American Racewatching's Finest Hour

American racewatching's finest hour

EDITORIAL

FOR WHAT SEEMS LIKE THE UMPTEENmillionth time, someone has asked me, "What did you think of the USGP at Laguna Seca?"

Well, my answer now is the same as it was when I was first asked that question a few minutes after Eddie Lawson took the checkered flag to win America's first GP roadrace since 1965: I was thoroughly impressed. I was impressed with the racing, which was of the highest quality to be found anywhere on the planet. I was impressed with the U.S. riders, who won the 500 and the 250 events, taking three of the first five spots in both races. And I was impressed with the enormity of the crowd, which was a spectacle in itself.

Still, though I was mightily impressed, I wasn’t the least bit surprised. After all, I was one of the many people who predicted that the racing at Laguna would be terrific, that the American riders would put on a memorable show, and that the crowds would be huge. Nevertheless, something did happen at the USGP that no one expected, something that impressed me more than anything else I observed during the entire weekend: The crowd was just as high in quality as it was in quantity.

Obviously, I wasn’t able to talk to every one of the spectators, but I did chat briefly with quite a few of them-some at the track, some in and around Monterey, and some on the road to and from the races. And much to my very pleasant surprise, most seemed to know more about the racing they were about to see, or were seeing, or had seen, than any spectators at any motorcycle event I’ve ever attended. They were at the ready with background information on riders who were competing in America for the first time. They discussed things like twin-crank V-Four engines and case-reed induction systems. They knew that the next round of the World Championship would still be called the Portuguese GP, even though it had been moved from Estoril in Portugal to the Jerez circuit in Spain. In short, these were no GPracing dummies, these 80,000-plus spectators who lined the fences and covered the hillsides at Laguna Seca.

Now, maybe you don’t find that

remarkable, but I certainly do, simply because there is no easy way for anyone to learn about such things in the U.S. We have no comparable form of racing here, no classes in which modern 500cc two-stroke racebikes compete; as a consequence, up-close-andpersonal knowledge about the machinery isn’t available. And except for the occasional story about worldchampionship riders or bikes in publications such as this one, you can’t even read about GP racing unless you subscribe to (and in most cases, have translated) certain foreign motorcycling publications. All things considered, then, that so many spectators at Laguna Seca knew anything at all about GP racing is just short of miraculous.

But it didn’t take a miracle to figure out the type of motorcycle preferred by those fans; it seemed as though every sportbike sold in this country over the past few years was at the USGP that weekend. I wondered if maybe the manufacturers had gone through their registration records and sent letters to all sportbike owners, threatening to repossess any sport machine that failed to appear at Laguna Seca Raceway somewhere between Friday, April 8 and Sunday, April 10, 1988. There were a few Harleys in attendance, a smattering of Japanese cruisers, the occasional BMW and a number of full-dress touring rigs; but for the most part, the motorcycle parking lots at the track were multi-colored seas of latemodel sportbikes.

Someone also must have offered bonus points for dressing the part. I saw more riders, both male and female, decked out in full roadracestyle leathers and color-coordinated helmets during that weekend than I have ever encountered anywhere in this country. Only at some big races in Japan and Europe have I seen more well-dressed riders—and even then, not that many more.

I found all of this wonderfully pleasing, for two reasons other than the obvious. For one, it meant that the crowd at the USGP comprised mostly real motorcyclists. Everyone expected a big turnout for the event, but many people felt that—as with many stadium motocross races—a large portion of the audience would be non-enthusiasts, people who’d come to watch out of curiosity more than of any real involvement in the sport. But everything I saw at Laguna refuted any such notion.

What’s more, those savvy spectators proved—to me, at least—that the upswing in sportbike sales over the past few years is no fluke. Some industry experts contend that although sportbikes have continued to grab an increasing share of the market in recent times, fewer and fewer are being bought by hard-core, committed enthusiasts. They believe that large numbers of sportbike buyers these days are short-term motorcyclists, riders who choose sport models not because they give a damn about higher performance and advanced technology, but only because those bikes are the flashiest, trendiest things on two wheels. But what I observed at the USGP blows that theory all to hell, too.

If you were one of those more than 80,000 attendees, you know exactly what I’m talking about. If you were not, well, you missed something very special. You’ll have to remedy that situation when the USGP returns to Laguna Seca next year.

By the way, if you own a GSX-R or an FZR or a Ninja or a Hurricane or a Ducati or any other late-model sportbike, and you didn't ride it to this year’s USGP, I have an important reminder for you: The repo truck will be at your house sometime next week to pick up your bike. Paul Dean