This Week in Motorsport
I've got a little bit of time on my hands. Not tons, mind you, not with the merciless nature of that most ominous of Latin axioms, tempus fugate—time flies, but more consecutive days without any scheduled commitments than I've had since returning to the academic life last September. This liberty coincides with the return of Formula One racing after a four-week "summer break;" so, I've decided to immerse myself in everything F1 has to offer. Or at least immerse myself as much as I am able from a distance, without journeying to Europe and seeing a grand prix with mine own eyes. (In due time, my friends, in due time.)

Yesterday morning, I tape recorded SPEED's live broadcast of the second practice session for Sunday's Grand Prix of Europe from Valencia, perfidious Spain. Yes, I taped practice. Last night, I watched Inside Grand Prix, a frivolous little look at F1 and Formula One Debrief, an hour-long evaluation of the last race, the Hungarian Grand Prix (Magyar Nagydij)† of four weeks hence. Obsessive of me, I know, but at this still very early stage of the game there is ever so much I simply don't understand about F1 racing; so, I am glad for any and all additional information. This morning, I taped SPEED's live broadcast of the three rounds of qualifying for the Grand Prix of Europe. I first taped qualifying before the German Grand Prix (Grosser Preis von Deutschland) last month, though I didn't have the chance to watch it until nearly a week after the race itself; nevertheless, it was thrilling. But not nearly so thrilling as today's qualifying!

Watching qualifying, something altogether unexpected happened. I was trying to find a way to differentiate reliably Nico Rosberg from Nick Heidfeld (I confuse them frequently, but not without reason: both are German, they have similar Christian names, and their team liveries—Rosberg drives for B.M.W. Sauber and Heidfeld for Williams—are beguilingly similar, both blue and white), when reigning World Champion Lewis Hamilton (McLaren) posted the fastest lap time, putting him in position to start Sunday's grand prix from the so-called pole position, the number one and most advantageous spot on the starting grid. That wasn't the unexpected part, the McLaren MP4-24 has been a completely different car since the German Grand Prix than it was during the early season mediocrity. What was unexpected was that I cared. Obviously, I care, I find the whole exercise thrilling, and if I didn't I wouldn't bother to tape record and watch qualifying, but this was different. I was glad Hamilton put himself on pace to take the pole. Shortly after, Rubens Barrichello ran a faster lap, and I was chagrined. But Hamilton kept flying around the Valencia street circuit, eventually surpassing Berrichello's pace. In the closing seconds of qualifying, Lewis Hamilton sat at no. 1, Barrichello at no. 2, with Hamilton's McLaren teammate Heikki Kovalainen tearing around the track on pace to snatch the first position away from the World Champion. A slight mistake around the last corner cost Kovalainen the pole, but his lap time was still second best, putting McLaren one-two for the start of Sunday's European Grand Prix: qualifyinglink. I was exhilarated. Hoorah!

Hoorah? Am I now a McLaren supporter? Specifically McLaren, not just McLaren the way I root for the entire grid? I'd hate to be a McLaren supporter for two reasons: {a} Lewis Hamilton is the reigning F1 champion, and won the most recent race, the Hungarian G.P. I paid no special attention to McLaren early in the season when Hamilton and Kovalainen routinely finished in the bottom half of the race results. Admittedly, I wasn't paying attention during the first five grands prix of '09 (Drat and double drat!), but no McLaren car was in the running during three of the five grands prix I've watched so far. So, beginning to support them on such an upswing in performance smacks of fair weather capriciousness. {b} Even before I began following Formula One with May's Monaco Grand Prix (Grand Prix de Monaco), I knew that McLaren had been given an enormous fine in '07 for industrial espionage, stealing secrets from rival Ferrari. I'd hate to root for a team of bottomfeeders and cheaters. But, as I wrote the other day, loyalty is an intense emotion the rational mind can never hope to fully comprehend; so, only time and more grands prix will tell whether my heart belongs to McLaren. Mayhap today was an aberration, a one-off fascination with any team other than Brawn or Red Bull dominating.

In any event, not even my hatred for Spain and the Spaniards can dampen my excitement for the Grand Prix of Europe. F1 is back and there are only seven grands prix left in '09. Formula One fever: contract it!

†Pardon the awkwardness, I am experimenting with presenting the name of each grand prix as officially presented on the Formula One website, more often than not rendered as "X Grand Prix" instead of in the language of the host country.