Jesus! Bleddy Hell! Pffttttt ! What a freakin race!
Well, I am still in shock! Speechless still some 24 hours later in what was one of the greatest races I have ever seen in my 30 years of watching this crazy thing we call stock car racing. James Rygor (783) pulled off one of the greatest shocks in one of the greatest finishes in the greatest World Final of all. Stories to tell are infinite in resource. It really was that good.
BEFORE THE GREEN
Smeatharpe had had a little spruce up. Tarmac placed down, plenty of new bits were the order of the day.
Nice touches like the signs, including a tidy up of the Steve Newman sign, and a splattering of gold over the Smeatharpe writing which adorns the back straight. On arrival, you were in no doubt that it was world final day. From the hoards which had camped on the Friday night, to those revellers into the wee smalls of Sunday wearing just their wee smalls of Saturday, the place was well organised, and slickly presented as a world final venue. Being primarily a F2 promoter at heart, and fans of this formula first and foremost, the wait of 10 years has certainly made the track look a lot better. Bear in mind I went there at August Bank Holiday, and I could notice the difference. However, those who attended the previous week for the Banger "World" noticed differences too. A vast amount of cars in the pits, and I am sorry if didn't get round to see you all. Now for the first time, my car had entered the inner sanctum of the raceway, as it was calendar day. I'll tell the full story of that later in the week, some great stories on that front.
A lovely programme, B5 format with 48 pages, 45 pages worth reading as some numpty wrote something about bridesmaids. From our position behind race control I got to meet plenty of the great and good, and went to meet the runners and riders, mostly to get a few calendars signed.When asked for who I thought would win, I stuck with my party line that predictions are for mugs, as the F2 world is not a predictable beast anymore. From the bit of practice I saw, there was a few surprises. There was a flashback to 1992, when front row starter Bill Batten (167) withdrew due to politics and the wet weather. This time, Chris Bradbury (886) withdrew due to health reasons. Despite a northern pep talk from sympathetic nurse, Janis Wagner, that it was only "man flu" and he should get over it on Friday morning, Bradders looked like death slightly defrosted. Anyone in any doubt, he was not his usual confident self. To these eyes if it was a school day, then a day off in bed would have been the cry. A really difficult decision seeing as he was a slight favourite for the title. So after the consolation which saw probably the favourites progress, and a crash test moment for Richie "Danny Dyer" Mead (596) who had a mother of all rolls. Also including a very lucky Neil Hooper (676) who sneaked in thanks a rapidly deflating tyre. Such was the scramble for the last place, that the last place was the subject of the mother of all pile ups....
So after a support heat or two, and some Saloonacy, it was go time. All the entrants received the plaudits, boos and commerative awards. The excellent choice of some epic music to build up the atmosphere, which I'm reliably informed is "Wake of the Martyrs" from Succession Studios. Set up the atmosphere perfectly. The fireworks looking great under, a purple sky! Never knew Crispen and Andrew ordered that. Must have had a word with the big man upstairs, although I think he lives in Newton Abbot and races under 167!
A lovely programme, B5 format with 48 pages, 45 pages worth reading as some numpty wrote something about bridesmaids. From our position behind race control I got to meet plenty of the great and good, and went to meet the runners and riders, mostly to get a few calendars signed.When asked for who I thought would win, I stuck with my party line that predictions are for mugs, as the F2 world is not a predictable beast anymore. From the bit of practice I saw, there was a few surprises. There was a flashback to 1992, when front row starter Bill Batten (167) withdrew due to politics and the wet weather. This time, Chris Bradbury (886) withdrew due to health reasons. Despite a northern pep talk from sympathetic nurse, Janis Wagner, that it was only "man flu" and he should get over it on Friday morning, Bradders looked like death slightly defrosted. Anyone in any doubt, he was not his usual confident self. To these eyes if it was a school day, then a day off in bed would have been the cry. A really difficult decision seeing as he was a slight favourite for the title. So after the consolation which saw probably the favourites progress, and a crash test moment for Richie "Danny Dyer" Mead (596) who had a mother of all rolls. Also including a very lucky Neil Hooper (676) who sneaked in thanks a rapidly deflating tyre. Such was the scramble for the last place, that the last place was the subject of the mother of all pile ups....
So after a support heat or two, and some Saloonacy, it was go time. All the entrants received the plaudits, boos and commerative awards. The excellent choice of some epic music to build up the atmosphere, which I'm reliably informed is "Wake of the Martyrs" from Succession Studios. Set up the atmosphere perfectly. The fireworks looking great under, a purple sky! Never knew Crispen and Andrew ordered that. Must have had a word with the big man upstairs, although I think he lives in Newton Abbot and races under 167!
Ste Linld last grid wal was sp lt by a bad raid mic which ke cut ng out. 01 Ba Gold, 64en Chris Royne from Cent Land. Chris Rowe From Muff some of the highlights of the Collier-esque performance.
GENTLEMEN, START YOUR ENGINES.....
2 warm up laps lead them away, and that first corner carnage just didn't happen this time. Speak got away and Moodie got a terrible start. However, after the yellow flags which brought about by the loss of Ryan McCrory's (NI944) wheel and collection of Paul Butcher (189), George Macmillan (100) Moodie was in third, with the Big Bad Dave Polley (38) behind him.
As a tussle for second took place, this allowed Speak to move away from the pack and got a good couple of lengths clear. However, as the tight track played to the back markers, Speak was finding it tough to negotiate as a rapidly catching Moodie was coming to catch the 218 machine. As the raced neared halfway, Moodie swooped and rode the 218 car to the fence.
As he pulled clear, he came across backmarker Mark Dews (178). As they entered the pit bend, Moodie quarter spun, and this allowed the Speak machine to catch, latch, and dispatch, a bit. Moodie got back and obliterated his and Speak's chances. In my opinion, Moodie had enough speed to take the World Final win, but the decision to commit racing suicide was a bit fool hardy. He would have clear if it wasn't for Dews, and Speak didn't have the same speed. In the carnage that followed Polley spun and Chris Kincaid (NI312) ended up perched on the tyre. Yellows. The first to offer the handshake was Speak, who seemed disappointed but on the whole, the public handshake between the 2 was applauded by all.
Half the race done, and 2 of the favourites gone. George Macmillan (100) led the restart from Polley, Jack Aldridge (921), Chris Burgoyne (647), Neil Hooper (676), Chris Mikulla (522) and numerous others. I said that at the point, anyone of the Top 10 who restarted could win it. How right I was. Macmillan got away, and Aldridge started to reel him in as the lap boards came about. Geomac looked to be struggling with backmarkers who were having there own battles. As Macmillan reached the scrapping backmarkers of Brennan and Dutchman Jelle Kurjstens (H19), the Dutchman spun on the exit of turn 4 in front of the hapless Scot. There was no time to mourn, as Jack Aldridge took over the lead of the World Final, only to come adrift down the back straight, which let Burgoyne through and into the lead, persued by Hooper. As the cars entered the last bend, Hooper went for it, one chance for glory, and in the mad dash for the line, up, out of virtually nowhere came James Rygor (783) to take the victory and the title, on the line, by an absolutely breadth of a rizla. Commentator Steve Linfield summed it up perfectly,
"Unbelievable stuff, you couldn't have made it up"
For me it was one of shock. Of genuine disappointment for George Macmillan, it was a genuine noooo..... Watching it with both uncles. Mike shouted Burgoyne!!! Neil shouted Hoooooper, and there was me at the end RYYYYYYYYYYYGOOOOR! James RYGORRRR!! Go on Rygor the Tiger!
To the fairweather fan of F2, it was very much James who? Rygor started the year as Superstar and had been a floater between the blue and red grades. His car is the Chris Bradbury self build that was surplus when he traded "up" to the RCE. But James has been very much one of the most improved drivers from the Westcountry, especially away from home.
A somewhat shocked Rygor went off for the post race scruitineering, and everyone was still coming to terms with result. A distraught George Macmillan looked close to tears, he could feel, taste and smell the gold. The touch let him down, but the well wishers heartened him. The heavily pregnant Liz Polley (nee Macmillan) avoided the race in total, and a good job too, as I don't think the St John's could have delivered a baby on the lap of honour!
Returning back to the pits to the champions, dad Mark was grinning like a "dog with two dicks" was his response to how he felt, smiling away. Ex F2 driver Jim Issacs told him to stop smiling and get the beers in. Grandad Barry visibly shaking as he spoke to me, as his congratulatory drink was shaking in his hands. Himself a former racer and competitor at the Wembley world final in 1974, it was pleasing to see the broad smile of pride on his face.
James' better half Tia (February, Calendar fans) was gutted to have missed it.
Chris Mikulla (522) was over the moon with his fourth place, and Chris Burgyone was looking on of what might have been, but very much looking forward to next year, the home of his world victory
THE INFAMOUS POINTS OF ORDER
Congratulations to the Mystic Linfields. I remember having a conversation with Steve at the start of the season who said to me it was likely that the Westcountry hopes would also include Rygor, and of course Matt predicted "a brutal race with a surprise winner" on this site only last week. Spot on.
A happy Jo Polley-Goldin took her medicinal gin for her nerves courtesy of Tarquin, provided by the blog courtesy of the Southwestern Distillery of Wadebridge. A nice drop all told!
Mike Lampshire of Albaston Starters, sponsors of the February page on the Jho Charity Calendar was delighted when he had the World Final winner on his page. He wasn't so delighted that he'd have to fork out another £100... I was told by Uncle Mike to choose my first word, but the second was off!
Sadly, the over the top fanaticism of some fans spoilt some fans days. To some fans, and I am sorry but it tends to be the followers of a certain Scottish driver, they feel its acceptable to abuse anyone that doesn't have their point of view. It is blatant fundamentalism, you could even call them the "Al Queda" of the supporters, terrorizing any dissenters to their views.
We all have our favourites and we all have our drivers that we like to boo. It's all banter and pantomime. When it goes too far, it gets ugly, and some scenes I do not want to see again.
Bullying kids, giving dogs abuse to drivers in their motorhomes, accusing drivers of team racing and generally pronouncing jihad on anyone that doesn't fit with your point of view is not conducive to that driver either. Especially as this is coming from people close to the hub of the team. It riles the other drivers and fans to boo them more and to make a rod for their back, and therefore you end up with the same again. Perhaps a gentle reminder to the driver that he is responsible for the actions of his entourage maybe in order.
You can't blame it on the World Final or any excessive alcoholic high jinx, it simply has no place at racing. Maybe at tribal Cowdenbeath, but certainly not here.
Finally though, a truly great race run by a great promotion who truly understands its fans and its formulae. This race I can safely say is probably one of the best I will ever see. If the next 5 world finals are dull processions, I can abide it, because I was there for this one. As I remembered my Grandad as the warm down laps, I looked up to the heavens and hoped he saw it from up there. He would of enjoyed that.
It is certainly a race that we will all be telling our grandchildren about....
Over to you, Cowdenbeath. Top that!!!
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