced. I’ve decided that that’s what I want to try and do this weekend. I want to forget about all the mix-ups and the fact that so many drivers are in the ‘wrong’ car. Instead, I just want to enjoy the action. Because I’m pretty sure it’ll be one hell of a ride.

Bring on #SuperDuperGT3FinalsWeekend

In at the Deep End (with Ben Barnicoat)

I love GT racing to the point where I’ll get up for it in the middle of the night if necessary. Unfortunately, some of my friends struggle to share my enthusiasm. They prefer to stick to what they know; aka single-seaters. I’ve tried to win them over by bombarding them with GT fun facts, but the results of that method have been mixed. So last weekend, while attending the Blancpain Endurance Cup at the Nürburgring, I decided to try something new. The event didn’t just mark the end of the Blancpain Endurance season, it was also the GT debut of Formula 3 ace Ben Barnicoat. Barnicoat was confirmed for Blancpain Nürburgring only 40 hours before the start of the event and barely 24 hours after his first-ever GT test (yikes!), which makes him as new to GT racing as my sceptical friends. If my friends won’t take my word for it that GT racing is cool, then maybe they’ll take that of a single-seater racer who’s crossing over. Guys, this one’s for you!

Out of nowhere WRT announced you’d be driving the Blancpain Endurance final in their number 4 car, alongside Pierre Kaffer and Adrien de Leener. Can you explain how that deal came about? Because I never saw it coming!
“To be honest, I don’t know how it happened either! I just kind of found myself here… On Tuesday the 6th of September I got a phone call from the Racing Steps Foundation. They told me WRT wanted me to test with them in Barcelona, on Wednesday the 14th. I was really excited to get that opportunity, only I’d never driven a GT car before. The test was my first time driving the car and I tried to learn everything I could. I did a qualifying and a race simulation, which went well. At the end of the day the gap to regular WRT-driver Robin Frijns was only about three tenths. I was very happy with that!”

And then they told you the drive was yours?
“No. I thought it was just a test. I had no idea there was any chance of a racing drive, so I just went back to the airport to catch my flight home. At ten o’clock that night, when I was still at the airport, I got another call from the Racing Steps Foundation. They said “okay, you’re going to the Nürburgring this weekend to race Blancpain Endurance on the 17th and 18th”, and I was like “Oh wow… OKAY!!”

You’re new to GT racing. What has the experience been like so far?
“It’s been a really big eye-opener. From the first I was happy about getting this opportunity, but I didn’t realise until I started my preparations how high the level of the Blancpain series is. Obviously I knew it was a strong series from back when I was racing NEC Formula Renault [=a Blancpain support series] in 2014, but I never realised just how much the manufacturers were involved and to what extent they’re pushing the cars.”

And was that the only surprise?
“Everything’s new for me, so there’ve been many surprises. The car, for example, is much harder to drive than I expected. I thought it’d be a little easier than a single-seater, but if anything I’m finding it harder at the moment. I’m also impressed with the high quality of the drivers. Take Robin Frijns. From what he’s done in his single-seater career I knew he was a good driver, but being his teammate and seeing his data… he’s just really, really good! This weekend I’m going to try and learn as much from him as I can. And then there’s the traffic. In single-seaters, if you want to finish well, it’s all about where you qualify; but here in GT, it’s all about who can pass the backmarkers the fastest. I’ve noticed that the bronze drivers, and some of the silver drivers too, don’t always move out of the way straight away, so for a GT newcomer like myself that’s tricky.”

How is the transition going from having your own car to sharing one with two teammates?
“Pierre’s an experienced driver and he’s helping me a lot this weekend. Adrien’s also very kind. It’s nice to be in a car with two such nice people. At first I thought they might be worried because this is my first GT race, but so far I’m showing strong pace and they’re happy with the job I’m doing. So no problems there. But you know, I’ve yet to do a GT-pitstop with a driver change. That’s going to be a challenge.”

As long as you don’t climb out of the car and fall flat on your face, I think you’ll be fine.
“A lot of the guys told me that that was what they expected me to do during my first practice, but luckily it wasn’t that bad. There’s room for improvement, but I always pull it off quickly enough. At any rate, I’m planned to do the last stint of the race so I’ll only have to climb in!”

I have some GT-sceptic friends. Is there anything you’d like to say to them?
“After driving the Audi GT3, I’d say they should definitely give GT racing a chance. As an F3 driver I can say it really isn’t any easier than single-seaters. Also, GT drivers are just as talented as single-seater drivers. Again, Frijns is the perfect example. He probably should’ve been an F1 driver, but in this field he didn’t even qualify in the top two. It just shows how strong the drivers and the teams are. Come Sunday there’ll be some very good battles. It’s well worth watching – and supporting.”

Barnicoat and his teammates had a strong start to their Blancpain Endurance race, but ultimately finished in 29th place after suffering a puncture. If you want to see their race, click here.

Postponing the Inevitable

It’s that time of year again. That time when the season has well passed its midway point. That time when it’s become obvious who the lucky few are that can still go for the title. That time when the first champions are beginning to be crowned. (Although with some luck only in series I don’t follow too closely.) That time when it’s becoming increasingly clear that, as they say in Game of Thrones, winter is coming.

However, it’s also the time when the true end of the season is still just far enough away to go on denying its existence for a little while longer. After all, even if most of the racing calendar is behind us now, most championships have at least a round left to run. Some even have three or four races left to go, like DTM. That means there are still many, many weekends on the way in 2016 in which I can enjoy watching races from my comfy couch. And of course there are also still some weekends on the way in which I’ll go and attend race events live! Although… I’m getting  frighteningly close the bottom of my calendar. There’s Blancpain Endurance this weekend and then VLN8 next week, and then… nothing.

That’s where the list ends.

Or, does it?

My motorsport friends and I have very different characters, but there’s one thing we all have in common. The moment we’re getting signals that our string of race visits is about to end, we all fly into a frenzy. A but-what-if?! frenzy. Suddenly ideas are flying around the room left, right, and center. “Yes, I know VLN8 was the last race we had planned to attend, but the weather is still good and we still have a little bit of money left, so what if we also went to…[fill in event+venue here]?”

It’s not always easy to find races to attend so late in the season. From September onwards, championships either end or leave Europe, to race on tracks where the weather hasn’t gone into early-winter mode yet. But scarce options or no, we somehow always manage to come up with a pretty decent short list. In the last three weeks, I’ve heard many ideas, ranging from attending VLN9 and VLN10 to the GT Masters final in Hockenheim, the DTM final in Hockenheim and even the Blancpain GT Sprint final in Barcelona.

That last one is definitely the most bonkers idea – and probably also the most impossible one to turn into a reality. Provided I can scrape together the money for an air-plane ticket to Barcelona and back, my only option to return home on time for work on Monday morning would be to fly home on Sunday afternoon… during the main race. The other suggestions, however, might well turn out to be doable. Maybe not all of them (that’d cause financial trouble), but with some planning an extra VLN race and perhaps a Hockenheim final seem to be realistic options right now.

My friends and I would really love to extend our race-visit calendars a bit. It would mean getting to see this-and-that driver racing once more in his current car before he/she moves up to another series. It would also mean getting to support our favourite teams one more time. And of course it would mean getting to breathe in one more whiff of gasoline aroma before we’ll have to go without for a whole winter. I guess that’s what all this late-season buzz is really about, when it comes down to it. We’re simply trying to postpone the season’s end; to postpone the coming of the big W and the empty weekends it brings; and, most importantly, to postpone the inevitable. Forever, if we can.

And if we can’t, then at least until the middle of October.

The Grid Girl Garments

Last week I wrote a blog about grid girls. I fully expected to be lynched for it, as the few tweets I posted about grid girls in the past triggered rather extreme replies. However, even though the response to that blog was larger than usual, people on the whole were fairly positive about what I had to say. That has given me the courage to write this second blog about grid girls, to address the other thing about them that I dislike: their clothes.

Before the pitchforks come out, I should quickly say that I’m not writing this blog to criticise the design of the clothes the girls are given to wear. Okay, fine. I’ll admit that personally I see no appeal in girls (or, for that matter, men) who are clad in scantily-designed outfits that leave half their bodies uncovered, but I know everyone is different. Just because I personally would sooner buy a product when it’s promoted by a fluffy puppy than a fashion model, it doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there who prefer to see a model – and as long as that model is willing to do the job and is paid properly for doing it, there’s no reason these people shouldn’t get the visuals they want. Also, there undoubtedly are models who find wearing such outfits empowering. And if so, all power to them.

But what enrages me time and again, is that in motorsport grid girl/promo girl outfits are hardly ever matched with the weather. When an event organiser has decided that their girls should wear heels, a mini skirt and an upper-body garment that holds the middle ground between a tank top and a bra, that is exactly what they will wear. Even if the series races at a track like the Nürburgring, where it’s sometimes 5 degrees Celsius with a storm wind rolling in from the North East.

Too many times I’ve sat on a grandstand, wrapped in six layers of clothing and still freezing, while watching a grid full of girls who are braving the cold in their bare skin, with red knees, pale hands, frozen fingers, and blue lips. I know grid girls are paid a good salary for the work they do, but somehow I can’t imagine they knowingly sign up for such dreadful working conditions. Surely they expect better than that – and, moreover, deserve better than that?

I’ll never forget the pitwalk I did at Zandvoort a few years ago. It was below ten degrees and the sea wind was howling around the pit building. The promo girls that day were clad in cat suits so thin that I couldn’t just tell the form and model of their underpants, in one case I could even tell the colour. All of them were shivering like mad. As the pitwalk went on, the girls suffered more and more from hypothermia. After fifteen minutes one dropped the sign she was holding and walked away. Her neighbour decided on a different tactic. She turned to the mechanics in the garage behind her and begged them for a coat. Nobody even bothered to look up. So she turned to another garage for aid, but got the same response there. In the end one of the fans pulled a vest out of his bag and handed it to her. I’ve rarely seen such gratitude on a race track.

I know for a fact that I’m not the only one bothered by this mismatch of weather and clothing. Last year, while attending an event I won’t name here, I was walking through the paddock and came across a member of the organisation who was having a huge row with a furious woman. She was shouting abuse at the top of her lungs. “How dare you?! This is not what we signed up for! My girls are getting ill this way, IT’S FREEZING COLD! I will not stand for this! You either come up with decent clothes or we will never, EVER, work with you again! This is sick!!!” I don’t know who she was, but the girls who work for her should be proud to have someone like her fighting for their rights. I honestly hope that the woman made good on her threats too. Unless agencies stop accepting that their employees are made to work in tough weather conditions in unsuitable clothing, I fear the practice will continue for a long time to come.

The Grid Girl Comparison

Grid girls. A long time ago I made a conscious decision to avoid the topic of grid girls as much as possible on @girltalksracing. The reason is not that I’m oblivious to their presence, but because even the smallest comment about them usually evokes rather extreme commentary.

To give you an example, I was spending the weekend at a friend’s house once and she’s a motorbike fan so on Sunday morning we were watching a motorbike race. I can’t quite remember which one. MotoGP, I think. Anyhow, at some point I saw an umbrella girl that was rather minimally dressed. So I took a picture of the tv and in an attempt to be funny, I tweeted something along the lines of “fashion conundrum: can we still classify this outfit as ‘clothes’ or is this already in the ‘bikini’-range?” I didn’t realise until later that if you read that tweet in a particular way, it could be seen as having a critical undertone – although that was never my intention. Nonetheless, I’m not sure I deserved the barrage of ‘GRID GIRLS MUST STAY’, ‘KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OUR TRADITION’ and ‘YOU ******* FEMINIST’ that I received.

After all, never in all the time that I’ve been running @girltalksracing have I called for the tradition to be abolished.

If you were wondering why that line is standing on its own: that’s in case I’ve re-enraged some people by mentioning that old tweet. Maybe the counter-comment’ll stand out more that way. But where was I? Ah yes, the tradition of grid girls. I’ve never asked for the tradition to be abolished, because I know it’s tied in with the sport’s history and I can respect it if people wish to maintain the girls for that reason. That doesn’t mean, however, that I’ve never had any struggles with the grid girl phenomenon…

The grid girls often represent (Western) society’s underlying ideals of femininity: beautiful, professional hairdo, perfect make up, prominent cleavage, high heels, dressed provocatively, quiet, smiling, and decorative. These are ideals I’m not able to live up to, not even on the best of my days, let alone on a race track. My hair is usually one big wind-caused explosion, I’ve never worn make up in my life, I’ll never be more than an A-Cup, I’ve a problem with my feet so I wear flat shoes only, I’m usually dressed to withstand -45 degrees and snow (aka I look like an eskimo), I’m probably not quiet, I only smile when my favourite drivers do well, and on the whole I’m nowhere near decorative. And you know: that’s okay. If people think that makes me unattractive, they are free to think so.

But somehow there’s something about grid girls that gives a certain type of person the feeling they can suddenly say their thoughts out loud. Too often I’ve heard groups of bystanders comparing grid girls to each other, choosing the one that has the best ‘assets’. I’ve also heard unknown people compare me to grid girls. The low-point example of that is definitely the time at a VLN race that I was sitting on my own on a grandstand and a man some distance off suddenly yelled: “HEY! THE BOOBS OF THE GRID GIRL AT *TEAMNAMEICANTREMEMBER* ARE MUCH BIGGER THAN YOURS!” Yes, well. Thanks for demonstrating your comparison skills?

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I don’t mind if race track visitors look at grid girls. They choose to be grid girls and they receive a good salary to be eye candy. But at the same time I wish that everyone would remember that they represent social beauty ideals – and in the real world no woman, not even a grid girl, can be 100% perfect and ideal all the time. So please don’t pass judgment when you see discrepancies. It’s quite simply unkind.

And if saying that makes me a ‘******* feminist’, then: guilty as charged.