The official Japanese GP ROTR

[DOSBoot]

2. Perez: Beaten by both Torro Rossos, and both Force Indias.

That's not fair. Perez got a puncture in an accident with Rosberg and lost at least a 9th or 10th.

But considering how bad the two teams have become recently, that is pretty embarrassing.

[davekartclub]

Ferrari - "strategy A (please)" coded radio message from Rob Smedley to Felippe Massa. Hardly "Enigma" !

[Salamander]

Ferrari - "strategy A (please)" coded radio message from Rob Smedley to Felippe Massa. Hardly "Enigma" !

What.

[watka]

Not a lot to pick out really. I would say that Lotus are guilty of being out-strategised, Massa had a poor race and Rosberg's pit incident with Perez was basic error, but my vote goes to van der Garde for having a terrible weekend and taking out Bianchi in the first corner.

[dinizintheoven]

I have a very odd nomination for Reject Of The Race: my toilet.

OK, I admit it, two days of almost solid drinking at my local beer festival followed by an all-day gig in Leeds left me rather incapacitated and in no fit state to get up at ridiculous o'clock and watch the race live, so I stayed in bed, got up near lunchtime and sat down to watch the race. I needed to do what Kimi Räikkönen is famous for doing first, and it was then that the vicious and vindictive cludgie saw fit to strike me down. The flush doesn't work brilliantly, and needs a hard shove to get it to work properly. It seems my forceful flush was one too many as the lever snapped in my hand, and no sooner had I seen it crash onto the lid than I felt something odd... then looked at my left hand and saw a sight that only a surgeon should ever see.

DO NOT LOOK AT THIS LINK if you are in any way scared by the sight of blood and gore. You have been warned. I will not be responsible for the fallout.

Tell me, have you ever seen the internal bits and pieces that lie beneath your own skin? I have. The ragged metal edge of the lever had gone through my hand like an angle grinder. So, instead of spending the next six hours watching the qualifying and race, I dragged myself to A&E, with my right ankle still not entirely recovered from last weekend's mishap in the wild woods of Cornwall, and to my utter dismay, the BBC News Channel was on the screen that also showed how long the wait would be for a practice nurse (although it would jump from 73 minutes to 22 and then 103, 17, 93... it was useless). I have a strange hearing problem which means I can never usually pick out one conversation amongst many others, but this usually happens in the pub where everyone is talking over each other; the crowds more than occasionally thinned to the point that the BBC were broadcasting the day's stories loud and clear over the other patients who had decided to sit in near-silence. I was willing more people to start talking, even the Poles sitting next to me, it didn't matter if I couldn't understand a word they were saying, at least it'd mask the dreaded "...and now to the day's sports news! Here's Rob Bonnet with a spoiler of the Grand Prix result!"

You really have no idea how hard I had to concentrate, how hard I had to ram my fingers in my ears, and how hard I had to pick out other people's conversations, all the time while wondering if I'd be called to have the inch-long gash in my hand sewn back together. In the end, I was in there for two and a half hours, mostly waiting in front of that infernal screen that was ready and poised to blab the result at me when there was no way I could switch it off. The other patients must have thought I was mad with my fingers hard in my ears. Even so I managed to catch "Ferrari's Fernando Alonso... mumble mumble mumble... Sebastian Vettel... mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble..." before finally looking up to see a rugby team on the screen.

I sort-of-assumed that Alonso had won. In a way the result made me not annoyed as it should - at least Fingerboy didn't have this race all his own way, no matter what foil-hatted conspiracy theories have come up since then. It meant all that time in front of a rolling news service hadn't ruined the result.

But if I hadn't had to flush the khazi all this hassle could have been avoided - or, at least, postponed to a time where I'd already seen the race and could have watched the News Channel for some kind of entertainment rather than desperately trying to block out its presence.

Up in the morning I get, searching for a replacement handle, that had better not make a repeat performance.

[kevinbotz]

I have a very odd nomination for Reject Of The Race: my toilet.

OK, I admit it, two days of almost solid drinking at my local beer festival followed by an all-day gig in Leeds left me rather incapacitated and in no fit state to get up at ridiculous o'clock and watch the race live, so I stayed in bed, got up near lunchtime and sat down to watch the race. I needed to do what Kimi Räikkönen is famous for doing first, and it was then that the vicious and vindictive cludgie saw fit to strike me down. The flush doesn't work brilliantly, and needs a hard shove to get it to work properly. It seems my forceful flush was one too many as the lever snapped in my hand, and no sooner had I seen it crash onto the lid than I felt something odd... then looked at my left hand and saw a sight that only a surgeon should ever see.

DO NOT LOOK AT THIS LINK if you are in any way scared by the sight of blood and gore. You have been warned. I will not be responsible for the fallout.

Tell me, have you ever seen the internal bits and pieces that lie beneath your own skin? I have. The ragged metal edge of the lever had gone through my hand like an angle grinder. So, instead of spending the next six hours watching the qualifying and race, I dragged myself to A&E, with my right ankle still not entirely recovered from last weekend's mishap in the wild woods of Cornwall, and to my utter dismay, the BBC News Channel was on the screen that also showed how long the wait would be for a practice nurse (although it would jump from 73 minutes to 22 and then 103, 17, 93... it was useless). I have a strange hearing problem which means I can never usually pick out one conversation amongst many others, but this usually happens in the pub where everyone is talking over each other; the crowds more than occasionally thinned to the point that the BBC were broadcasting the day's stories loud and clear over the other patients who had decided to sit in near-silence. I was willing more people to start talking, even the Poles sitting next to me, it didn't matter if I couldn't understand a word they were saying, at least it'd mask the dreaded "...and now to the day's sports news! Here's Rob Bonnet with a spoiler of the Grand Prix result!"

You really have no idea how hard I had to concentrate, how hard I had to ram my fingers in my ears, and how hard I had to pick out other people's conversations, all the time while wondering if I'd be called to have the inch-long gash in my hand sewn back together. In the end, I was in there for two and a half hours, mostly waiting in front of that infernal screen that was ready and poised to blab the result at me when there was no way I could switch it off. The other patients must have thought I was mad with my fingers hard in my ears. Even so I managed to catch "Ferrari's Fernando Alonso... mumble mumble mumble... Sebastian Vettel... mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble..." before finally looking up to see a rugby team on the screen.

I sort-of-assumed that Alonso had won. In a way the result made me not annoyed as it should - at least Fingerboy didn't have this race all his own way, no matter what foil-hatted conspiracy theories have come up since then. It meant all that time in front of a rolling news service hadn't ruined the result.

But if I hadn't had to flush the khazi all this hassle could have been avoided - or, at least, postponed to a time where I'd already seen the race and could have watched the News Channel for some kind of entertainment rather than desperately trying to block out its presence.

Up in the morning I get, searching for a replacement handle, that had better not make a repeat performance.

Oh god. The dry heaves. Oh, the dry heaves.

Damn my curiosity.

[Cynon]

I have a very odd nomination for Reject Of The Race: my toilet.

The picture didn't disgust me, but maybe that's because I've had that happen to me before. Regardless... yeah. I can agree with this nomination, and if anyone else doesn't... then you're a liberal fascist communist that needs to get out of 'merica. Or something like that.

[Aerospeed]

I'd have to agree - the toilet seems to be the runaway candidate here.

[Hound55]

I have a very odd nomination for Reject Of The Race: my toilet.

Damn. Sorry that happened. I have never done anything like that to myself, so I'm not even sure how much that hurts. Sorry, hope it heals quickly.

[roblo97]

I have a very odd nomination for Reject Of The Race: my toilet.

OK, I admit it, two days of almost solid drinking at my local beer festival followed by an all-day gig in Leeds left me rather incapacitated and in no fit state to get up at ridiculous o'clock and watch the race live, so I stayed in bed, got up near lunchtime and sat down to watch the race. I needed to do what Kimi Räikkönen is famous for doing first, and it was then that the vicious and vindictive cludgie saw fit to strike me down. The flush doesn't work brilliantly, and needs a hard shove to get it to work properly. It seems my forceful flush was one too many as the lever snapped in my hand, and no sooner had I seen it crash onto the lid than I felt something odd... then looked at my left hand and saw a sight that only a surgeon should ever see.

DO NOT LOOK AT THIS LINK if you are in any way scared by the sight of blood and gore. You have been warned. I will not be responsible for the fallout.

Tell me, have you ever seen the internal bits and pieces that lie beneath your own skin? I have. The ragged metal edge of the lever had gone through my hand like an angle grinder. So, instead of spending the next six hours watching the qualifying and race, I dragged myself to A&E, with my right ankle still not entirely recovered from last weekend's mishap in the wild woods of Cornwall, and to my utter dismay, the BBC News Channel was on the screen that also showed how long the wait would be for a practice nurse (although it would jump from 73 minutes to 22 and then 103, 17, 93... it was useless). I have a strange hearing problem which means I can never usually pick out one conversation amongst many others, but this usually happens in the pub where everyone is talking over each other; the crowds more than occasionally thinned to the point that the BBC were broadcasting the day's stories loud and clear over the other patients who had decided to sit in near-silence. I was willing more people to start talking, even the Poles sitting next to me, it didn't matter if I couldn't understand a word they were saying, at least it'd mask the dreaded "...and now to the day's sports news! Here's Rob Bonnet with a spoiler of the Grand Prix result!"

You really have no idea how hard I had to concentrate, how hard I had to ram my fingers in my ears, and how hard I had to pick out other people's conversations, all the time while wondering if I'd be called to have the inch-long gash in my hand sewn back together. In the end, I was in there for two and a half hours, mostly waiting in front of that infernal screen that was ready and poised to blab the result at me when there was no way I could switch it off. The other patients must have thought I was mad with my fingers hard in my ears. Even so I managed to catch "Ferrari's Fernando Alonso... mumble mumble mumble... Sebastian Vettel... mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble..." before finally looking up to see a rugby team on the screen.

I sort-of-assumed that Alonso had won. In a way the result made me not annoyed as it should - at least Fingerboy didn't have this race all his own way, no matter what foil-hatted conspiracy theories have come up since then. It meant all that time in front of a rolling news service hadn't ruined the result.

But if I hadn't had to flush the khazi all this hassle could have been avoided - or, at least, postponed to a time where I'd already seen the race and could have watched the News Channel for some kind of entertainment rather than desperately trying to block out its presence.

Up in the morning I get, searching for a replacement handle, that had better not make a repeat performance.

This is the greatest ROTR of all time

[madmark1974]

Despite dinizintheoven's misadventures (not that you don't have my sympathies), I'm going to go for Pastor Maldonado.

Crashed in Practise, beaten by Bottas in Qualifying, running round pretty much at the back all race, then gets PASTA RAAAGE at the end, just to prove some kind of point,
which was only going to upset the rest of his team as well as Bottas, then gets all aggressive about it in the interviews afterwards. The guy has no likeability factor at all.

[SgtPepper]

Oh god. The dry heaves. Oh, the dry heaves.

Damn my curiosity.

Sometimes I forget just how much years of frequenting 4chan has desensitised me to these things.

[FullMetalJack]

Please Jamie and Enoch, please give the toilet ROTR.

[dinizintheoven]

For all those of you dry-heaving, remember this: that picture is not the worst of it. The wound had started bleeding profusely before I had any access to a camera, but had there been one right next to me at the time (little chance of that, mind, as it was in the bathroom) there might have been a different picture that shows exactly what all the nerves and tendons and blood vessels underneath look like. Anyone who's still curious (not kevinbotz, obviously) should look up Stuart Ashen's "Noseybonk Returns" series on YouTube and watch with horror throughout the "Cake" episode. OK, so *that* is all make-up, but don't say I didn't warn you... again.

The picture didn't disgust me, but maybe that's because I've had that happen to me before. Regardless... yeah. I can agree with this nomination, and if anyone else doesn't... then you're a liberal fascist communist that needs to get out of 'merica. Or something like that.

All the time I was sitting in that waiting room, one of the thoughts going through my head was "hey, at least I'm not in America!" Sure, I'd receive the same standard of medical care, but I suspect it'd cost me north of a hundred dollars to do so, at a time when I can least afford it.

At least I have a new lever for the khazi, and five days' worth of dramatic dressings for my hand. Just have to fit it now... and this may involve a hacksaw to remove what remains of the old mechanism. Wish me luck. I may need it.

[lgaquino]

So many nominations for hamilton's early puncture.. I find it weird, because for me he didn't do anything wrong.
He made a great start [compared to the redbulls] and went for a gap in the middle. The gap was tight-ish, but it was surely there.
It's only because of grosjean went as if he had renault's 2004 traction control that he got squeezed. But that's hindsight..

From lewis' perspective, I dont think he could see grosjean. So the move was "correct"


As for my nomination:

Rosberg's ridiculously unsafe release
Massa's habbit of finishing the race way behind he started

[dr-baker]

What happened to this? Certainly there was absolutely nothing during the podium ceremony to indicate that they were doing anything different at all to commemorate Maria, and either TV missed totally the one minute silence, or it didn't happen. This is what disappointed me most today.

Sky F1 showed a clip of the one minute silence which happened a long time before the race start (they showed it at about 1 hour before the race start I think, so it must have happened some time before that)

No idea about the podium. I can't bear Eddie Jordan so I fast forwarded through the whole thing!

OK, thanks for sharing that. I was just assuming that it was going to be around 10 minutes before the scheduled race start, so I am reassured that that happened.

However, the fact that we have had the first F1 driver fatality this weekend since Ayrton Senna, and the podium ceremony went ahead as per normal still kinda upset me, particularly after all the references I have read, stating how F1 is apparently a close-knit community and stuff.

But the toilet story, well, sounds like that you really did have a shite weekend, dinizintheoven...

[Londoner]

But the toilet story, well, sounds like that you really did have a shite weekend, dinizintheoven...

Good word, Dr Baker using tawdry language on the F1 Rejects forum? The end of the world really is nigh.

[dr-baker]

But the toilet story, well, sounds like that you really did have a shite weekend, dinizintheoven...

Good word, Dr Baker using tawdry language on the F1 Rejects forum? The end of the world really is nigh.

Just didn't think the word 'poopy' sounded quite right in context. Or maybe it does?

[mario]

2. The FIA Stewards. The decision with Ricciardo was absurd. I believe Rosberg's penalty was for his contact with Pérez, not the unsafe release (correct me if I'm wrong), but if so, that is stupid, as Pérez didn't leave Rosberg room to drive. But if the unsafe release was not penalized, that's one nail on the coffin. I liked Ricciardo's quote from a Will Buxton interview, "I am pissed off."

The penalty for Rosberg was indeed for an unsafe release, not for his contact with Perez. As for Ricciardo, the argument from the stewards was that Ricciardo could only complete the pass because he was able to maintain his position and momentum from running off the track at that point.

[takagi_for_the_win]

I have a very odd nomination for Reject Of The Race: my toilet.

OK, I admit it, two days of almost solid drinking at my local beer festival followed by an all-day gig in Leeds left me rather incapacitated and in no fit state to get up at ridiculous o'clock and watch the race live, so I stayed in bed, got up near lunchtime and sat down to watch the race. I needed to do what Kimi Räikkönen is famous for doing first, and it was then that the vicious and vindictive cludgie saw fit to strike me down. The flush doesn't work brilliantly, and needs a hard shove to get it to work properly. It seems my forceful flush was one too many as the lever snapped in my hand, and no sooner had I seen it crash onto the lid than I felt something odd... then looked at my left hand and saw a sight that only a surgeon should ever see.

DO NOT LOOK AT THIS LINK if you are in any way scared by the sight of blood and gore. You have been warned. I will not be responsible for the fallout.

Tell me, have you ever seen the internal bits and pieces that lie beneath your own skin? I have. The ragged metal edge of the lever had gone through my hand like an angle grinder. So, instead of spending the next six hours watching the qualifying and race, I dragged myself to A&E, with my right ankle still not entirely recovered from last weekend's mishap in the wild woods of Cornwall, and to my utter dismay, the BBC News Channel was on the screen that also showed how long the wait would be for a practice nurse (although it would jump from 73 minutes to 22 and then 103, 17, 93... it was useless). I have a strange hearing problem which means I can never usually pick out one conversation amongst many others, but this usually happens in the pub where everyone is talking over each other; the crowds more than occasionally thinned to the point that the BBC were broadcasting the day's stories loud and clear over the other patients who had decided to sit in near-silence. I was willing more people to start talking, even the Poles sitting next to me, it didn't matter if I couldn't understand a word they were saying, at least it'd mask the dreaded "...and now to the day's sports news! Here's Rob Bonnet with a spoiler of the Grand Prix result!"

You really have no idea how hard I had to concentrate, how hard I had to ram my fingers in my ears, and how hard I had to pick out other people's conversations, all the time while wondering if I'd be called to have the inch-long gash in my hand sewn back together. In the end, I was in there for two and a half hours, mostly waiting in front of that infernal screen that was ready and poised to blab the result at me when there was no way I could switch it off. The other patients must have thought I was mad with my fingers hard in my ears. Even so I managed to catch "Ferrari's Fernando Alonso... mumble mumble mumble... Sebastian Vettel... mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble..." before finally looking up to see a rugby team on the screen.

I sort-of-assumed that Alonso had won. In a way the result made me not annoyed as it should - at least Fingerboy didn't have this race all his own way, no matter what foil-hatted conspiracy theories have come up since then. It meant all that time in front of a rolling news service hadn't ruined the result.

But if I hadn't had to flush the khazi all this hassle could have been avoided - or, at least, postponed to a time where I'd already seen the race and could have watched the News Channel for some kind of entertainment rather than desperately trying to block out its presence.

Up in the morning I get, searching for a replacement handle, that had better not make a repeat performance.

If this doesn't get ROTR, there is something badly wrong with this forum

[dinizintheoven]

And it's a one-off chance. The rejectful bog handle has now been replaced with one that does what it's supposed to do without needing excessive force, and despite probably having 25 years of life in it, no way will I be in this same house by that time, and whoever moves in next will take one look at the bathroom and completely gut it.

It's now or never!

[watka]

And it's a one-off chance. The rejectful bog handle has now been replaced with one that does what it's supposed to do without needing excessive force, and despite probably having 25 years of life in it, no way will I be in this same house by that time, and whoever moves in next will take one look at the bathroom and completely gut it.

It's now or never!

Is it now a button mechanism? Whilst far safer, it just doesn't give the satisfaction of a lever, or indeed the humble chain. And since I mentioned The Chain, this comment is not completely off topic.

[CoopsII]

This thread has developed into proof positive that the forum is going down the pan

[dr-baker]

This thread has developed into proof positive that the forum is going down the pan

Now I'm feeling flushed with embarrassement, that was so crap!

[DOSBoot]

This thread has developed into proof positive that the forum is going down the pan

Now I'm feeling flushed with embarrassement, that was so crap!

It really looks like............



..............urine trouble now.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

[eytl]

Official result time ...

Sorry guys, I would have loved to have given it to dinizintheoven's toilet, but while it was an epic tale I'm afraid that's a little bit too much of an in-joke unless you happen to have been following this thread ...

And for the first time I actually made a decision, uploaded it, and then decided to reverse it ...

At first I took the boring line and gave it to Mercedes - even though a lot of the incidents that happened during the Japanese GP weren't actually their fault, they were just having one of those days where it doesn't matter what you try, it goes pear-shaped, given Hamilton's clash with Vettel, his early DNF, Rosberg's unsafe pit exit, Nico's clash with Perez, and his inability to get past Gutierrez at the end.

I also considered giving it to Perez for his scruffy weekend, and to Maldonado for his last lap banzai on his team-mate, but in relation to the latter when I looked at the replay I actually thought it was a fair move ... just about.

But in the end I switched my decision and have given it in a joint-result to Jules Bianchi and Giedo van der Garde. I don't care whose fault it was for their first corner collision. The point is, it was a glorious re-enactment of Senna v Prost from 1990 (including the fact it was the red car being hit), and from the two back-of-the-grid teams as well. Too good to ignore!