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Right now MotoGP seems to be more interesting because of what has not yet happened than what we have already seen on the track.
Yes, whatever, Marc Marquez after what he showed in 2024 has started the year by dominating. What a big surprise: only those who understand little about motorcycle racing wouldn't have expected it. OK, his brother Alex has amazed us with his speed and consistency: he has been the main antagonist so far and not Pecco Bagnaia who on the contrary has disappointed expectations by getting caught up in the difference in behavior between the GP24 and the GP25.
There has been so much talk about this that today there are those who say that the 24 is better than the 25. Yet these are the same people who said last year that the 23 and 24 were the same: so what's new?
There are always those observers however who don't recognize the reality, often in bad faith.
This is all very interesting, for goodness sake, as is the (partial) regaining of the positions that Yamaha and Honda have always deserved, with Quartararo and Zarco in evidence...yet we also expected that, didn't we? The concessions, assigned for this, are doing their (dirty) work. And if Dall'Igna complains (rightly, but politely), the show gains. And that's what matters today, mainly. As for the sport, well that's all in the background.
There are the TVs, there are the social media, and thankfully yesterday Marc Marquez's balls were finally broken about the insulting post-conference hijinks: if we say this (and write this), then we're boomers...but if he says so...hey, up there, do you realize we're talking about MotoGP? About a high-risk activity that requires even a modicum of seriousness in reporting it? We are not Cirque du Soleil.
Let's move on. And we are leaving aside what really matters: the duels on the track, the technique, to talk about what is in the air. Unspoken but in everyone's talk. A thousand questions.
The advent of Liberty Media.
We speak of advent because everyone expects the arrival of the American company to be comparable to the appearance of the Messiah on this earth. The paddock is waiting for a miracle greater than the multiplication of the loaves and fishes and the resurrection of Lazarus: it thinks that it will rain dollars from heaven, that the value of MotoGP will multiply, and that spectators will grow by the millions. The goal, the Big Dream, is F1, but the world of motorcycles is not the world of cars. If I decide to buy a Porsche and fish around in the accessories box all I can, they will deliver it to me exactly the way I wanted it. If I do the same with a Ducati, the parts of the 'basic' configuration are given to me in a cardboard box. And it is fortunate that the Euro 5+ exhaust is basically small and I can hang it on the wall. Think of an entire original exhaust from a car replaced with a nice Akrapovic: it would take up a whole wall!
That's it: that's the difference between cars and motorcycles. If you see what we mean.
But let's hope so: there is no comet star in the sky, but this is the month when the European Commission will clear all the doubts and...from the stables we will go to the stars. Maybe even Hollywood to star in a Netflix drama a la Ride to Survive. Unfortunate sports that need a TV series to be appreciated.
I also wanted to write about something else: about historic teams besieged by buyers expecting value rises, like Tech 3. About an incandescent rider market, with the arrival of Turkish star Toprak Razgatlioglu at Pramac. Who will be the champion destined to leave his seat? Jack Miller? Or someone else?
I remain of the opinion that of all the outstanding riders one is born every 10 years, and of champions there are few. Of excellent riders, on the other hand, we have some, but still from the middle of the lineup down unfortunately individuals are replaceable without too much effort.
Let's start from here, from when a rider not only had to make it to the premier class, but had to prove he deserved it. The MotoGP of substance, versus the MotoGP of appearance.
Let's put down the pen. Let's leave the blank slate on the ground. Let us follow Marc Marquez's example. Let's work for God, not Hollywood.
