Cycle News In The Paddock
COLUMN
The Vinales Affair
“I am a warrior.” This was the most poignant remark in Maverick Vinales’ chastened (you might say “groveling”) apology to Yamaha, banished to the sidelines of the Austrian GP, after his controversial attempt to blow up his bike the week before.
He splurged on humble pie, apologizing about how his emotions got the better of him, in a difficult afternoon. He’d started strongly in the race, only for it to be red-flagged after just three laps. The restart was one disaster after another. Stalling on the grid before the warm-up lap meant a back-of-the-grid start. He’d made up a few places only then to suffer a long-lap penalty for straying over track limits: very easily done at the Red Bull Ring. Back in last place, his frustration boiled over.
His humble apologies, coming as they did after the most difficult of seasons so far, were not enough to save his job at the team for which he has claimed eight wins in four-and-a-bit years. Finishing the Styrian GP in the pits brought to an end to his last ride on a factory Yamaha.
Another twist in an extraordinary saga.
Extraordinary because of this ex-Moto3 champion and multiple GP winner’s wildly variable results this year—he finished first at Doha, ran pole-to-second at Assen, but came plumb last in Germany and Styria.
Extraordinary because of his mid-term abandonment of his two-year Yamaha contract. Rather than see it through, he decided to bail out at the end of this year.
Extraordinary because longtime ally and crew chief Esteban Garcia (Vinales’ choice, after working with him in Moto3) had already paid the price, unceremoniously dumped earlier this season.
And extraordinary because he can hardly have expected his intentionally destructive over-revving and “emotional storm” to pass unobserved, with all the onboard and on-screen monitoring.
There is a precedent. In 1993, John Kocinski was sacked from the Lucky Strike Suzuki 250 team, accused of deliberately trashing the bike on an Assen slow-down lap. This immediately terminated an increasingly rancorous relationship.
But that was different. Former 250 champion Kocinski didn’t admit anything, nor apologize. He continued to repeat those denials. A tweet in the wake of Vinales’ suspension (apparently from a fan rather than the man) explained the bike had stopped on the slow-down lap because a sprocket failed and the chain fell off. He’d parked it and walked away, (he might, though he didn’t mention it, have revved it up noisily in the process. Or that might have happened spontaneously.)
I wrote press material for the team at the time, and shall never forget Kocinski’s sincerity that evening, when he insisted to me: “I didn’t damage the bike. I have never even bashed a fuel tank after a bad race.” He was so adamant that I wanted to believe him, and still do. But team boss Herve Poncharal (now head of IRTA, boss of the Tech3 KTM team, and a consummate politician) was equally adamant that John had deliberately blown the bike up. There were no onboard electronics to reveal the truth.
To be honest, that Suzuki was a bit… primitive, up against the polished opposition, and there was some basis to his growing discontent and criticism. But they sat badly with a prestigious team and factory for whom Kevin Schwantz was winning the 500 title. They were, without doubt, glad of an excuse to get rid of him.
Likewise Yamaha, currently set fair for the same success with Quartararo, and hardly enjoying the moody Spaniard’s sulks, highlighted by his petulant performance shunning their one-two celebrations at Assen. Like Kocinski, Vinales has a history: publicly storming out of his “unsupportive” Moto3 team in 2012, then also forced into a public apology.
“Moody,” in woke-speak, is another way of saying “mental health issues,” a phenomenon far from unknown in the high-stress world of top-level sports, as shown by U.S. Olympic gymnast Simone Biles and Japanese tennis star Naomi Osaka.
In these cases, and again with woke sensitivities, they have mainly been dealt with supportively.
Although not universally. There is another point of view: that these people (Vinales included) have a dream job. They should suck it up and shut up. Taking it out on your team or equipment—simply unforgivable.
There is food for thought here. I believe Yamaha had a chance to offer the troubled rider realistic and sympathetic psychological support. The same is true for MotoGP.
The bike has a rev-limiter, and it’s not that easy to break it. Shouldn’t we look after the riders, and let the machinery suck it up?
There is another aspect—a melt-down by a tennis player or gymnast affects only themselves. It’s potentially risky, however, in among a pack of fellow nutters on MotoGP bikes.
Perhaps Yamaha didn’t really have a choice. Vinales had to go.
Next year, he will be Aprilia’s problem instead.CN
Click here to read the In The Paddock Column in the Cycle News Digital Edition Magazine.
Click here for all the latest MotoGP news.
