Tensions have been pretty high. The typical banter about fruit beer, staff members lurking under grandstands and our varied wardrobes, not to mention politics (oh, don’t even go there!), has degenerated into childish name-calling, slap fights and, worst of all, extended crying fits.
And all because Formula 1 refuses to doll out its usual gruel of news, rumors, Silly Season speculation and Ferrari bashing of every other team.
Yes, yes, this happens sometimes. But in the past, we’ve always had a savior, a man who wouldn’t just leave us milling around like dogs waiting for table scraps.
Heck, in the past, we had two such saviors. But then Max Mosley sort of made it impossible for himself to stay on as the FIA’s president. So we were left with one tiny man, with some big ability to make news.
But now, even Bernie Ecclestone has forsaken us.
Where has Bernie been? Where have the shortcut comments been? He went to Russia, signed a grand prix — and the cheeky little (oh, and I emphasize that) bast (you get the idea) didn’t even praise Stalin or Lenin? He didn’t once pound his shoe on the table?
This is the type of behavior that leaves Negative Camber curled up in a corner, rocking back and forth and crying, “Why, why, why?”
Well, know we know.
Bernie’s publishing a memoir. The Times — behind its stupid paywall, information’s free, man! — of London has the news of the book, set to be titled: “No Angel — the Secret Life of Bernie Ecclestone.”
Heck, we even know why F1 has been doing those “Secret Life” pieces. It’s all a set-up!
Bernie, you may have read, just celebrated his 80th birthday. Red Bull apparently gave him a walker with a steering wheel and Luca di Montezemolo had some nice things to say, too.
But not us. All we wanted for your birthday, Bernie, was for you to say or do something crazy so there’d be some F1 news.
Now, we have to wait for the book.
So, if you were Bernie: Which crazy episode would you open your life’s story with, F1Bers?