Remember the day you muzzled past that Shoemakker at Interlagos? That one fleeting moment you gave the whole world hope of titanic duels a la Senna-Prost.
I for one braced for many a record to be broken. But all you broke were those Munich engines and Stuttgart prides. And of course that elbow of yours. Was it tennis or bathtub?
No one doubts your balls-out racing style, but Ron surely doesn’t like being wagged by the tail. He’s got that kid Hamilton right on your gearbox. Even that bugger Berger quipped that your Latin energy ain’t good enuff for their tin cans.
So you’d do yourself a lotta good by beating that Kimster big time and forcing him outta Woking. Otherwise it looks like you’re running outta options bud.