Full Throttle

There was a time long, long ago, when I was driving south on I-75 through southern Michigan. Enroute Toledo Speedway I was, towing my ‘75 Camaro late model behind a tired old ‘63 Dodge Ram pick-up. As it turned out overly tired, but not weary enough that is wasn’t “hungry.”

That old six-banger swallowed a valve with a clatter and crash of metal-to metal contact. I did make the race, a fellow racer with one of them high-falutin’ flatbed trucks hitched up my car and trailer and we rolled into Toledo just in time for hot laps.

He made the feature, I, well… I didn’t and finished third in the 20 lap consi. The 20 buck cash prize wouldn’t “pay attention” let alone repair the old Dodge.

This sad tale happens to the best of vehicles and drivers. Except where it doesn’t, or at least not expected.

Last week saw Michael Schumacher’s quest for an eighth world title go up in smoke on lap thirty somethin’. Being the first Ferrari engine failure in five years and Schumi’s first in six was obviously a total shock for most fans.

The brain trust back in Maranello think they have zeroed in on the Ferrari V8’s malady. See where I’m going with this?

Yep, you guessed it, that Prancing Horse was no better than my old, not so trusty, Dodge Ram pick-up! It sucked a valve down its throat.

How pedestrian is that!

Not sure what Maranello will do with the destroyed V8 block, maybe use it for a planter at the honeymoon chalet of Jean Todt and his Bond Girl, but I know what happened to my dead powerplant.

It and the pick-up shell wrapped around it headed for the nearest scrapeyard. When last seen it housed a family of racoons on the right floorboard.

F1, Formula One, Maranello, Farrari, Sports, Auto Racing, Motorsports, Full Throttle