Moto GP And Its Wheely Brave Men

Once you've gotten over this post's terrible attempt at replicating a typical British tabloid's headline pun, you might be surprised to see that it is also about 2 wheeled machinery rather than my usual waffle around cars. But after watching the weekend's US Moto GP at Laguna Seca, I couldn't help but form a gigantic cloud of opinions around the men that hammer around international racing tracks on high speed motorcycles. I couldn't help but find myself on Autotrader late that night, scrolling through listings of Kawasaki Ninjas and Honda Fireblades in an attempt to one day experience something similar to what these riders, no, heroes, experience when they risk life and limb in order to win.

The US GP, a race barely half the length of what I'm used to watching Formula 1 drivers deal with, was fantastic. The weather was calm, bike reliability was good and there were few incidents, so from a distance the race might seem a little uneventful. But look a little closer and you'll see that not only was the race full of drama, but also heroic determination and some good old, hairy chested bravery. Funnily enough though, much of that bravery came from probably the least hairy chested, baby faced rider called Marc Marquez. You may have heard of him, he won a couple of junior level world championships before landing a ride in the 2013 Moto GP season, and he's something of a star.

Marquez is a rookie, yet in his maiden Moto GP season he has not only rewritten the record books by being the youngest pole sitter and race winner in history, but also by fearlessly racing wheel to wheel with the Championship's most successful rider, Valentino Rossi. You may have also heard of him, he's the guy who had to leave his native Italy in order to just go to the shops without being mobbed by hundreds of fanatical fans. Marquez seems unphased by Rossi's legend like status within the Motorcycling community, as he not only passed Rossi into Laguna Seca's daunting corkscrew, but he did it around the outside. In the football world this could be attributed to nutmegging a world class striker, or a sort of near KO against a boxing heavyweight. Marquez then raced on towards the race's pole sitter, Stefan Bradl, who is also a rookie to the premier motorcycling championship, and defiantly took the lead. His move into the final corner was slightly less dramatic, but equally as impressive as his rear wheel slid left to right under heavy braking. Having never ridden a proper motorcycle, let alone on slick tyres at racing speeds, I was overly impressed and in absolute awe at this youngster's talent.

But my amazement didn't end there. As the riders crossed the line and entered the pits, the coverage panned to Dani Pedrosa and double world champ, Jorge Lorenzo as they clambered off their bikes, expressing emotions of pain and relief. These men had both recently had huge offs resulting in injury, with Lorenzo for example having only just undergone surgery on his shoulder days before the race. Most people are bed ridden, or at least allowed a week or 2 off after undergoing what is a fairly severe surgery, but Lorenzo hopped onto his motorcycle and raced for over half an hour around what is a very dangerous and physical track. And he managed to do this with the world's very best, even finishing 6th, behind the other badly injured racer of Pedrosa. I'm so used to seeing top level footballers exacerbating injuries on the pitch, and even Formula 1 drivers mention fear of injury whilst they clamber into comparably safe cockpits. Yet Pedrosa and Lorenzo chose to ride despite risks of further injury, in order to keep their championship hopes alive. No matter what sport you love or how much you might hate motor racing, you have to have respect for men like these.

And finally, and probably most importantly, all of these riders, even the ones who rarely make TV coverage or the news headlines, are all heroes of sorts. Because they are racing the world's fastest motorcycles, around some of the world's most challenging circuits, in a sport where riders still die. The memory of Marco Simoncelli's death is still very fresh within the Moto GP community, with less than 2 years having passed since his fatal Malaysian GP accident. Just one year before that Shoya Tomizawa had died aged 19 in the Moto2 class, showing just how dangerous Motorcycle racing still is. Formula 1 racers are risking life and limb each time they step into the car, but there is no doubt risk is even higher when you're clinging onto a high powered, two wheeled bike with little more than a few millimetres of leather separating your skin from a high speed tarmac sanding. I have no shame in saying it, even as a long-term F1 fan who once hoped to race in cars. Moto GP riders, are wheely wheely brave.

Sorry..

Can TVR Save Us From The Computers?

We often talk about progress, about development and improvements in the car industry as new models are frequently released, each offering more technology and fewer CO2s than the last. But the mainstream car market seems so focused on computerising cars and simplifying driving, that it's almost forgotten about the real drivers amongst us. Either that or it doesn't care, focusing on the masses rather than the purists. 

Examples of this can be seen across the industry, with semi automatic gearboxes removing the need for that prehistoric stick poking through the chassis floor, electronic steering removing any real sense of feel from our hands, and engine noises playing through our speakers to 'add' to the sounds of ever duller engine notes. That's all fine in a car that's used to carry junior and his sister to school, but what about cars that are supposed to be used for driving, for fun? 

In comparison to their predecessors, this new breed of sports cars and hot hatches all have an element of involvement removed from them. Even though they might be quicker, cleaner and more efficient, I don't really want any of them.

What I want is to step back into time, to a time when cars were still in touch with their raw, highly engaging ancestors. Of course most car makers won't do that, with ever increasing global issues revolving around emissions and fuel. But I have found a solution, a way of experiencing that old school flavour and all involving drive modern cars have lost. The solution is, buy a TVR.

There are several reasons why you shouldn't buy one of course, but they're all rubbish and unimportant reasons. If you buy a TVR, a 5.0 litre V8 Griffith for example, you will not only experience immense neck snatching power, but also the brutal roar of the almighty lord himself each time you squeeze the throttle. That's pretty great value for money.

In the early 90s, semi automatics were a brand spanking new technology reserved only for cars like Nigel Mansell's Williams F1 racer. So TVR had only one option, to hand full responsibility of this violently powerful V8's gearing to you, the driver. With no computer to protect the gearbox, and no GPS to predict the gears for the road ahead (a feature enjoyed by today's Rolls Royce Wraith) as the driver, you are the brain, you are the tamer of this beast. Too heavy a right foot and you'll spin all 340 horses through the rear wheels, in turn sending you toward the nearest object and probably a fiery death. But what a way to go.

That's what I want, not the flaming death of course, but full control over my vehicle. I don't care how efficient and how precise today's electronics are, if I'm not in control of that vehicle, I'm not really driving it. I'm merely influencing it, as the computers still have the upper hand. It's for this reason cars like the Nissan GTR impress me, but don't excite me.

So as you can imagine I'm glad to report that TVR, the long troubled British car maker, are back. And the latest news suggests we should be greeted, or should I say violently exposed to, 2 new models, supposedly both keeping with the TVR philosophy we'd enjoyed before the company ceased production in 2006.

I really hope new owner Les Edgar honours this promise, ignoring pressure from our European neighbours to tame the horses. Forget the electronics Les, stick a proper old school gear lever in there and 500 horses to go with it. Be the savior of driving, the manufacturer for the purists. Make something scary. Pretty please.