5/14/2016 0 Comments Bruise PristineWe all know the best way to get things done in racing: go as fast as you can without rushing, because that's when the problems happen. Better to get things done at your own pace so you don't make any mistakes which you'll pay for later.
Obviously that doesn't include races, but they're another form of life altogether. So I've only got myself to blame for the serious bruising on my foot. I knew we had to change the backdrop for the press conference between events, and GP2 was yesterday afternoon while GP3 was this morning, but for one reason or another no one did it when we had time to spare, and I had to rush it through this morning. The backdrop itself was okay - it fell on my head a couple of times, but that generally happens anyway - but when I put the large strips of it onto the desk to get ready to roll together they knocked the desk name plate onto my foot. A long, heavy, sharp T bar of steel. With the sharp edge down. Onto my toes. I saw stars. I thought I was going to throw up. I couldn't hear anyone talking to me because of the white noise in my head. And we still had to get it changed with the drivers heading to hospitality from their trucks. With me due to host the press conference. I would do well to remember their names with my foot throbbing, let alone what happened in the session (I didn't: I wrote their names on paper, along with some questions). I don't remember it, but apparently it happened because there are some quotes on the website. And then we had to change it again for the race press conferences. So not an ideal start to the day. Luckily we had a good way to ease back into life: after a hiatus of 3 years we're going back to doing the teammate interviews for the Insider. We've had a number of requests, and it's great because they're both popular and really fun to do. So I hobbled over to PREMA with Pauline to sit down with Pierre Gasly and Antonio Giovinazzi, and it's really clear that they've built a strong relationship already over the off-season. Pierre laughed at me for wearing sunglasses in the truck (they're prescription: I'm getting old) before jumping straight into it, relishing the chance to make fun of his new teammate, who soon worked out what was happening and joined in with abandon. They have a photographer working with them, and he was laughing away while he snapped us all gesticulating wildly as we laughed about Pierre's obsession with pizza and the pair's view on subjects like clothes, music, their philosophy of racing and, inevitably, girls. You can look forward to reading it soon, and make sure to sign up for the Insider magazine if you haven't already to get a copy. It was a shame to leave in the end, as the company was tremendous and their truck was really comfortable: it reminded me of why it can sometimes be harder to write a blog now than it used to, as the comfort levels in the teams' trucks are way higher than it used to be, so the drivers hardly leave to come to hospitality now! One person getting used to a higher level of comfort is Luca Ghiotto, the eminently popular Italian who steps up after a fantastic year in GP3 to show what he can do on a bigger stage. Not that he's taking anything for granted: "I'm so lucky to be with Trident," he told me as we headed over to the Fanzone for the usual video game contest, "as they were really happy with me last year, and offered me a deal to be here. I really owe them a lot, and it's great that we're all friends too." Top ten in his first qualy won't have harmed that, either. Luckily there was no one from the team to see him at work in the game zone, because it didn't go well for him. "What was that about?" I laughed afterwards as we discussed his crashed as we walked over to the collected fans. "I know, but it's not my fault, the car was crap!" "Typical driver, always blaming the car." "No, it was the program: I'm blaming the internet!" Jimmy Eriksson came over to gloat (he came third), but his demeanour sometimes doesn't tell the story he might want it to. "Did you enjoy that Jimmy?" "Yeah, it was great!" "Maybe you should tell your face!" I laughed. "I tell you in every press conference to smile more!" "I'm just Swedish: we're all like this!" "Not all of you! Maybe you need to be like Nobu, and learn to chill out..." The Japanese driver wandered serenely past to take another photo with some fans, his new buzzcut in ample evidence. "What's the haircut about?" I asked in the minibus back to the paddock, "trying to show a new serious side?" "Yes," he stated inscrutibly, "and also for racing: I save some weight, I go faster." I wasn't sure if he was being serious or not until the edges of his mouth tipped up slightly, cracking everyone up. It was soon time for the race, and it was great to be able to dump all the tension and get down to the reason we were all there: great, that is, until all the screens blacked out on the first lap of the race, leaving me to hang off the side of the pitwall shelter to try and see the screen on top of the stands opposite, just to be able to write what was happening. Luckily (for us, anyway) it coincided with Luca running off and bringing out the safety car, and some fast work by the Force India mechanics got the screens back up before the race went live again. After the race I saw Marvin Kirchhöfer walking back to the paddock with his trainer: he pitted for a new nose after the incident, so I asked him if he'd caused it. "No!" he roared, wounded at the suggestion, "they went off in front of me, and their debris damaged my car!" The other driver I saw on the way back was Sergey Sirotkin, waiting for his team to return after he spun out of the race from third. I asked if there was a reason for his spin and he moaned "yes, it's because I'm the biggest idiot in the world", looking so depressed that I almost hugged him. There's plenty of other opportunities to come, I stammered, but he wasn't having any of it: "No, it's unacceptable, I just can't do it" before slumping off to his truck. Suddenly my foot didn't feel quite so bad. We got to work writing up all the reports (and the less said about the flag marshal's effect on the end of the race the better), and I almost thought about going for a run, just to see if the foot was okay, when there was a sudden downpour. Which was clearly a sign: my foot was still hurting, the weather wasn't playing ball, so it was almost as though it was fate. So, I thought, let's have a go at putting together a blog, and see if there was anything to talk about today. I'll tell you when I know if there was.
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