In the latest episode of World Superbike, Alvaro Bautista won 2 of the 3 races at the San Juan Villicum racetrack in Argentina.
Everyone’s agreed that tiny Spaniard Alvaro Bautista is a damn good rider and definitely worthy of winning another World Championship to go with the 125GP title he won in his youth. But when he’s disappearing at 4 tenths of a second per lap, and the timing screens show that he’s gaining all of that time in a sector with a kilometre-long straight, eyebrows will be raised.
Alvaro is small and light and goes down a straight faster than Uccio goes Cookie Monster on a plate of meatballs.
We don’t want to see Alvaro win a title by hanging on to the coat tails of his equally brilliant rivals Toprak and Johnny Rea around the twisty bits, then just casually blasting past them down a kilometre-long straight.
What the hell is it with kilometre-long straights anyway?
Look at the legendary racetracks of the world. The tracks that provide the best racing are ones like Assen and Philip Island. Do they have kilometre-long straights that let people relax and blast past their rivals? Of course not!
Assen’s front straight comes out of a fast chicane that has multiple racing lines and overtaking opportunities. Philip Island’s front straight is entered from a couple of fast turns and ends in one of the scariest corners in motorcycle racing. Even Aussie touring car drivers hold their breath going into turn 1 at Philip Island and they’re protected by about a ton and a half of steel cage.
Probably the only respectable racetrack with a kilometre-long straight is Italian MotoGP track Mugello. And that’s different because that straight ends with a terrifying hump that leaves riders flying out wide towards the stunning Tuscan scenery if they misjudge their braking by a millimetre. Riders of slower bikes can make up all the time they lost on the straight by being utter lunatics when the bike goes light in the braking zone.
So why the hell do modern, purpose-built racetracks all have kilometre-long straights?
Formula One. A.K.A. Snoremula One. A.K.A. Boremula One
Modern tracks are almost all designed to attract F1 racing.
Why the hell anyone would want to attract F1 is one of the great mysteries of the world. Sponsors and car manufacturers pay hundreds of millions to be associated with F1. That’s fair enough, they’re receiving a ton of publicity.
But the outrageous thing is that governments also pay huge money to have F1 racing on their territory.
It’s like a Sheriff of Nottingham tax, where governments rob the poor to pay the rich. In terms of paying out money that you’ll never get back, just for prestige that impresses literally nobody, F1 is as bad as the Olympics. And what is the real price of this?
Kilometre-long straights! (The only way that the tedious F1-mobiles can overtake each other).
Is it worth it? Hardly. After paying hundreds of millions to billionaires who not only don’t need the money but do need a severe kick in the nuts, all you get is a boring race where a bunch of achingly punchable millionaires drive round in a tedious procession.
Seriously, if you have to choose between Lewis Hamilton and his big F1 rival, whatever his name is, the only question is which one would you run over with a steam roller and which would you reverse over on the way back.
And that is why Alvaro Bautista is romping away with the World Superbike Championship.