Yes, folks, it's all about Lewis Hamilton's finger this week. Never were so many blogposts and comments devoted to one part of a Formula 1 driver's body as there have been to Lewis' wayward digit. Well, there was PitPass' attempt to focus on another aspect of Scott Speed's anatomy but that never really rose to the occasion...
Alonso in 2006 predicts the future
If you really want to get into the discussion, Keith Collantine's post on it is the place to be. But the story has already been denied by everyone that matters and it turns out to have originated from a Canadian newspaper that is not noted for exclusive interviews with F1 stars. The moving finger writes and points this time at misbehaving software, a fact explained with outstanding brilliance by Sidepodcast's post, Start Me Up.
There is an interesting aspect of modern F1 racing that is highlighted by the incident, however. Take a look at this replica of a steering wheel from a Ferrari F2007 and ask yourself what it reminds you of. Could it be a computer game controller? One is certainly mimicking the other, perhaps because they perform such similar functions.
And in this we may have stumbled upon the secret of Hamilton's success this year. I thought my older son, Mad, now 36 years old, was of the computer game generation but he assures me that he is nothing in comparison to those younger than himself. The Pootle, my son aged 16, bears this out; he is a blur of lightning in the game Halo. Hamilton fits nicely in between these two, undoubtedly a product of the computer revolution of the last twenty years, a man born to fiddle like a maestro with controller buttons in arcane combinations.
Suddenly it becomes clear that his time in the simulator and the fabled video games with his buddy, Fernando, are merely indications of something that has been a part of Lewis' life virtually (pun intended) from birth. This guy is but the first of many who will be instantly at home in the cockpit of a Formula 1 car, the buttons falling naturally to his fingertips, his hands assuming the characteristic pose of the confirmed gamer. It is no wonder that he has been quick from day one in the sport.
And now we see that it is impossible that the gearbox software glitch that lost him a championship could have been of his own making. Those fingers, so used to hitting the right button at the right time, cannot have erred this once, must have been seeking to correct the fault rather than accidentally cause it.
I can remember that, when I first drove a car at the tender age of 14, everything fell naturally into place and my backside told me what the car was doing at any given moment. I was a wild one in those days and spent many a happy moment sideways in corners, my mother's illicitly borrowed car assisting my efforts with rear-engined glee - and it was always my rear end that formed the communication between the car and myself. How different it must be for today's F1 drivers, insulated from the normal behavior of a car on the limit by a welter of driver aids and massive downforce.
With a flash like a revelation from the gods of Formula 1, it dawns on me at last: it's the finger, the blessed finger! All hail the mighty finger of the so-nearly-anointed darling of Britain, our boy Lewis!
Alonso in 2006 predicts the future
If you really want to get into the discussion, Keith Collantine's post on it is the place to be. But the story has already been denied by everyone that matters and it turns out to have originated from a Canadian newspaper that is not noted for exclusive interviews with F1 stars. The moving finger writes and points this time at misbehaving software, a fact explained with outstanding brilliance by Sidepodcast's post, Start Me Up.
There is an interesting aspect of modern F1 racing that is highlighted by the incident, however. Take a look at this replica of a steering wheel from a Ferrari F2007 and ask yourself what it reminds you of. Could it be a computer game controller? One is certainly mimicking the other, perhaps because they perform such similar functions.
And in this we may have stumbled upon the secret of Hamilton's success this year. I thought my older son, Mad, now 36 years old, was of the computer game generation but he assures me that he is nothing in comparison to those younger than himself. The Pootle, my son aged 16, bears this out; he is a blur of lightning in the game Halo. Hamilton fits nicely in between these two, undoubtedly a product of the computer revolution of the last twenty years, a man born to fiddle like a maestro with controller buttons in arcane combinations.
Suddenly it becomes clear that his time in the simulator and the fabled video games with his buddy, Fernando, are merely indications of something that has been a part of Lewis' life virtually (pun intended) from birth. This guy is but the first of many who will be instantly at home in the cockpit of a Formula 1 car, the buttons falling naturally to his fingertips, his hands assuming the characteristic pose of the confirmed gamer. It is no wonder that he has been quick from day one in the sport.
And now we see that it is impossible that the gearbox software glitch that lost him a championship could have been of his own making. Those fingers, so used to hitting the right button at the right time, cannot have erred this once, must have been seeking to correct the fault rather than accidentally cause it.
I can remember that, when I first drove a car at the tender age of 14, everything fell naturally into place and my backside told me what the car was doing at any given moment. I was a wild one in those days and spent many a happy moment sideways in corners, my mother's illicitly borrowed car assisting my efforts with rear-engined glee - and it was always my rear end that formed the communication between the car and myself. How different it must be for today's F1 drivers, insulated from the normal behavior of a car on the limit by a welter of driver aids and massive downforce.
With a flash like a revelation from the gods of Formula 1, it dawns on me at last: it's the finger, the blessed finger! All hail the mighty finger of the so-nearly-anointed darling of Britain, our boy Lewis!