Motorsport Quartets (No, Really)

If you were online at the right time a little while ago, you might have seen me post a tweet about a game of VLN quartets that I bought during a VLN-weekend at the Nürburgring. I was a bit disappointed about the buy, because when I got home it turned out that the box didn’t contain a quartets-game. It contained a top trumps-game. Apparently in the German language both have the same name and you’re supposed to tell by the description of the game rules with which game you’re actually dealing. Who knew!

 

Even though top trumps is pretty fun too (and I definitely recommend VLN top trumps; go buy your own pack if you ever get the chance!), I felt it was a shame that there was no such thing as VLN quartets. Or even motorsport quartets. As a joke, I posted on twitter that I might develop my own set of motorsport quartets-cards. Responses to the tweet were surprisingly positive and some of my friends even started pitching ideas to me. It became clear to me that this could be one of those crazy ideas that was worth pursuing for real. So I did.

 

It has taken me a while to get the job done, because I have a busy job and the little free time I have I often spend on race tracks. But after a month of using some bits and bobs of free time here and there, I can now finally present to you all: Girl Talks Racing’s Motorsport Quartets Game! I should warn you in advance, thoughr. The quartet themes may be a bit bonkers. Oh, and I made all the cards pink. I couldn’t let that opportunity pass me by. Obviously.

 



In an attempt to make the game a little more diverse, I tried to make sure that no team or driver appears in the game more than once. It meant that I sometimes had to make tough decisions. I would’ve loved to put Michela Cerruti in the quartet ‘Girl Power’, but since she and her lovely F3 car from way back when were already in the quartet ‘Best Race Cars Ever’ I wasn’t allowed to do it. *cue sad face* But after a lot of swearing and puzzling, in the end I managed to shove all my quartet nominees around in such a way that only two of them appear more than once. I unfortunately couldn’t get around putting Laurens Vanthoor in both ‘Bromance’ and ‘No Hair Anywhere’; and I couldn’t avoid putting Alex Toril in both ‘Flying High’ and ‘Spaniards Who Speak German’ either.

 

Apart from that, I think the game turned out to be quite varied. It includes references to, amongst others: formula 1, GP2, GP3, VLN, Blancpain GT (multiple series), WEC, GT Masters, formula 3, formula 4, 24-hour endurance racing, and some other things. If you want your own copy of the game, you can download it at the link below. The file includes a description of the rules too, so all you have to do is print the cards, cut them out, and start playing. Have fun!

 

Download Girl Talks Racing’s Quartets Game here: download link.

Sad Magic

I had a brilliant idea. After the 24 Hours of Le Mans were finished, I’d have an hour or two to kill before Formula 1 would finish too and I’d be able to watch back the recording, so why not spend that in-between time writing a blog? I’d even picked out a topic: the magic of the finish of a 24 hours-race. It’s a solid topic, one that a lot of people would recognise themselves in. How could I possibly go wrong with a topic like that? Looking back, maybe I shouldn’t have asked myself that rhetorical question. After all, when man can’t provide answers, fate often feels tempted to step in and tie up the loose ends.

 

The reason I wanted to write about 24h-finishes, is that they are my favourite moment of an around-the-clock event. It’s the moment the whole intense journey comes to an end and at last you get to see the competitors’ relief of having defied all technical woes, as well as their joy of finally reaping their rewards. For a few minutes, you get to see exactly what they had been working for all those months. It’s generally such a raw, honest moment that it easily brings tears to my eyes. Even if I’m not at the track, it makes me happy just to be able to share in that moment through watching the TV footage.

 

However, 2016 is a season that’s cruel to the magic of 24 hours-finishes. Some weeks ago the spirit of the Nürburgring 24-finish was killed by a discussion of did-he-or-did-he-not-hear-the-team-order? And today the 24 Hours of Le Mans saw a finish shrouded in a similar funereal atmosphere. It has left me with very little finish-line magic to enjoy and right now I’m not even sure where to steer this blog post. I’ve spent most of my in-between time so far staring at an empty sheet of paper – that’s not something that often happens to me.

 

Even recounting the cold hard facts of the finish is almost too painful to do.

 

Three minutes before the end of the race, a technological gremlin killed the engine of the Toyota #5, costing the Japanese crew an overall victory that it has been seeking for over thirty years. The Toyota then hobbled into the final lap in second place – a bittersweet consolation prize by all means but a consolation prize nonetheless – only to take so long to complete the final lap that an archaic (and dare I say, stupid?) rule decided that they were no longer worthy of being qualified in the final results. By the time the Toyota made it back to its garage, the crew had literally nothing left to show for their 24 hours of hard work, other than a ceremonial P45.

 

So far Toyota has made only the shortest of short statements via twitter: “Heartbroken.” As far as I’m concerned that one word will do. It sums up their entire day; their entire race; the entire set of complicated feelings currently experienced by everyone involved in their Le Mans effort. It’s a word that expresses a very deep sadness, so profound that it might seem impossible to ever rise from it again. But maybe, just maybe, if we look that sadness directly in the eye, then maybe we might find some deep dark 24h-finish magic hiding at its core. After all, can a heartbreak like this ever occur without an equally profound love for the sport having preceded it? And if not, shouldn’t such love and dedication be celebrated, rather than mourned?

 

It’s not much to hold onto, but it might just be enough to save this finish

Going Out With Eeriness

I love the 24 Hours of the Nürburgring. It has the same kind of friendly atmosphere you can find at a VLN event, only bigger. Much bigger. For me personally, this friendly atmosphere culminates at the end of the race when the fans give a big show of respect to the race winner, regardless of which driver/car/team/brand won or who the fans supported during the race. Everybody always stands up for the winner, everybody always claps, and everybody always cheers. Usually there are even some people with fireworks to lighten up the celebration some more.

 

This year, however, the finish was vastly different from what I’m used to. I doubt you would’ve noticed it if you watched the race on TV; but for those who were there, it was impossible to ignore. The friendly atmosphere was missing and, frankly, I’m not even sure if there was much respect. The whole affair felt rather cold and it has left me feeling more than a little bit confused.

 

At first, the final stage of the race seemed promising. The audience was on the edge of its seat, watching the fight between HTP’s Christian Hohenadel, slowed down considerably by a fuel shortage, and Black Falcon’s lightning-quick Maro Engel. When a backmarker held Engel up for a bit, there were disappointed shouts all around the grandstands. Nobody wanted the fight to end like that! Luckily, Engel soon closed the gap again and, separated by mere tenths, he and Hohenadel shot into the final lap. Thousands of voices cheered them on as they passed through the Yokohama for the last time. Only a handful of corners later, Hohenadel made a tiny error and left open the tiniest hint of a gap. Engel dived into the crack of space and… ran into Hohenadel, hard. The clash pushed Hohenadel outward and almost into the gravel. Engel shot passed, claimed P1, and ultimately victory.

 

On the grandstand, the clash was met with a loud “oh!”. After that, silence fell. It felt eerie to me. Silence is not what you expect on a race track that’s still active. Around me people were looking at each other, confused. At length some muttering arose around me. “Was that on purpose?” “Do you think he meant this to happen?” “Should the stewards penalise him?” The footage on the video screen of furious-looking HTP personnel didn’t help the matter much. It probably made it worse. I could clearly hear some people behind me claiming that Black Falcon was “unworthy of the victory if they think this is acceptable racing. LOSERS!”

 

I didn’t know what to think. And to be honest, I still don’t. I’ve known Engel for years. He’s kind as a person and professional as a driver. He’s also a fair racer. Would he crash into Hohenadel on purpose? No. Never. But his overtake was very aggressive, wasn’t it? Yes. Maybe even too aggressive? Possibly. One could even argue that it was unnecessary for him to take so much risk at that particular moment, since he was obviously faster and probably would’ve found a far safer way to pass Hohenadel in the remaining 22 (!) kilometers of the track. So where does that train of thinking lead me?  Were the stewards right to investigate? Were they right not to hand out a penalty? Was Engel simply too eager? Or was he wrong to dive into that almost-gap?

 

I don’t know. I really don’t.

 

I only know that this year’s 24 Hours of the Nürburgring-finish was the strangest finish I’ve ever seen at the event. When Engel crossed the finish line, the entire audience remained in its seat. I tried to stand up, but I got weird looks so I quickly sat down again. Nobody clapped enthusiastically. Some people didn’t even clap at all. Engel did a celebration donut and even that only resulted in a meagre applause and one or two cheers. Compared to previous years, it was a funeral. There were no fireworks, no party atmosphere, just a sense of ‘that’s it then, let’s go home’. People left the grandstands in a downbeat mood. The contrast with the happiness of the Black Falcon crew on the video screen was almost painful.

 

In the end I’ve decided I’m going to be happy for Engel and his comrades. Few teams work as hard towards their successes as Black Falcon does, so every member of their crew has a right to be proud. I’ve duly extended my congratulations to them and I meant every word I said. However, I’ll never forget that eerie finish. Something about it just felt wrong. A part of me is hoping that Engel, Christodoulou, Schneider, and Haupt’ll win again in 2017, so we can do this whole miserable business over. I’m sure Black Falcon won’t mind cooperating.