From the son of ‘Hollywood’ comes the biggest plot twist in the history of the World Rally Championship.
Have you actually taken in what happened on the final Sunday of the season?
Forget Carlos Sainz in Margam Park or Yas Marina five years ago. On a wider sporting front, forget Michael Thomas in the 91st minute or even Sergio Agüero in the 94th minute.
Nothing comes close to the drama that played out in the third to last corner of the season in Sassari, Sardinia on Sunday. And it’s hard to imagine that anything ever will.
While it’s the corner that took everything from Oliver Solberg and Elliott Edmondson, it’s the corner that keeps on giving in terms of entertainment. We’ve seen it from every angle now, including the astonishing onboard, complete with Solberg’s heartbreaking apologies.
Elfyn Evans celebrated his first World Rally Championship title after the most dramatic season conclusion ever in Sardinia
And we’ve seen triumph being torn from the arms of tragedy as second after commiserating with his boy, Gwyndaf Evans grabs his son by the shoulders and simply yells: “You’re a champion!”
Coming off the back of a new WRC promoter and Ford’s return, this moment arrives and, you sense, the world beginning to wake to what we live and love on a daily basis. Images of that Swedish-flagged Toyota diving off the road and through the Italian undergrowth were beamed to telephones and televisions, followed instantly by the graphic human reaction to both agony and ecstasy.
Yes, that was a defining moment in our sport. But to those who came for the car crash, probably worth checking out what went on for the couple of days beforehand. Sardinia is somewhere that showcases our sport beautifully.
Look at the section after the hairpin left on that final stage – the pictures don’t do justice to just how steep that run down towards the beach is. Gravity helps hurl the cars downhill, all the time the drivers are feathering the throttle, desperate to give it more, but everything is at the absolute limit: the suspension’s compressed to its bump stops, nothing more to give; beads are screaming as ruts try to rip tires from rims and inside, the co-driver calls corner after corner. Ice cool. Calm as you like.
A devastated 2003 world champion Petter Solberg reflects on what might have been for his boy
Our sport defies belief. Before every stage, spectators build themselves a mental picture of what’s coming. Then rallying blows it apart and leaves them dumbfounded. Welcome to our world.
At the end of a long and slightly insane Sunday, I treated myself to a beer and the highlights of the Bahrain Grand Prix in Malaysia. After a couple of dull races in Spain and Azerbaijan, a wet one would be worth watching. Maybe it was the backdrop of what we’d shown the world hours earlier, but the sight of cars squirming to get slowed down with a bit of side-by-side really didn’t do it for me. I love Formula 1. I love the show, the entertainment and, from time-to-time, the racing.
Sepang came as the starkest of contrasts to what we’d watched down on the beach in Sardinia.
It’s hard to imagine a family that has more collected fever and more passion for rallying than the Solbergs. That it’s their life has long been their mantra. So, it is perhaps fitting that it’s Oliver who delivers a moment of drama that must be built on, contextualized and used to help carry the sport forwards. Interest has been piqued. Now, it must be profited from.
