Michael Schumacher – a grand prick ……

I watched the British Grand Prix on Sunday on the telly.

It was OK I suppose – in a eeeeeeeeeooooooowwwwww – mad-Murray Walker, Mansell-Mansell sort of way.

It was OK I suppose – in a "Oh bugger, has that German twat won again?"

I mean, watching it on the telly, you can follow all the action can’t you? Slo-mo’s, fast Germans, prancing ponies, faster women… It’s all there for the telly punter to view from the comfort of his armchair. With dynamic camera angles from tiny cameras stuffed into every orifice of Jensen Button’s anatomy, interest was kept to a fairly high level – even though you just knew what the end result was going to be.

But what’s it like to actually be there – at Silverstone? What’s it like to be stuck up in the stands as red, blue, green and yellow blurs career past you at the speed of Superman with a severe case of the Lex Luthor’s desperately searching for a bog.….

"Who was that?"………
"Who’s winning?"………
"Where’s Jensen?"……..
"I hate that German twat"……..

I mean it strikes me that you see about 5% of the race for the ticket that’s cost the same as a small semi-detached house. My advice is to save your cash – if you want all the thrills of Grand Prix racing, but on a budget, get your Scalextric out and shove your face right next to the track. It’s just phenomenal – and you get the added ‘danger’ bonus of the possibility of the car spilling off the track and smacking you full on the snozz.

The most controversial part of the race was Jensen Button’s decision to have a St George’s flag on his helmet – and not a Union Jack. Shock horror. The interviewer demanded to know exactly why Jensen had dumped Jack for George.

"So Jensen, why no Union Jack?"

Jensen stammered, and blustered.

"Just tell him Jense, matey. Tell him you’re bleeding English. You’re English and you’ve nothing to be ashamed of" I screamed. "Tell him to go and ask David Coulthard exactly why he has a Saltire on his helmet and not a Union Jack"…..

Jensen mumbled something about supporting the football team. Fortunately, just then, racing’s own little and large strolled into view. Bernie ‘the hobbit’ Ecclestone and his stratospheric wife, Amazonia gave a short – and long interview. The guy from ITV asked all the usual questions. Yawn. Why don’t they ask some real questions?

"Well Bernie, what’s it like earning over 100 mill’ a year, you smug bastard?

"Amazonia, are you really attracted to this old and short, but very, very rich guy?

"Bernie, can you fix it for me to be a racing driver?"……

I’d like to be a racing driver – the money, the women, the Monaco apartment, the women, more women. Until I do get spotted doing a racing start from the high street traffic lights, I’ll just have to content myself with the Scalextric. Eeeeeeeeeoooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwww.