In Praise of Glock

Well what a scintillating finish to a Formula One season. I’m not sure it would actually be possible to contrive such a conclusion – you’d be derided for cultivating such a far-fetched tale. In the end, much like the England cricket team in the 90s, Lewis Hamilton found himself praying the heavens would open. Thankfully they obliged, and how it changed the race – blunting the challenge of the unfortunate Timo Glock, who found himself overtaken by almost everyone (even the safety car, Fred Flinstone, and the cast of Last of the Summer Wine on an out of control loom would have passed him by). He gamely tried to pilot his stricken car to the finish, however conditions made it impossible for him to travel at anything other than cruising speed. It is somewhat beguiling that a simple variable such as wet weather could wreak such havoc on Glock - a bit like when the nothing could stop the Darleks other than a flight of stairs.

There are already scurrilous rumours that Herr Glock’s curb-crawling on that final lap was some devious attempt to deprive Massa of the world title. The number of Facebook groups devoted to him has swelled in recent days; many in Italian and Portuguese suggesting that they are perhaps not complimentary towards the young man. Of course he wasn’t intentionally ushering Lewis to the championship, you only had to look at his aquaplaning on those final bends to realise that driving any faster would have even more certainly handed Hamilton the title. However, this has not deterred the Massa-supporting conspiracy theorists, nor diminished the warm, glowing sense of affection I have for Glock. I just love him. Of course it is not so much the German driver that I love, but more the notion that Glock, unhappy with earlier decisions by the powers that be, decided to take matters into his own hands and gift Hamilton the title. Take that Belgium! Let’s not forget the commentary team, who played their part in building his aura as well

“IS THAT GLOCK?! IS THAT GLOCK?!” YES! YES IT IS, IT’S GLOCK! they screamed. What a welcome sight he was, and the commentary is right up with “Its up for grabs now!” for perfectly encapsulating the moment.

Given the regularity with which Formula One cars collide meant that there was always a chance a hapless third party would intrude on this decider. It was almost SebastianVettel who spoiled the party, overtaking Hamilton as he did at the death. Vettel is clearly not acquainted with the British press who would no doubt have savaged him after that doozy. Liz, hardly a passionate F1 follower was moved to comment that

“I hate Vettel, why can’t he mind his own business” before the rain intervened. Goodness knows what The Sun would have done with him, given that reaction from a relative moderate. Thankfully, there was no calculated hatchet job by Hamilton’s usual nemesis Fernando Alonso, while Murray Walker and his optimism have retired meaning that he was unable to talk Hamilton out of the title.

“Surely nothing can stop him now” would almost certainly have preceeded Vettel’s nifty overtaking on the penultimate lap – and then it wouldn’t have rained either.

Back in the pits the tension was clearly unbearable. Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend, Pussy Cat Doll #4 was there, looking as out of place as it is possible to look in a Formula one pit lane. She was dressed as though about to embark on an evening at Bar Med in Guildford, rather than occupying a position about 20 feet away from flammable, and highly combustable materials.

Both teams celebrated as Hamilton crossed the finish line. Ferrari clearly had the same GPS system I used on a recent trip to Canada – i.e. completely useless – not realising that Glock had been passed. It was the one sour part of the day watching their celebrations cruelly cut short, though at least the producers did not linger to watch this news digested. Instead we crossed to McClaren, and unbridled happiness – everyone jumped for joy – even the Pussycat Doll, who I hope did not turn her ankle when she landed on those heels. Everyone ITV found to interview felt that the result was ‘probably fair’ – Lewis probably deserved it, and that Massa was a dignified and utterly noble runner-up; he could almost have been British infact.

There was precious little mention Glock, who had quickly ascended to the position of Britain’s second-most popular F1 driver. I’m already looking forward to cheering him on next season.