Archive for the ‘ Sports ’ Category

Scattered Words about Football

One thing I didn’t see too much of in the first week of this season: hard hits and stretchers. I hope this is a trend that will continue. There are times I think the NFL being dubbed the “No Fun League” makes perfect sense, and officials can be too strict or too arbitrary about how they enforce player safety regulations. I hate seeing a great defense getting dinged for 15 yards because someone fell in the QB a second after he made a pass.

But I still saw plenty of sacks, aggressive pass rush, and tough coverage in the secondary. I just didn’t see those bone-jarring hits that I’ve enjoyed less and less lately. By the end of last season, it sometimes seemed like the cart was coming out at least once every game. Then I’d see the last play on replay and my stomach would turn. Heads whipping around at unnatural angles, legs bowing and then folding as two or three more players join a tackle.

Oh, it’s great when one player demolishes another and they both get up fine. I used to love watching receivers go up to make a catch, knowing they were going to get crushed for it. But I can’t enjoy that anymore, knowing how often guys don’t bounce right back. Knowing that even if they do, football still can do lasting, invisible damage.

Football is working toward a different balance now, and I’m willing to put up with hiccups along the way. Is the game worse for it? So far, I don’t think so, despite glitches. Turns out that I love the strategy of football and the finesse of good play, and don’t really need the hard hits. The ordinary everyday violence of the sport is good enough for me.

See Our Ad in Golf Digest

Cialis has weird ads. A camera gazes through a filter so sickly green that it’s like watching from inside a Jameson bottle, and then rugged men solve manly problem ruggedly. But the strangest things is that each ad exhorts you to see their ad in Golf Digest, which leads me to the inescapable conclusion that Golf Digest enjoys the limpest readership in the world.

Super-Duper Tastelessly Cold

Coors has realized they have a major problem, and that some Coors drinkers might accidentally someday taste their Coors Light. So they’ve introduced a revolutionary new piece of technology, the “Cold Bar” that shows when your beer goes from “Cold” to “Super Cold”. This leaves Bud Light with nowhere to go but “manning up” with nitrogen-cooling.

Da Bears

I had written-off the Bears this season. This was going to be a Packers – Lions fight for the division, and the Bears were going to enter into the freefall that usually accompanies a contract extension for Lovie Smith.

So the Bears’ merciless beating of the Atlanta Falcons has me cautiously optimistic about our chances of taking the division again. At the same time, the Packers look even better than they did last season, and Jay Cutler is still making risky passes that could totally kill any momentum the Bears have. It’s going to be an exciting season, I think, but the Bears have a long way to go before being a conference contender.

Perhaps the most terrifying thing I saw, however, was Tom Brady and the Patriots. Rodgers had a tougher opponent, but I didn’t expect Brady and his receivers to be looking so good. And it’s not just a matter of one or two targets. He has an offensive arsenal to choose from. Branch, Welker, Gronkowski, Ochocinco. A good QB can be neutralized by a rush and a good coverage, but how do you rush someone with that many weapons, and how do you cover them all?

Sports Fan

You know, I could never imagine buying Sunday Ticket. When I lived near Chicago, the only thing I cared about was the Bears, and so football was a sport that only engaged me for about 3 hours a week during the season. A great game here and there might capture my attention, but I didn’t really love the sport so much as I loved my team. That’s how I used to approach most sports. Ferrari and Michael Schumacher, not F1. Jordan, Pippen, and the Bulls, but not basketball. I think one reason I never got into baseball is that the Chicago teams were mediocre to disappointing throughout my childhood.

Yet MK and I just paid DirecTV over $300 without hesitation, because football has become such a part of our lives that we can easily, happily spend nine hours on Sunday watching the games. Fantasy football has certainly changed my relationship to the sport (I’m in two leagues now, and have to track about forty players), but it’s deeper than that. Sports can surprise us in ways that few things can anymore. There’s no script to anticipate. Watching Tony Romo melt-down against the Jets in the 4th quarter is dramatic, but not inevitable. He might be redeemed someday, or perhaps the NFL will turn its back on him as a talented but fatally flawed player. I don’t know what will happen, but it’s become one of the league’s ongoing storylines.

Cam Newton had a career game against the Cardinals on Sunday, but I will remember how angry and solitary he was on the sidelines near the end of the game. You’d think a man would be thrilled to have silenced his doubters and secured his position in a single game, but I got the sense that Newton didn’t care about that. He seemed like someone who had merely affirmed what he already knew: he was a good quarterback and the right person for the job. That decided, he lives and dies with his team’s fortunes. On Sunday, people kept patting him on the back and he accepted their praise uneasily, his body-language screaming, “But we still lost.”

I think it is the reality of sports, and the beauty of the contest, that draws me to them. Careers are at stake. People are living out their life’s ambition, or still trying to realize it. Along the way they push themselves closer to the realm of the superhuman. Jenson Button driving at the Canadian GP, coming from last place to take the victory away from Sebastian Vettel in the last, rainy laps of the race. Tom Brady’s savage dismantling of the Dolphins on Monday as he passed for over 500 yards, working in perfect harmony with his receivers and linemen. Devin Hester breaking the NFL record for touchdowns on kick-returns with two of them in a single game. The Blackhawks almost willing themselves back into championship contention as they took three straight games from the Canucks.

I suppose I am just a bit tired of being told stories, either through filmmaking or writing. I know the tools, I know they usually adhere to formula, and even “twists” follow their own set of traditions. With sports, the stories emerge from earnest contests where the outcomes are never certain, and the process is the payoff. Years later, documentarians might arrive and tell a story that everyone can understand, and people might say, “I had no idea there was this great drama behind the scenes.” But those of us who follow sports know exactly that, and our lives and memories are richer for having watched it happen.

The Bruins – Canucks Series

It was great watching Boston battle back to win these Stanley Cup Finals after losing close games in Vancouver and enduring a lot of provocation from a Cancuks’ team prone to cheap-shotting and embellishing. But I have to admit, I’m stunned at the result. Watching the first two games, and having seen the Hawks – Canucks series in the first round, it seemed clear as crystal that the Canucks were a better, fitter team. Boston was very good, and goalie Tim Thomas could produce miracles in net, but it was telling to me that when the Canucks got control of the puck, there was almost no stopping them. The Canucks lost this series by abandoning the game that made them the best team in hockey.

Vancouver is a team with a ton offensive weapons, good skaters, and a pair of stingy goalies (although Luongo is prone to astonishing collapses). They racked up 3rd period and overtime wins against Boston because they had more staying power and could continue to play a fast, dynamic game long after Boston had worn themselves out by trying to keep up and pressure Roberto Luongo. When their top-scorers were out of the game, Vancouver’s fourth-line players could frustrated the Bruins by playing keep-away, and disrupting Boston’s attempts at getting an offensive attack set-up. Boston’s top lines would have to rest just as the Canucks sent their best players back out.  That was a winning formula.

Unfortunately, there was another side to the Canucks, what Trib columnist Steve Rosenbloom calls the “cheap and gutless Canucks.” The Canucks could skate around their opposition, but they repeatedly chose to mix it up. Raffi Torres would finish hard checks on near-defenseless players. Alex Burrows taunted and bit Boston’s Patrice Bergeron, and the officials didn’t see it and the league didn’t do anything about it. Aaron Rome crushed Nate Horton with a blind-side, open-ice hit well away from the play.

These were bad, needless provocations. They were opportunistic and retaliation was slow to come, but Vancouver was letting the series descend into a slugging match, and that is the last place they should have wanted to go against the Bruins. And they should have realized that officials tend to let hockey teams play the game of their choosing.

This is one of the things I find truly fascinating about hockey. It is a sport of negotiated violence, perhaps because there are so many gray areas, so much that can be left to interpretation. Some hits are obviously clean or illegal, but a lot of them could go either way. In general, the officials seem to exist to keep the game at a level both teams are comfortably playing at. Some teams get into fistfights and the officials will let them go at it, but other teams avoid brawling and officials generally respect their wishes, penalizing opponents who attempt to start something. Hitting seems to fit this mold as well. Officials seem to give hitting teams less leeway with their checks when they are going after a skating team that’s more interested in playing the puck than the body. Players know that rules enforcement does not exist in a vacuum, and that’s why they put so much effort into persuading officials to make calls. It’s all part of a continuing effort to define the boundaries of the acceptable for a given game. The process is even more elaborate within a series, where each game carries baggage from its predecessors.

So back to the Canucks, then. Torres, Burrows, and finally Rome gave away all the protection and sympathy the officials might have extended them and their teammates. Burrows never got any calls to go his way after biting Bergeron, and he made it worse by blatantly embellishing in an attempt to draw penalties. Rome’s hit basically cemented Vancouver’s reputation as series villains. Together, they had successfully painted a target on the backs of every one of their teammates. Officials, who had missed some important calls early in the series, decided to let Boston balance the accounts. By the start of Game Six, it was open season on the ice.

The Canucks were in a street-fight along the boards when what they really needed was room to skate and the confidence to take passes and play the puck. The Sedins had never had the impact on these playoffs that they were supposed to, but they completely checked-out of the series once it got too brutal. You could see, in game seven, Canucks turning as they approached the puck, expecting to get hit, rather than playing it. Quarter-second hesitations, players stopping short or slowing down… they were not the same team they’d been in Games One and Two. They were not playing their game, the one that left opponents winded and demoralized late in the game.

A few Canucks players changed the tone of the series, but despite Boston’s victory, I’m not sure I’m entirely happy. Game Six was a melee that saw one Canuck, Mason Raymond, taken out of the game fractured vertebrae. I don’t think the hit was dirty, and I certainly don’t think Boychuck added anything extra to his hit in an attempt to hurt Mason. It was an awkward play. But in hockey as in football, the sport will only get safer when players themselves start passing on opportunities to drop the hammer on one another. Officials play a part in that process by demonstrating they will protect players and punish excesses. In this series, the officials seemed to back away slowly and let the enforcers go to work. That’s how escalation happens, and that’s when people start getting carted off the ice. By not taking a firmer hand early in the series, NHL officials left every player more exposed to injury.

Team Orders

Until the very last lap of the Brazilian GP, I expected Sebastian Vettel to let Mark Webber past for the victory. The idea that Red Bull would allow Fernando Alonso to maintain a significant lead heading into the season finale at Abu Dhabi was astonishing to someone who came of age watching Ferrari tossing victories at Michael Schumacher.

Red Bull did not hesitate to point out that difference. In an interview with an Austrian paper,  the head of Red Bull, Dietrich Mateschitz said:

Let the two drivers race and what will be will be. if Alonso wins we will have been unlucky. I predict a Hollywood ending. Worst case scenario we don’t become champion? We’ll do it next year. But our philosophy stays the same because this is sport and it must remain sport. We don’t manipulate things like Ferrari do.

Strong stuff. I suspect Mateschitz might even believe it. But he isn’t the guy running the team,  and I don’t think the truth is as cut-and-dry as Red Bull is trying to spin it.

The podium at the Brazilian Grand Prix, after Red Bull took the Constructors' Championship. (image from F1 Fanatic.co.uk)

As I discussed earlier this season, Red Bull’s team politics have been disastrous. Vettel was clearly the team’s number one driver, and Red Bull took some clear steps to favor him. Unfortunately, Vettel lost his position through disastrous misjudgments and Webber became a major championship contender. After Red Bull alienated Webber at Silverstone, and he replied by jamming Vettel at the start and then going on to a convincing victor, Red Bull had to stop favoring Vettel. There was no longer a plausible argument for explaining why he would get preferential treatment. Now, having been burned in their attempts to make Vettel into Michael Schumacher and Mark Webber into Rubens Barrichello, they’re forced to sit on their hands while these two drivers run the risk of throwing away the driver’s championship. But let’s be clear what happened: Vettel was shown far greater respect at Red Bull, and that translated into material aid at Silverstone. When Vettel squandered his advantages and Webber moved to the front, the team stopped favoring anybody. Heads Vettel wins, tails Webber loses.

On the other hand, if Red Bull are sincere about their desire to let the championship be decided on the track, then it really does make for an impressive contrast with Ferrari, who maneuvered Fernando Alonso into this position by forcing Felipe Massa to yield the lead at Germany. Next week, three drivers have a credible shot at the championship. Had Alonso not been allowed past Massa, the drama would be even greater, with the three contenders all locked within a few points of one another.

The longer I watch F1, the less of a Ferrari fan I am. In retrospect, I feel horrible about how Barrichello’s was wasted at Ferrari, and how shockingly little gratitude he was shown  for his driving. If he had been allowed to challenge Schumacher behind the wheel of a Ferrari, I suspect Schumacher’s championship count might be slightly reduced. Now they’re doing the same thing to Felipe Massa, who fought his way into the number one spot at Ferrari by out-driving the temperamental Kimi Raikkonen only to have it taken away when Ferrari anointed Fernando Alonso as their primary.

But if Ferrari wins the driver’s championship by having manipulated results, and Red Bull loses it by having their drivers battling until the end, then Ferrari’s example becomes harmful to the entire sport. As long as one team is pushing one driver to the front of the standings, others will feel pressure to do the same. That’s a disaster when you have a field this strong: Webber and Vettel at Red Bull, Hamilton and Button at McLaren, Alonso and Massa at Ferrari, and Rosberg and Schumacher at Mercedes (and God help us if Kubica gets a tough opponent over at Renault). This is the best F1 lineup in 20 years, and Ferrari cheats everyone if they force teams to push one driver.

Am I a hypocrite in this matter? Certainly. I never complained when Schumacher was getting the same treatment at Ferrari. But it looked better on Schumacher. He was breaking records, drove like a master, and was completely barefaced about his willingness to break rules if it was to his advantage. But now, with a less dominant car and a less charismatic driver, Ferrari’s politics don’t look as good.

Neither does Schumacher, to be quite honest. The same antics that were almost endearing from a championship leader seem petty and irresponsible from a driver hobbling around the middle of the pack like Schumacher is right now. His conduct toward Rubens is beneath contempt, for instance.

F1 has changed. In Schumacher’s era, it was plucky Ferrari against the icy, machine-like McLaren team under Ron Dennis. Nobody else really mattered that much. The championship was always between two drivers, and it seemed fair for each team to rally behind its champion. But nowadays, Ferrari, Red Bull, McLaren, and Renault are all operating credible programs, and running some great drivers. In this environment, it’s simply less acceptable for a team to push one driver forward.

As we head into the last race, I’ll be pulling for Mark Webber. By all accounts, he’s a class act. Admittedly, he has only himself to blame for his current predicament. He drives too aggressively and squandered his lead through mistakes. On the other hand, Vettel is even less admirable. His mistakes have been jaw-droppingly bad, and his conduct is off-putting in the extreme. When things are going well, he is all smiles and good humor. When things aren’t going well, he’s a hazard to other drivers and a waste for his team.

Alonso… well, he had one win handed to him. His demeanor behind the wheel is annoying. He seems personally offended whenever someone does not yield position to him. But he is also a great driver who overcame a deficient car and some bad luck to get to the front of the pack. He is a two-time champion already and, if he adds a third to his count, it would be impossible to argue he doesn’t deserve it.

Poisoning the Well at Red Bull Racing

This is what Mark Webber said to his team after winning the British Grand Prix at Silverstone on Sunday: “Not bad for a number two driver, yeah?”

Team principle Christian Horner said to him: “Think you can manage a smile now?”

This is a team on the verge of a meltdown.

The start of the British GP, moments before Webber helped run Vettel off the track. (Photo by Vladimir Rys/Bongarts/Getty Images, via F1 Fanatic)

There are those, and Red Bull is one of them, who say that the bonhomie between Lewis Hamilton and Jenson Button is entirely forced. It’s a PR dog-and-pony show to make the legendarily fractious and unhappy McLaren team suddenly seem like the cool kids, who just love racing, winning, and each other. Maybe so, but I have never seen a McLaren team so laid-back and consistent as this one. The fact is that most of us who watch F1 can recognize when fault lines form within a team, and this year it’s Red Bull that’s cracking, not McLaren. It’s worth considering why.

There are three key differences between the two teams, and I’m not sure how Red Bull can address any of them. The first is that McLaren has 2009 World Champion Jenson Button driving alongside 2008 World Champion Lewis Hamilton. Both these drivers have secured a space in F1 history and have vastly less to prove than Mark Webber or Sebastian Vettel. That’s not to say Button or Hamilton are not driven, they most certainly are. But it does mean that Hamilton and Button are secure about themselves and within their team in ways that Vettel and Webber are not. Vettel is young, impetuous, and probably flabbergasted at how his heretofore over-the-hill teammate has launched an attack on the championship. Webber has been kicked around a bit in his career and is more defensive because of it, and when this year began he looked like a marked man at Red Bull.

The second key difference is one of personal style. Button and Hamilton are entirely different sorts of drivers. Button is less inspired and more consistent, a man who has made a study of driving rather than relying on instinct. He is not a fighter, though he can pick his way through a field when he needs to, and he will not drive beyond the limits of a car. Hamilton, on the other hand, is samurai. He has been trained from childhood to be a race driver, and a highly aggressive one. He is prone to lapses in judgment and flashes of temper, but he will drive the wheels off a car and wring every extra hundredth of a second from it. Put someone in front him and tell him to have at it, and he will do whatever it takes to get the position.

Vettel and Webber are both more in the Hamilton mold, and I’m not sure either possesses all his strengths while they definitely copy his weaknesses. They are aggressive to the point of stupidity. At Valencia two weeks ago, Webber drove onto the back of Heikki Kovaleinen’s Lotus and sent himself flying into the nearest wall. It was an entirely avoidable collision, but it was vintage Webber: a reckless charge into someone’s tail. A few weeks before that incident, Vettel managed to ruin Red Bull’s entire race by trying to force his way past Webber, and then swerving into him to try and regain the racing line. Red Bull had a lock on first and second until Vettel botched this pass. Webber finished third and Vettel didn’t finish at all.

But most unbelievably, and this brings us to the third point, Red Bull tried to blame the incident on Webber. Despite the fact that the entire world saw Vettel drive into Webber, the initial reaction from Red Bull leadership was some bizarre song and dance about Webber lapping slower and having turned his engine down to conserve fuel. Therefore, the theory went, he was obligated to let Vettel past. Perhaps, but Webber drove in a straight line and Vettel hit him. There is no way to spin that. Hell, Webber didn’t even force Vettel to try the inside of the straight. Vettel had his pick of lines and went for the one barely wide enough for his car. Then he juked into his teammate.

You can watch it here. Contact happens at about 1:25, but the whole thing is worth watching. You can see the Vettel is faster but, you also see that’s irrelevant given what happened.

Strangely, this photo did not actually solve the problems brewing at Red Bull.

The reason this matters is because Webber and his fans believe that Webber is not getting fair treatment from his team. Even the commentators on FOX Sunday were making the comment that the word was the Austrian leadership of the Red Bull organization have a thumb firmly on Vettel’s side of the scale.

This weekend, for instance, Red Bull brought two new front wings to Silverstone, one for each driver. In a strange mishap, Vettel’s broke. It slid right off its mountings while he was driving. Anyway, the team’s reaction was to immediately take the wing from Webber’s car and give it to Vettel.

The official explanation is that the team’s aerodynamicist, the legendary Adrian Newey, needed race data on the new wing and so one of these two drivers was damned well going to drive it. I accept that explanation, but why give it to Vettel? It was neither driver’s fault that the wing broke, but why turn the incident into one that punished Webber?

I’ve never had much trouble with teams favoring one driver over another. The reason Schumacher got better treatment at Ferrari than Rubens Barrichello is that Schumacher was a better, more consistent driver. Rubens was treated shabbily at times, yes, but there was no doubt that he was the number two driver. This is how F1 teams work: one driver takes the lead and gets first call on new upgrades and race strategy. The other driver lags behind a bit.

But it only works if there is a clear hierarchy that makes sense to both drivers. Where the drivers are equally successful and both fighting for championship points, the team has to step aside and let them sort things out on the track, with only one rule: don’t take each other out. Red Bull can be forgiven for coming into this season thinking of Vettel as their primary driver, but the season should have changed that assessment. It changed everyone else’s.

I don’t know how you begin sorting this out. The team leadership has already fouled this situation up, and so Horner and his people aren’t really in a position to say, “Knock it off.” They’re part of the problem. But so is Webber, because while he shouldn’t be treated like a number two driver, he doesn’t act like a number one. His conduct after qualifying and after this race was classless, and only served to underline his distaste for his team. The same team that put him in a winning car, set it up, maintained it, and serviced it during the race.

Perhaps Horner should get his walking papers for mishandling this personnel issue so badly. Let him fall on the sword and then signal a fresh start with someone else. But here’s the bitter irony over at Red Bull this year: they’re hands down the best team. This is a successful, dominant formula for victory, and nobody over there should want to rock the boat. But they’ve let rot set into the team, and it’s already destroyed the ability of the two drivers to trust one another. When these guys line up next to each other on the grid, each has to worry about the other sticking a knife in his back. Webber wasn’t even allowed to catch up and lap Vettel in traffic Sunday, for fear the two would clash.

Red Bull has the best car by a half second a lap this season, and they’re in danger of losing the constructor’s championship because they’ve set their drivers against one another. The only thing to do now is to treat each driver equally and hope that restores peace. Otherwise it’s going to be a long, ugly off-season leading to an even uglier racing season in 2011.

To Hell with "The Show"

I haven’t talked about it much here, but I’m a huge Formula 1 fan. I’ve been watching for about ten or fifteen years now, since around the time Michael Schumacher made his switch from Benetton to Ferrari. At this point I’m addicted to the racing, the engineering, the business, and all the melodrama that comprise an F1 season. Even with all the egotistical posturing and the ruinous politics that have marred the sport, I still tune in on race day to see the best drivers and racing teams in the world competing for the most prestigious title in motorsport. I simply cannot get it anywhere else.

After watching for so many years, and doing a great deal of reading and virtual racing, I see a lot of things that average viewers probably don’t.  I can see battles for position opening up well before cars appear to be dueling, just from the way the pursuing driver is taking corners. I scrutinize pit stops for the slightest misstep or wing adjustment, and can often tell you exactly why this stop took 9.2 seconds and that one took 10. I can see when a driver is beginning to have trouble with his tires, and can probably tell you why. F1 races often look uneventful, the same way golf or baseball can look boring and uneventful, but if you have a trained eye then most of them are fairly filled with interesting action. Just not wheel-to-wheel racing.

Yet it is something of an obsession within the sport’s governing body and among its fans to find ways to improve the show. The argument goes that F1 has become far too processional at the expense of the drivers’ duels that are the reason most people watch the sport in the first place. Something must be changed, perhaps the rules and regulations or the tracks, in order to make passing and fights for position more regular occurrences.

I love great drivers’ duels. The Hakkinen – Schumacher battles around the turn of  century, with first one then the other having the slightly better car, were a thrill to watch even if they weren’t going neck-and-neck most of the time. For years McLaren had the better cars and when Schumacher managed to get out in front of Hakkinen, it sometimes seemed like he was making a heroic fight against the inevitable as Hakkinen surgically trimmed the gap to nothing. Schumacher was perhaps never quite as good a race tactician as Hakkinen, but few drivers could wring as much performance from a car as Schumacher. The clash of styles and strengths was always fascinating to watch.

Perhaps there used to be a lot more of that kind of thing. Certainly in the 60s and 70s the running order seems to have been a lot more fluid, and longtime fans are quick to wax nostalgic about the great battles of the 80s and early 90s.

So it’s possible I’m biased toward the kind of F1 racing that I have always known: strategic and perfectionist. Passing opportunities come only rarely. Most races I’ve seen are about positioning and timing, and it’s not too often that drivers get in a dogfight for a points-paying position. It also makes those moments that much more fraught, because it’s difficult to battle back once a rival passes you.

In order to bring back “the show” that supposedly makes racing worth watching, however, we find ourselves facing the same kind of rule-tweaking and politicking that has made Formula 1 so dysfunctional. One of the major problems with modern Formula 1 cars, as opposed to those of the 60s, is that so much of their grip is aerodynamic rather than mechanical. In other words, they perform worse when they are near another F1 car, such as when you are trying to pass.

One of the reasons F1 cars are such high-performance vehicles is that they are covered in wings, winglets, and diffusers that generate grip. They are able to take turns at ridiculously high-speeds because the air itself is forcing them closer to the track. Problem is, they need “clean air” moving predictably and smoothly over the body in order for these elements to do their jobs. Out on a track by themselves, it’s not an issue. But if you’re chasing another F1 car, with the same aerodynamic elements leaving weird currents and air disturbances in their wake, then you have a major problem. The guy you’re chasing is getting everything from his aero elements, but your performance is suffering, which forces you to either back off or take serious risks.

The solution I hear proposed most often, and one they’ve tried to implement in various forms over the years, is to eliminate the number, type, and placement of aerodynamic elements that a Formula 1 car is allowed to have. Reduce the amount of aerodynamic group, leave the cars more dependent on mechanical grip (suspension and tires), and they will not suffer the same degraded performance in passing situations.

Problem is, they will likely be inferior race cars, incapable of matching the pace set by their aerodynamic siblings. In the name of improving the spectacle of F1, we would be turning the clock back 30 years and mooting the accumulated aerodynamic expertise of racing engineers who have steadily improving on their craft and learning ever more about how to make air interact better with a car’s body.

As I said, F1 is about the best drivers and team in the world competing at the highest level. Engineers are part of that, and to start reducing their role is to reduce the sport. If the cars have trouble passing because of the way they are designed, then that’s the nature of great racing machines. It’s not really a problem we should be trying to fix by hamstringing the cars or their designers.

Casual fans are always going to be clamoring for more, flashier action. A lot of people tune into baseball games and just wait for the home runs to start flying out of the park. NASCAR explicitly markets itself to yahoos who watch it for the crashes. I’m sure a lot of people just wish hockey was just made of brawls and shoot-outs. But that doesn’t mean these sports should go out of their way to cater to this uninvolved, sometime audience. F1 is a hell of a show if you know what you’re looking at: the culmination of the efforts of hundreds of talented, passionate professionals. There’s far more to it than passing.

(I just found this article on Grandprix.com, which is thorough and fascinating explanation of the techniques and physics of overtaking, and why modern F1 features so little close racing. I highly recommend it.)