Submitted by Kropotkin on Sun, 2008-06-29 23:59.
There's an old axiom in motorcycle racing that says that you can't win the race in the first corner. Of course, being a truth universally acknowledged means that at every race, somebody tries to disprove the rule by launching themselves off the starting line in a fit of abandon, hoping that if they can just make good on some places and get into Turn 1 first, then they can take control of the race. The upshot of such a precipitate course of action is usually that, far from proving their own point, the hotheaded riders instead prove the corollary to this axiom, which is that, if you can't win the race in the first corner, you can most assuredly lose it.
The examples are legion, so many in fact that it makes it difficult to remember specific incidents. One first-corner crash fades into the next, with every weekend yet another rider heading into the gravel and out of the race by leaving their braking way too late, or pushing too hard on tires which haven't warmed enough yet, or jamming their bike into a non-existent gap between riders they haven't quite managed to pass. But a couple of incidents illustrate the point all too well.
Down And Out
One of the most memorable was the omen that Valentino Rossi's 2006 championship defense was to be long, difficult, and ultimately futile. Crushing the opposition in 2005 meant that the team had taken their collective eye off the ball, and the factory Yamaha team entered the season with a bike that chattered and vibrated and simply wouldn't handle, a problem made worse with the added grip of qualifying tires. So Rossi started the 2nd race of the season at Jerez from down in 9th on the grid, behind the Spaniard Toni Elias. Trying to make up the positions he had lost, Rossi fired through the order from the start, and tipped into the first corner in 4th position. Unfortunately for Rossi, the man he had just edged into 5th was wild man Toni Elias, and the Spaniard, braking far too late to actually make it round the turn, slammed into the rear of Rossi's Yamaha, sending him into the gravel, and left to chase his way up through the field for a couple of points. Rossi's enforced charge combined with Elias' determination not to get passed resulted in disaster for Rossi.
There are of course more recent examples. None more recent than the previous race, the British Grand Prix at Donington. In his first MotoGP race in front of his home crowd, and at a track that he knows well for the first time since they left Qatar, the tension really got to James Toseland. The British rookie struggled all weekend, suffering partly from the difficulty of finding a setup in changeable weather, and partly just from nerves. Two crashes in the final minutes of qualifying left Toseland down in 16th on the grid, and with it all to do. To make matters worse, the home crowd had already been sent wild by fellow Brit Scott Redding's victory in the 125 class, and expectations were being raised from sky high to somewhere beyond the orbit of Pluto. Once the flag dropped, Toseland succumbed to the temptation to make up as much of his deficit as he could at the first corner, with the inevitable result. Asking too much of his tires at Redgate, Toseland slid, fell and ended up in the gravel, rejoining the race already nearly 40 seconds down.
Electric Voodoo
The pressure to get into the first corner ahead of the pack has been increased by the use of launch control systems. With riders virtually able to pin the throttle and dump the clutch off the line, the electronics removing the proclivity of the bikes to hoist the front wheel, as well as ensuring the engines don't bog down, the differences in the run down to the first corner are getting ever smaller. Getting into the first corner ahead is becoming more and more a question of reflexes and anticipation, and less about fluffing the start due to pre-race nerves.
Launch control has also increased the importance of qualifying, and the free practice sessions running up to it. As the electronics have taken the luck out of the starts, the further forward a rider is on the grid, the better his chances of getting into the first corner at the front of the pack. And so qualifying sessions have become ever more competitive, with the first qualifying tires now making an appearance about halfway through the hour-long session, a whole 10 minutes earlier than in previous years. The ability to put in a fast lap on very sticky rubber is becoming more and more crucial to the results.
The reigning World Champion Casey Stoner is a master of both arts. His starting reflexes are sublime, honed as a child dirt-track racer. When the race only lasts a couple of minutes, you can't afford to waste even the tiniest fraction of a second, and Casey Stoner cherishes every thousandth he can gain. But Stoner is also astounding in practice, establishing his place at the top of the timesheets in any given session early, and not relinquishing it without a major fight. He has a knack of dominating almost every session of practice at an event from the moment the bikes roll out on track, and doesn't appear to understand the concept of building up slowly.