Most of us who write in Bleacher's F1 section have had something to say about Max Mosley. He is a big figure on our landscape, and I'm sure he would not object to me saying he has often been controversial.
However, none of us would use the terms this blogger employs. Warning: Strong language, may cause shock, palpitations, or sudden hair loss. It made me giggle though.
On the numerous F1 websites, and in the F1 print media, all talk is of Max and Bernie, of power struggles and bitter management rivalries. Of course it is, there's bugger-all else happening in F1.
I ask you, what kind of sport has a three-week break during the season?
Tennis fans get to see their heroes in action quite frequently. Soccer provides huge number of matches, but F1 has its supporters on iron rations.
And when we do experience the occasional F1 Grand Prix, it's almost invariably a dull procession in which the first three drivers on the grid circumnavigate the track for a tedious two hours before standing briefly on the podium. After that they can go off and have some fun, perhaps hire some naked girls to count their money.
Because F1 has been letting me down so badly I have been turning more and more to other sports, and to Moto GP in particular. Now that is racing, that is real motor sport, and the contestants are not the effete posers we see in F1.
When a Moto GP racer gets thrown off his machine at immense speed he hurls through the air like a rag doll, strikes the ground, and rolls for a few hundred yards. Is he then helicoptered to a medical centre for tea and sympathy? No sir, he is chucked into the back of a golf cart and taken to his garage to collect a spare machine.
Who runs Moto GP? I don't know, and I don't care. Of course I could easily look it up, but I don't care to, because it is a sport that delivers engrossing races every time out, and any backroom machinations are of no interest.
So later on I'll put a (vegetarian) pizza in the oven, and settle down to watch the Moto GP race at Laguna Seca. Now that is a race track, Bernie would hate it.
It is an absolute certainty that the race will be full of heart-in-the-mouth action. Young racers with incredible courage will lean their motorcycles over at 170MPH as they battle for track position, and quite possibly the excitement will cause me to choke on my pizza.
Choking is not the only hazard I will face. The pizza will be loaded with fat and cholesterol, but so what if it kills me? At least I'll die happy.
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