Michael Scott | November 23, 2022
Cycle News In The Paddock
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What Does Suzuki’s Swan Song Mean?
In a year when Honda failed to win a single race, when Yamaha had to rely on superhuman riding to compete, when KTM struggled to consolidate its gains, and when Aprilia blazed bright only to slip back out of the limelight, Suzuki closed the season on a high.
Two wins in the last three races showed a bike and a team finding superb form. The much-admired GSX-RR, finely balanced, well-rounded and sleekly handsome in a way most of the aero-bedecked rivals had long since abandoned, was the bike to outrace even the dominant Ducatis.
All the more shocking that this was the swan song. The last cards in their hand. At least Suzuki was quitting while it was ahead.
Suzuki played a blinder when the Hamamatsu top brasses decided earlier this year that the game of MotoGP wasn’t worth the candle. Or any other flammable fuel. Citing difficult economic times and the need to concentrate on alternative power and their new electric car enterprises, they pulled the plug.
To the shock and consternation not only of their entire factory racing department (endurance and off-road as well as MotoGP), their flabbergasted riders and grand prix team, but also the whole of racing.
What could have possessed a company whose original DNA was based on the racing success of their adventurous two-strokes of the 1960s, using advanced technology acquired (with some skulduggery) from the East German MZ pioneering work of Walter Kaaden?
It’s because of a senior management far removed from the race-department shop floor, where engineering prowess bordering on genius might help build better motorbikes but has little direct relevance to the balance sheet. And it spoke also of divisions in that senior management—the decision it seems was hotly disputed before it became a fait accompli.
All the more shocking that this was the swan song. The last cards in their hand. At least Suzuki was quitting while it was ahead.
It’s not the first time Suzuki has summarily pulled out, even apart from mass withdrawal of Japanese factories at the end of the 1960s.
Suzuki did it again in the 1980s, after the square-four RG500 had achieved serial success with Barry Sheene and many others. To the dismay, for one, of Randy Mamola, at that stage twice second and once third in the championship.
A shocked Suzuki GB, which had been running the factory team, soldiered on using hand-me-down parts and their own experimental chassis. Remember the famous “cardboard box,” a pioneering exercise using honeycomb-sandwich a la current Formula 1 practice?
Then a factory U-turn delivered a new V4 in 1987—the bike that eventually took Kevin Schwantz and Kenny Roberts Jr. to the championship.
The second surprise withdrawal was in 2011. Dorna was furious, but Suzuki managed to square the breach of contract by promising it would be only temporary. And they did return in 2015, The all-new in-line four GSX-RR, despite a relatively tiny racing department and meager budget compared with Honda and Yamaha, became a race- and, in 2020, championship-winning machine.
One that the riders loved. Phillip Island and Valencia winner Alex Rins spoke of how he was in tears both before and after the final race; one-off Thai GP substitute rider Danilo Petrucci talked about how he wanted to take the bike home.
So, why did Suzuki kill it off, leaving staff and fans dismayed, and perhaps customers, too? After all, what wins on Sunday sells on Monday. And you have to be in it to win it.
Suzuki’s last champion Joan Mir asked what the company management might have been thinking, as they watched the last victory at Valencia, was bemused. “I don’t know if they will regret it. Maybe they want to invest in other things. But the image we are giving here in MotoGP, with a beautiful bike, a beautiful team … no publicity campaign can give what we are giving here.”
One answer may be found in a surprise end-of-season action demonstrating a strange management disconnection.
After the Malaysian GP, with only one race left, the race team commissioned a test of new parts. Rins for one was dumbfounded. Why spend money testing things that will never be used?
A former Suzuki insider explained. “The engineers had a budget, so they spent it. Senior management probably wouldn’t even notice.”
No details have emerged of the financial cost of leaving but having just signed a new Dorna contract until the end of 2026, the bail-out fee is likely to be considerable. Suzuki obviously consider it worthwhile.
But if Suzuki can turn their back on MotoGP so easily, what about other long-standing competitors? Honda has endured an embarrassing spell of poor results, and it pulled out themselves in 1967. A year later Yamaha followed suit. Kawasaki already set a precedent in 2009, walking away without a backward glance.
With European factories looking set to take over, who’ll be next to leave MotoGP? CN
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