Sunday Night Fever

Polesitter Lorenzo Jorge looked relaxed on the starting grid.

I have a calendar on my wall. It's the dullest, least inspiring calendar ever produced – even including the Foggy Petronas ones. Usually calendars display photos of amazing locations or acts of brilliance to motivate and inspire you through your dreary life. Not this one. This one has twelve different photos that are all identical - almost as if they're monotonous snapshots from Pedrosa's lacklustre imagination. Every month, with its saturation lacking image, is as bad as the last. This folks is the 2007 calendar, and it won't go away.

However qualification for the opening 2008 MotoGP race had rocked the calendar. Rookie, and all-round gold-plated figure of hatred, Jorge Lorenzo was brilliantly on pole. British hope James Toseland did the impossible and qualified second giving the tea-supping losers in the UK finally a rider they had hope of getting a rostrum with…instead of hoping their rider wouldn't just be an embarrassment (see: James Ellison). Throughout the grid in fact the newboys, with their fresh faces and off-center haircuts, were really giving the impression they weren't (unlike Rossi's tax advisor) just making the numbers up.



Suddenly my 2007 calendar wasn't looking so smug. It was rattling precariously on the wall looking far from secure…just like the curtain rail I'd put up without using wall-plugs.

But it was when the lights turned to green that the action really started. With no measurable weight and a face like a grapefruit Dani Pedrosa, on the much hated 2008 HRC machine, hit front. He must have been smiling like pleasured crazy man. The boring Spaniard, not wanting to be in any form of interesting action, fled leaving the excitement behind.
And what excitement! Toseland, Lorenzo, Rossi, Stoner and, predictably to a lesser extent, Edwards decided the best way to catch Thumbelina would be to beat the shit out of each other.

Take that 2007 calendar! In a moment of madness I cleanly pulled the once smug and well-anchored schedule of misery from the wall, hurling it into the 'green bin'*. Who's laughing now?

Eventually, after several interesting laps, the running order sorted itself out. The Tech 3 boys, with their 1997 R6 engine, were no match for the factory bikes and drifted back. This left Pedrosa still up front but with Lorenzo leading Rossi and Stoner gaining ground behind.
The furry Italian Rossi knows 2008 is a 'make or break' year. He either breaks his losing duck or is made to look an idiot for sulking until he got his Bridgestone tyres. With this on his hedge-trimmed haircut he set about catching and passing King Midas Lorenzo and then Pedrosa to take the lead.

Then the inevitable happened. We hit one-third (or one-turd) distance and Stoner made his way comfortably to the front. From that point he headed away and would never be caught again.
Knowing my fait I sullenly glanced up at the wall. And there it was. Sitting proud and permanent was the 2007 calendar. If it could have laughed at me it would have. But it was far too dull to even contemplate cracking a semi-smile. Instead it just mocked me with its putrid presence.

So was that it? Was that the end? Thankfully not!

First of all step forward new boy Lorenzo. Not content with being able to cry golden tears the likeable Spaniard (and by likeable I mean totally hateable) skilfully passed his arch-rival Pedrosa before sticking a golden finger up his team-mate's arse and barging past loser Rossi.
And it didn't stop there. Undeterred that his champion oversized cranium might cause excess drag King Midas Lorenzo set about chasing the 2008 champ Stoner upfront. Although it was a fruitless task he did at least keep the cocky convict working hard all race.

By which point Rossi was fading. Afterwards the Italian said he was unsure of the reason of his demise…but it may have been he didn't now know who or what to blame.
It took a wimpy Pedrosa about 500 laps to pass a coasting Rossi mainly thanks to the Spaniard's dire braking. Eventually though, after more failed attempts at success than Team Manager Foggy, Pedrosa played the odds with his 50kph faster bike and managed to girlishly take the place from the yellow taxpayer. The last podium slot would be his reward.

But with time running out who else could duff up the fading Rossi? Andrea Dovizioso – that's who!
Dozy's come from the 250's. But no one really knows him because Lorenzo has taken all the limelight and headspace.
Luckily he was on form today and took the fight to Rossi. The final few laps saw the pairing aggressively fighting so close that you could hear Uccio cry. Deservedly though it was the new boy with a girl's name, Dozi, who took the fourth slot after a brilliant duel.
Following home the pairing alarmingly close was the excellent on track, terrible in a lift rider James Toseland. He's British too.

So, judging from that display, who should panic then? Sadly the old boys. They were the real losers with the bottom half of the grid looking very dated and World Superbike like.

Possibly the farmhand Hayden and horsefaced Melandri were the biggest race losers. Not only did the pairing have seriously lacklustre races they also had the fun of seeing their respective partners excel.

So in the end the 2007 calendar stayed on my wall. But its position remains vulnerable. Maybe the new boys can spice up the racing from its current status as bland as Ikea's food catalogue? Hope so...MGPN.

* Everyone should do their little bit to save the planet…whilst those bastards in Qatar do their big bit to ruin it.