Category: Formula 3

The Worst Tragedy in the History of Motorsport

He’s a 20-year-old race car driver from Spain. A couple of seasons ago he was a high-flyer in European Formula 3 and last year he made name for himself by claiming P2 in a soaking wet Porsche Carrera Cup Deutschland race in which a submarine would’ve been a far more useful mode of transport than the four-wheeled vehicle he was stuck driving. In 2016, Alex is honing his skills in the VLN Nordschleife championship. He’s racing a Porsche R-Cup in the SP7-class and has already taken five wins, six podiums and a handful of pole-positions.

However, Alex’s results aren’t what I want to write about today. Don’t get me wrong, they’re important. Good results like that are what keep a race car driver in business; but they aren’t what make a race car driver cool. And believe me, Alex Toril is cool. Unlike many of his racing colleagues, Alex has got Style – with a capital S. He’s incredibly aware of what he’s wearing and when it comes to his racing gear, he’ll only accept the absolute best. He demands the right size, the right material and, above all, the right colour. This is why a few months ago he decided to swap his old, grey (BORING!) racing gloves for a pair of brand-new, absolutely fabulous pink ones.

On VLN8-Saturday, Alex allowed me a personal Meet & Greet with his pink gloves. (If you looked at your twitter timeline that day, you may have noticed the almost fifty pictures I uploaded of them.) Upon seeing them in real life, I was almost overawed by their sheer awesomeness. Still, despite that I couldn’t help noticing one tragic problem: Alex’s orange helmet didn’t match their radiant colour, not even in the slightest. When I asked Alex about this, it turned out that his superior sense of Style had already noticed the issue ages ago: “Yeah, I know. I really need a pink helmet to match them, but a new helmet costs 2.500 euros! And pink spray paint is another 500. That’s a lot of money.”

It is, indeed. Most people don’t just have 3.000 euros lying around. I sure don’t and neither do any of my friends – and that’s nothing short of tragic. Go figure. At last there is a driver with the superior brain capacity to recognise the importance of the colour pink for the bettering of his racing career, and then he can’t get the helmet he wishes to have because of A LACK OF MONEY. It’s one thing to not have a race seat due to a lack of money, but missing out on a pink helmet due to financial troubles is just cruel and UTTERLY UNACCEPTABLE. It’s the worst piece of motorsport injustice I’ve ever seen.

Leaving Alex to suffer through this dreadful fate on his own would be inhuman. That is why we need to help him – all of us, together. I already looked into starting a crowdfunding campaign, but since I live life without a credit card that proved a bit complicated. So I’ve come up with an alternative way to help him: we need to find him a personal helmet sponsor. I suggest that next Monday everybody goes to ask his/her employer if they have the financial ability to give Alex the 3000 euros he needs to buy himself his dream helmet. (Please note that in return Alex’ll have to put the sponsoring company’s name on his helmet, but even if you work for a potentially ego-painful company like OB or Always: please don’t let that deter you from asking your bosses for help! Sacrifices must be made for great purposes and no one knows that better than Alex.)

So please, my dear readers, take action.

Do it for motorsport. Do it for justice. But, above all, do it for Alex.

(And maybe also do it a little bit for me.)

Footnote: please note that most of the content of this blog has been blown up, overdone, overdrawn, and utterly exaggerated. The entire text is to be taken with a healthy pinch of salt. 😉

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.

How to Show Affection in Motorsport

I don’t like bullies. This is partially because of principles, but also largely because I was bullied myself as a child, by a boy at my primary school. He taught me how to hate recess. Every day he would come after me, kick me, hit me, spit on me or at one point even push me off a climbing frame. I tried to tell people of authority. Of course I did. But the teachers said they couldn’t do anything until they actually saw the boy bullying me, which they never did because he wasn’t so stupid as to do anything when school staff was around. My mother also laughed at my complaints. She said the boy was probably just teasing me because he ‘liked’ me. In the end the bullying went on for a year, until the boy moved schools, and in all that time nobody ever came to my aid.

I’ve never had cause to connect my experiences with bullying to motorsport. Of course motorsport has always encased political tricks, intimidation and mind games, but somehow I’ve never really classed those as ‘bullying’. It’s not that I approve of any of those behaviours. It’s more that that self-centered way of dealing with the world seems to be so interconnected with professional sports that it has transcended common bullying and become a culture, an athlete’s way of life. All behaviour spawned by this culture serves to help achieve a goal; the goal of winning. For example, a driver who is verbally intimidating an opponent is doing so in the hope that his words will result in a beneficial mistake on-track. In that sense, the behaviour isn’t even personal. It’s just a means to a selfish end.

When I think of ‘bullying’, however, I imagine a type of behaviour that’s not aimed at achieving a specific goal, but that stems from internal frustration and is taken out on another person for the express purpose of putting him/her down and causing pain; all to make the bully feel better about him/herself. As far as I’m able to tell, such bullying is relatively rare in motorsport, even if I did hear rumours last year about Formula 3’s Maxi Günther being bullied out of Mücke by his teammates. The story was never fleshed out though and no official action was ever taken. Who knows, maybe that ruined some of the series’ karma.

Off-track driver behaviour has been questionable in formula 3 this season. In the past weeks there were two major incidents that have given me cause to genuinely worry. The first one happened in Hungary, when Nikita Mazepin thought it was justified to rough up Callum Ilott for blocking him in free practice. Mazepin was called to the stewards and handed a whopping one-race suspension. Various people, myself included, felt the punishment was too light. A three-race ban for the whole weekend would’ve sent a far stronger signal about where the uncrossable line between good and simply unacceptable lies. Now, however, it feels like Mazepin got a very-nearly-free pass out of trouble. And I can’t help but wonder: is that a possible reason we saw a second incident at the Norisring?

In the third Norisring race, Mücke-drivers Beckmann and Jensen crashed into each other, both retiring as a result of the clash. During live coverage, Jensen (21) was shown hanging over Beckmann’s cockpit to have a good shout at his 16-year-old teammate. Later on, the duo was shown standing side by side behind the barriers, with Jensen shouting some more at Beckmann and deliberately invading his personal space to make him uncomfortable. If that wasn’t enough, the last few seconds of the highlights reel showed a shot of Jensen in which it very much seems like he’s grabbing Beckmann by the hair.

Click here to view.

I’m not sure what to make of the footage. As far as I know, Beckmann didn’t file any assault charges and the stewards didn’t get involved either, even though they had an obvious reason to do so, especially given the precedent of the Mazepin incident. It would’ve been a fantastic opportunity for them to make up for the mediocre way in which they handled that indiscretion. But all there was after Norisring, was silence. Utter silence. And no clarity.

Ever since I’ve often found myself thinking of my school bully. I’ll never forget how lonely I felt when I realised no one of authority was going to help me. I can imagine that Ilott and Beckmann (if the scene pictured above is indeed what it looks like) have also become familiar with the feeling. After the stewards’ questionable responses to their respective incidents, who can they turn to now for protection? In fact, who can anyone in formula 3 turn to for protection if something like this were to happen again? And why wouldn’t it happen again, if the punishment is practically non-existent? I’ve always believed that, despite the culture of mind games and intimidation, sportsmanlike behaviour existed in motorsport and that it was championed by those in charge. But maybe I was wrong and naive. Or maybe sportsmanlike behaviour has started to die off. Or perhaps this is simply how Formula 3-drivers show they ‘like’ each other. Don’t people say boys will always be boys?

Sorry, Max. I Was Wrong!

Written in honour of Max Verstappen’s first F1 victory.

I’ve known of the existence of Max Verstappen for a very long time. When I first started watching formula 1, internet was only available via dial-up modem and very expensive. So instead of allowing me access to our costly home connection, every two weeks my father would use his office network to print out the latest articles of the only formula 1-website he knew of. The first batch of papers he ever handed me was topped by a piece titled “Verstappen becomes father for the first time”. It was illustrated with a photo of Jos, his then-wife, and baby Max Emilian, born only a few hours earlier.

As the years passed, toddler Max once made the news for breaking his wrist while playing. A few years later, word started coming out of the go-kart world that a now teenaged Max was getting good results and was building a fierce rivalry with fellow Dutchman Nyck de Vries. At the time there were many questions being asked about which of the two had the most talent. For a long time the debate went in favour of De Vries, especially when he was the first to make the switch to cars. Many at the time wondered if Max, when he too switched to cars, would still be able to catch up with the by then much more experienced De Vries.

Verstappen made his move from go-karts to cars a year later, in the winter of 2013-2014. He competed in the Florida Winter Series and then tested some Formula Renault 2.0 cars. Like most, I expected Max to sign up for one of the 2.0 series – it’s a good starting point for rookies – but instead he was announced as a Formula 3-racer for Van Amersfoort Racing. When I heard, I was certain Frits van Amersfoort had lost his mind. Who puts a practically inexperienced boy in heavy machinery like that?!

My opinion about VAR’s Verstappen project didn’t improve much upon seeing it live for the first time. When I stumbled into the Formula 3-paddock at the Hockenheimring in May 2014, it didn’t prove difficult to spot the VAR tent. In fact, it was almost impossible to miss it. It was the only tent with fifteen spectators in front of it, all dressed in orange, with Jos Verstappen-caps and Dutch flags. Grumbling I walked past the canopy. I refused to be in awe of a driver simply because of his last name. As far as I was concerned, Max would have to prove himself first.

During the first free practice, he failed to do that. I was watching from the inside of the Motodrome, from where I had a good view of how strangely Max was handling the Sachskurve. He literally took a new line every lap. So, I quickly pegged him down as a nutter. This was an opinion I stuck with even after Max had finally found his preferred line and, over the course of the weekend, began bringing his lap times down drastically. The races on Saturday and Sunday only made things worse. In the first race Max retired, in the second he broke down on his way to the grid and very clumsily parked his car at the Spitskehre, and in the third one… okay, fine, he won that one. But hey, that was probably just dumb luck. After that first weekend in Hockenheim, I saw absolutely no reason to hype up ‘this Verstappen boy’. On the way home, I even remember stating: “The kid still has an awful lot to learn and I doubt he’ll ever be as good as his father was. If he wants to prove me wrong, he’s going to have to step up his game BIG TIME.”

Well, he did.