I’m writing this while tearing through the Nagoya suburbs at 179mph. What’s not to love about the Shinkansen? What’s not to love about Japan? And what wasn’t to love about that final round of the World Rally Championship.
Just when you thought it might become processional, just when you thought you might be able to guess what was coming next… there was another twist. Another turn.
Before we go any further, I’d like to offer enormous congratulations to Thierry Neuville, Martijn Wydaeghe and the Hyundai team. And to Toyota, Sami Pajari and Enni Mälkönen. There was plenty up for grabs on the roads in and around the Aichi and Gifu prefectures last week and the stories of how those series were sewn up are some of the best.
Where to start? At the end is probably the most sensible place; the powerstage. Who could possibly have written a script which took Hyundai and Toyota to the season’s final test provisionally tied at the top of the table? That’s just silly. Hollywood have laughed in your face. But that’s exactly what happened.
Like you, I’ve kind of struggled to get excited about the makes’ race. As fans, we’re all about the drivers’ championship. What’s beneath the champ, what’s powering them to the top of the world is, apparently, less important. Less glam. That was not the case on Sunday.
Thierry Neuville finally securing a first world championship title after five runners-up finishes was, surprisingly, not the main narrative come Sunday afternoon
With Neuville’s title confirmed the moment Ott Tänak’s Hyundai i20 N Rally1 deviated from its preferred path on Sunday morning, the Belgians could start their celebrations. Through the stage and changing a tire at the side of the road, the call came through the Neuville. Tänak was in a ditch and going nowhere. The reaction?
“We had a quick hug, but then we had to focus, the team needed us,” Neuville told DirtFish.
And, once again, he delivered for the team – as he has done all season long. But this time it wasn’t quite enough.
Whoever helped themselves to more of the five points on offer from the final test would be crowned champion. A whole year came down to 8.63 miles, starting from the shores of Lake Mikawako, south of Toyota, north of Shinshiro. As soon as Andreas Mikkelsen rattled his Hyundai through the trees, the game looked to be up. As soon as Takamoto Katsuta went quicker, it almost was. As soon as Sébastien Ogier went fastest of all, it was really nearly done and the moment Elfyn Evans crossed the line to win the rally (remember that concept? He was the was one with the shortest accumulated time, the one at the top of the overall classification) it was.
The relief in Toyota was extraordinary. The disappointment in Hyundai excruciating. There’s some who think a picture can speak a thousand words. As you can imagine, I’m not necessarily one of them, but I think in this case, I might agree.
The winner-takes-all powerstage led to far more excitement for the manufacturers' title battle than expect
After enjoying Hyundai Motor Group executive chair Euisun Chung’s hospitality at last month’s Hyundai event at Yong-in, Toyota Motor Company chairman Akio Toyoda was happy to sit down and watch the powerstage with their respective team principals Cyril Abiteboul and Jari-Matti Latvala. Let’s be honest, it was always going to be something of an awkward moment. And so it transpired. When Elfyn Evans crossed the line to win the rally and confirm the fourth successive title, half the tent was delighted. The other half, less so.
What happened on Sunday will be talked about for a very long time. So, here’s the question: does that justify a season of utter confusion about who’s winning what and when? Does this now mean that we don’t mind the devaluation of a rally win in the pursuit of theatre and drama?
No.
The utter bewilderment on faces as we tried to explain to folk what was going on through Sunday was too much. Next year the whole Saturday points thing will be binned and winning a rally will once again mean something. But let’s not be too critical of the points idea, something needed to change, it changed and now it will evolve into something even better.
This corner of cyberspace was supposed to be reserved for a celebration of our newly crowned world champions, not the consideration of what on earth was going through a Nissan driver’s mind when he rolled the metaphorical dice and played with the lives of three people.
Talking of evolving into something better, there’s one aspect of Rally Japan that needs to do just that. What happened when a Nissan minibus made its way the wrong way down the stage to the start on SS12 on Saturday was a heinous breach of security.
Just as it was two years ago, when it happened last time. I think I’ve been as clear as I possibly could be that I love Japan, the rally and the people who dedicate so much time to giving us a unique round of the world championship.
But… closed-road stage rallying is built on the absolute foundation that the road is just that: closed. When a driver drops the clutch off the line, they do so with full faith that the organisers have taken all the security measures necessary to ensure nothing and nobody will be coming around that corner in the wrong direction. It’s a pre-requisite, a given, an absolute. It is non-negotiable.
FIA road sport director Andrew Wheatley was – and occasionally still is – a rally driver. He understands completely that implicit faith placed in the organisers when the countdown gets to go. Wheatley agreed without reservation that Saturday was unacceptable, but a €50,00 fine?
I’m not sure that’s enough. And suspending a fine of a further €100,000 is equally ill-fitting; surely if there’s a third car making its way up or down a live stage, that would have to be it for Japan? Personally, I would have liked to have seen some more robust language around this one: this needed forthright condemnation with an indication that the door to the last chance saloon had just swung shut behind the organisers.
Scott Martin, sat aboard Elfyn Evans' Yaris, was first to point out to rally control that a van had entered a live stage – a damning indication the rally organizers still aren't fully switched on to keeping stages secure
And it truly pains me to say that. This corner of cyberspace was supposed to be reserved for a celebration of our newly crowned world champions, not the consideration of what on earth was going through a Nissan driver’s mind when he rolled the metaphorical dice and played with the lives of three people.
Enough now. Let’s get back to the good stuff. Like the number of people about the place. Being a Brit, I thought I knew a thing or two about a good queue. Being back in Toyota City reminded me we’ve still got some work to do. If you want to see a perfectly formed line of perfectly ordered people, head east. Far east.
From early morning Thursday, fans queued for gates opening at 1100. Watching the lights turn green, Hiro was one of the first in. We wanted to talk to him, but he was a man on a mission. So we walked (ridiculously quickly) and talked. His English was embarrassingly comprehensive as he zeroed in on his target.
“Autograph,” he grinned. “Direct to autograph.” Flicking his phone open, he zoomed in on a digital map and showed us the location of the autograph session.
“Here, we go here.”
Arriving there, he giggled. He was first in line. Did he mind waiting a couple of hours to meet his heroes?
No queue is too long for the Japanese fans when their WRC heroes are in town
“No!” he laughed. “Already I wait four hours to come in this morning.”
On that, he opened his bag and pulled out a file of photographs, a sharpie and, of course, a spare sharpie in case the first one misfired.
Hiro’s enthusiasm was everywhere around Toyota City Stadium, the place was packed with happy, smiling and very awesome rally fans who were grateful to be sharing, albeit briefly, the same postcode as the WRC’s superstars. As ever, it was a humbling sight.
Japan brings the best out in our sport and last week was no different. Like I said, that Sunday went down in history and will be talked about for decades to come. Being there to witness that monumental scrap as well as a maiden win for Neuville and Wydaeghe was a privilege.
As it was to see Pajari and Mälkönen crowned. I remain unconvinced in the extreme when it comes to the WRC2 format and the crews’ ability to dodge head-to-head competition. A Solberg-Pajari head-to-head across seven rallies would have been awesome. And more meaningful. Sami and Oliver agree, as do the vast majority of crews battling the sport’s second tier.
The title eluded Solberg after Pajari delivered a drive that was both mature and fast when it needed to be. Congratulations to both crews, but especially to the Finns. But what a moment of mixed feelings for Mälkönen. She’d just made it to the top of the world, only to find her seat taken.
Three years together culminated in the WRC2 title – but Pajari marches on to Rally1 without Mälkonen next year
I can’t pretend to understand the ins and outs of what led to that decision, but it seems harsh indeed on a young co-driver who has spent the last decade working towards that point. And, let’s be honest, this one came out of the blue. Did I miss an early check-in or a late call? No, didn’t think so.
Regardless of what happened – and the timing was pretty cruel – on Sunday night, Enni, never forget you became the best in the world on Sunday afternoon.
