Super Prestigio!
RaceWatch
MARC MARQUEZ -> KENNY NOYES MERLE SCHERB -> HARLEY-DAVIDSON GEOGRAPHY
THE VIEW FROM INSIDE THE PADDOCK
BRAD BAKER
SUPER PRESTIGIO!
DIRT TRACK
Marc Marquez and Brad Baker square off on a short track in Spain
Gary Inman
IMAGINE YOU'RE 20 years old. You compete in an intense motorsport. At home, millions of your Spanish countrymen feel a vested interest in your success. Work is controlling a motorcycle that can snuff out your life in a blink and battling riders who wouldn't really care if the bike succeeded. Then, in November, you're told to take 10 weeks off. Ten weeks! What do you do? If you're Marc Marquez, MotoGP phenomenon, you resurrect a long-dormant exhibition race, use your contacts and influence to organize it in a former Olympic stadium in your home region of Catalunya, and invite an impressive roll call of elite riders to join you. It's a no-brainer.
In a narrow corridor below an indoor bowl of 15,000 seats in the Palau Sant Jordi in Barcelona, Marquez hustles from watching qualifying back to the cramped temporary pit he is sharing with some of his MotoGP mates. A teenage girl and her dad stop him for a phone snap. The spotless Repsol Honda leathers are familiar. So is the neon smile and eyes that twinkle—no really, they're twinkling. Less familiar is the schlep, clump, schlep, clump that's accompanying his walk. The noise comes from the steel hot shoe strapped to the bottom of his left boot, because this race, the Superprestigio,
will see Marquez and his fellow world championship riders leave their tarmac comfort zone to race dirt track.
Marquez climbs on a Honda CRF450R fitted with 17-inch wheels and Michelin wets. The bike looks like a lowered supermoto, minus a front brake. Twelve riders squeeze out of a gate onto the oval for a four-minute timed qualifying session. Marquez is among them. So is Tito Rabat and Aleix Espargaro. Bradley Smith, Alvaro Bautista, Motoß champ Maverick Vinales, and a bunch of other Moto2 and Moto3 pilots are in the next qualifying group.
As the sound of a squadron of 45OCC singles reverberates around the empty arena, it is clear Marquez's comfort zone boundaries stretch to the horizon. He is monstering the CRF, making his MotoGP RCV's 63 degrees of lean look conservative, howling in the corner on opposite lock, rear wheel spinning, inside footpeg on the deck, his little body over the top of the bike until he's a meter or two from the apex. Then, in a fluid motion that produces gasps from other riders, Marquez swings his body to the inside of the bike, like he would on a roadracer, flicking the bars straight for an instant before nailing the throttle and steering the Honda back onto opposite lock aiming for the exit.
Marquez's 13.6-second laps look as graceful as wrestling a conger eel in a bath full of oxtail soup. Among his peers in attendance, the Spaniard is the king of the soupy-eelwrestlers. Smith (10th overall in MotoGP points last season, his rookie year) sums up his own qualifying progress in one word: nightmare. Marquez,
like Valentino Rossi, has built a private dirt track oval to practice. Motocross training has gone out of vogue, and dirt track is back in. Like Kenny Roberts proved back in the '70s, dirt track teaches throttle and bike control that directly parlays to tarmac domination in a way the braap braap of motocross doesn't.
As qualifying ends, a thick film of orange dust covers every seat and surface. A small team of cleaners sets about dusting every single seat as I go to track down the only man who looks capable of spoiling Marquez's party.
Brad "The Bullet" Baker is the 2013 AMA Pro Flat Track Grand National champion and, like Marquez, he is 20 years old. Baker was invited when it was pointed out you can hardly have a "super prestigious" dirt-track race without the current king of the sport.
From Washington state, Baker dwarfs Marquez. He's racing a borrowed KTM SMR450, with his own low exhaust pipe and suspension.
"First time overseas,"
Baker explains. "I'm enjoying myself. It's amazing how big motorsport is over here, especially motorcycles here in Barcelona. They treat me better, almost, over here than they do at home. It's a surreal experience."
Baker talks of practicing with Marquez and of the welcome sight of the stars and stripes displayed on "booty shorts" of the promo girls. Then, with almost supernatural foresight, he delivers a statement that should chill the blood of the competition.
HARLEY-DAVIDSON GEOGRAPHY
In 1990, when I was working with Superprestigio promoters RPM Racing, we organized our first dirttrack race and had enough budget to bring over one American rider. I convinced the boss, Jaime Alguersuari, we needed Jay Springsteen. The threetime AMA Grand National champion was still under contract to Harley-Davidson, so Milwaukee had to agree. Finally, after a lot of faxes and phone calls, they did...until they didn't.
The Gulf War had started and H-D sent a telex
that said, "Due to the proximity of Barcelona and Baghdad, we are unable to approve Jay Springsteen's participation in your event."
I called and tried to convince them that the distance between Barcelona and Baghdad was about the same as Milwaukee to Caracas, but the person with whom I was talking-l couldn't get beyond a receptionist because the decision was already made-said Harley would not approve Springer racing in Caracas, either.
So I called Dave Despain and asked for help. "Who should I call?" Despain didn't hesitate.
"Steve Morehead is your man," he said.
I phoned Morehead, quoted the start money (more than winning the main at Springfield, I heard him say), but I mentioned I needed a firm agreement because Harley, worried that Barcelona was too close to Baghdad, had pulled Springer.
After a brief pause, the Findlay Flyer said, "For that money, I'd ride in Baghdad!" Dennis Noyes
"If they want to make a dirt-track race, I'm going to make it as dirt track as possible. I don't plan on cleaning anyone's clock, but if someone needs to be moved out of the way, he's going to be moved out of the way. My passes will be clean because I'll be waiting for mistakes. But if I get a bad start and I need to make a charge, I'll do what I've got to do."
A crowd of roughly 8,000 half-fills the arena. It's a decent gate, considering the financial difficulty Spain is in, proximity to Christmas, and the fact the cheapest ticket is 30 euros. One block of seats is full of red "93" shirts and flags.
After a typical lights-andnoise rider intro, the action gets under way. The racing is intense. Not a single six-rider, ço-second heat race passes without a crash, and there are 22 heats and qualifiers.
Marquez and Baker are in command, but they are racing in different classes—Marquez in Superprestigio, Baker in Open, until the Super Final.
After two hours of racing, the quickest riders line up behind a motocross-style gate for the 12-lap finale. There are three Americans: Texan dirt-track specialist Merle Scherb, dirt-tracker-turnedroadracer (and Barcelona resident) Kenny Noyes, and Baker. Additionally, there is Moto2 rider Rabat, MotoGP CRT champ Espargaro, and Le Mans 24-hour-winner Dani Ribalta.
Like they have managed virtually all night, Baker and Marquez are out front and avoid the melee of wheels and feet behind them.
Baker tends to run the wide line through the corners, back wheel on the cushion, passing Marquez at the exit. The Spaniard fights back on the entry to the next corner, braking up the inside line and forcing Baker wide on the exit. Twice he puts Baker into the air fence. Twice Baker fights back. At first, the exceptionally fluid Baker looks like he is in control, toying with his host. As the laps tick down, though, I think Marquez might beat the American.
On lap 10, on the entry to turn one, Marquez leaves a foot but Baker takes a mile. The MotoGP rider bounces off the American like a wasp off a windshield and goes down like the Titanic. Baker looks over his shoulder and seems to be waiting for a red flag. No one else is, and the chasing pack is soon on his tail. So Baker accelerates to easily take the win ahead of Rabat and Noyes. I expect a restrained celebration, but The Bullet wheelies over the line, waits to give Marquez a firm handshake and a noncommittal shrug, then returns to grab the flag from AMA Pro Racing's Kevin Clark to embark on a lap of stand-up wheelies.
Marquez takes his battering like a man. As soon as his helmet comes off, he's smiling. He's a hell of a racer, but when it comes to dirt track, he's just playing at it.
