“He thinks because he is the son of Prada (founder Miuccia Prada) this changes everything.”
Now just picture this scene.
Little Lorenzo Bertelli crashes his diamond studded Ford in Special (very special) Stage 10 of the Portuguese Rally. He bumps his expensive head which is inside the best helmet money and fragrance can buy, against the gold plated roll-cage fitted with love and care into the Ford by the best designer in the world…
In the specific spot where he decided to have an accident, there is no brain specialist, no Prada stretcher and no Mama!!
Meanwhile back in Italy Mama Miuccia (she is exactly my fighting size, if you only consider the year of birth which of course was the good year of 1949 – when most exceptional Baby-Boomers were born) Lorenzo’s mother is disturbed by the soft knock on the door of her luxurious office.
She looks up over the three handbag designers sitting on the floor around a small coffee table, a frown of irritation forming exactly where the plastic surgeon, who was shot after the operation, intended the frown-line to be.
“Entra!” she snaps, not a happy chappie for being disturbed while telling the three designers what she thought of them.
The huge hand-designed door opens slowly, soundlessly and as stylish as no other door can open.
A bleak looking women enters, shaking while holding a note out to Her Fragrancy, hands it over and steps back a few paces, falling over one of the floor sitters.
The next moment all hell breaks loose as mama jumps up and screams “avviare l’elicottero – ci accingiamo a Portogallo!” which may or may not mean “fire-up the chopper – we are going to Portugal!” and when the three low profile designers jumped up she shouted, “not you, you three stupid asses!”
Meanwhile boetie was walking in circles around his stuffed up Ford in Portugal counting of the milliseconds indicated on the solid gold Rolex strapped to his gym-grown-instant-tan left arm!
His helmet still on his head, as he was scared to take it off in case his head fell apart!
“Stop the stage – stop the stage now! My mama is on her way with her chopper to pick me up! I have been seriously injured as you cannot see!” he groans while pointing to the head kept together by the golden plated and ivory engraved helmet.
Meanwhile back at the cabbage patch at rally HQ, FIA WRC Commission president Carlos Barbosa, who heard about the incident and got a full report of the extent of Nada Prada’s bump against the roll cage – shakes his head and says “that may be how it works in Italy, but (the Portuguese “F” word) that’s how we do things here in Portugal!”
Mr Lorenzo Bertelli, in the meantime stated that his mother was worried, “of course she was worried!” and remarked on his medical condition that “I am no doctor, but I never felt anything like this before in my life. It was not normal!” He was probably referred to the pain caused by the belt between his legs when he crashed?
He stated that after 20 minutes of walking around he “nearly fell to the ground and really felt sick!” Forgetting that he has never before been on his legs for that long anyway.
“I asked Gio (the poor navigator who of course did not get any attention) to hit the emergency button!”
Can you imagine this balls up?
This is so typical of what we have in motorsport these days.
A bunch of rich and also super rich parents running around the motorsport scene – demanding special treatment for the wonder children, representing the chequebook brigade. Some doing well simply because they have equipment that can almost get a podium without a driver behind the steering.
Speaking of that Fernando Alonso stated this week that driving a F1 was now like piloting an aeroplane.
That I have been saying since long ago and the same goes for driving normal cars on our roads. There are so many gadgets controling everything, the moment yu break through the computer barrier – you die!
Do yourself a favour between Tweeting and texting while you drive on the highway, and watch a clip of a F1 race in the 70’s and then of one this year. There is simply no comparison between what drivers had to do then, and what they have to do now to keep the car on the road.
Real drivers are getting more and more frustrated and goodness knows I can relate to that.
The trend started quite a few years ago – but the controlling bodies worked with the rich to ensure that the money bags stood out between real drivers!
The N4 rules a few years back must be one of the best examples. You had to fit a Turbo intake-restrictor and then the rules allowed the money brigade without much talent to spend a million or so to have the car engineered back to perform as it did before the restrictor was fitted! Stupid bunch of asses!
Locally the restricted N4’s were forced in with the S2000 which then was simply no-contest and if you didn’t like it you had to leave it – or in other words, if you could not afford it, go play somewhere else.
Corruption in FIFA. corrupted government and officials, but look a bit further and you will be surprised at the conflicting interests held by some motorsport officials openly, and they seem to have become untouchable because the big players (all three of them) are sticking together. One hand washing the other while talent is simply dying away at the grass route level in all disciplines.
We may just as well start watching animations – they are better and more spectacular than the real thing anyway.