I’ll be honest, I’m with the lion’s share of World Rally Championship drivers. I can’t call myself a basketball fan.
And after what I saw on Saturday night, I don’t want to be. How can it ever compare to the spectacle of a drifting Rally1 car, painting smiles on the faces of a crowd transported to cloud nine in a way not even the finest Michael Jordan three-pointer could manage?
In an arena that usually hosts basketball side CB Gran Canaria, Kalle Rovanperä, Sébastien Ogier, Thierry Neuville and co were the stars as Saturday came to a close at Rally Islas Canarias.
Normally, fan-focused stages aren’t much to write-home around. A necessary evil if you like, designed to spread the word of our chosen sport.
Not this one. Secretly, it’s the stage I’d been most looking forward to this week – and it was only a mile long.
Run for the last couple of years during the event’s European Rally Championship tenure, the main course is the basketball court. The rest of the stage is the side salad; the stadium atmosphere and donuts the meat on the bone.
DirtFish watched on as the Gran Canaria Arena erupted
“I hope you’re in the basketball court?” ERC championship manager Iain Campbell texted me. “It’s crazy in there.”
Truth is, you couldn’t keep me out of there – not if I had my way. Only time constraints and the need to get back to base would eventually tear me away.
It’s perhaps fair to say that my enthusiasm wasn’t shared among the world’s most gifted drivers though.
With the exception of Ott Tänak who felt “it sounds like a bit of fun”, it was trepidation over excitement.
“Well, I would rather watch an NBA game in the US than drive on it with a rally car!” Ogier remarked.
Evans hoped “my driving’s better than my basketball skills” while Takamoto Katsuta outlined the challenge.
“I’m not playing so much [basketball], so I don’t know what the grip level is,” he smiled, “but that looks very slippery.
“I’m very, very, very happy that it’s not raining today, as if it’s wet and the car carries some water in there, it’s crazy. But still, I think it’s slippery.”
Katsuta accurately predicted that the stage would be slippery
Spoiler alert: it was.
Entering the arena just off the start, drivers were faced with a double donut around a canister before holding the slide through a tight 180-spin arrangement around some plastic barriers.
It’s the sort of thing they tend to hate – somewhere they can lose the rally, not win it. But it’s the sort of thing that casual spectators love. And so did I.
On a night where most of Spain’s attention was on El Clásico (the Barcelona vs Real Madrid soccer match), this was the real ticket in town. And plenty had realized it – the service park bouncing (as it has been all week it must be said) with energy and anticipation as crowds flocked their way towards the show.
I made sure I was one of them.
It was impossible not to get lost in the vibe. My gurning grin could not be contained
I’ve been fortunate enough to witness some brilliant stadium moments in my time. Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour and Leigh Griffiths’ free kick double against England instantly spring to mind – but add a spice of rally into life and things clearly improve.
Las Palmas de Gran Canaria represented the perfect entertainment. A moment to revel in the assault on the senses only the WRC can provide.
The energy was electric. The stadium announcer calling the names of Toyota’s finest as they paraded the stadium was wild – the crowds lapping it up in a manner I’ve never before experienced at a rally.
Mexican waves, subtle light shows, bouncing music, it was impossible not to get lost in the vibe. Running up the stairs to claim a better vantage point, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. My gurning grin could not be contained.
Alexey Lukyanuk, the course car driver this weekend, opened the show. But for a warm-up act he was strong – beautifully controlling his Hyundai i20 N Rally2 around the arena that may have well been an ice rink.
But let me tell you: Rally1 cars are loud. We’re both rally fans, of course you knew that. But wait until you hear one sliding around in front of you, driver’s foot mashing the throttle and creating a cacophony of anti-lag and brute force.
Drivers had to complete two donuts within the crowd-filled stadium
Even still, the cheers couldn’t be silenced – particularly when Adrien Fourmaux stalled his Hyundai at the donut. I yearned for more. This was a level of intoxication not even Guanajuato at Rally México could give me.
Perhaps that is recency bias talking, but the Canaries organizers absolutely nailed this one. It was an actual experience – not just a car park filled with cones designed to coax the more casual fan into viewing.
And not a stadium that housed a race between two cars either. Of course they have their charm, but by bringing a car into view for 10 seconds every few minutes, you don’t lose your attention span. Instead you’re hyped up, ready for the next instalment.
As far as the rally is concerned, Rovanperä’s stage-winning streak finally came to an end as Evans put his name to the top of the timesheets.
But honestly, who cares? Motorsport is action, and motorsport is sound. When you’ve just been treated to a show like that, does anything else really matter?
