Yesterday was brilliant for motoring TV

IN THE middle of a summer stashed full of car shows, last weekend was all about staying in. Specifically, it was about some of the best petrolhead telly in years.

Whether you’re an F1 addict or someone who – like me - occasionally dips into motorsport’s equivalent of the Premier League, the British Grand Prix last weekend offered up some of the most gripping racing I’ve seen in ages. Bored of Wimbledon and unsure whether I’m either too cool or not quite cool enough to get into Glastonbury, I happily flicked over to Silverstone for a bit of V8-powered relief.

Naturally, being British, I wanted Lewis – who’d qualified on pole – to win. If that’d happened I’m pretty sure the Queen herself would have arrived to congratulate him, the Northamptonshire circuit would have been treated to a flypast by the Red Arrows and the nation would have breathed a collective sigh of relief after realizing we can still win at something. Unfortunately, a bit of a puncture on his Pirellis, early on into the race, left him at the back of the grid. Lewis’ loss, however, was the fans’ gain, because it was one of the tensest races I’ve seen in years.

The screamer from Stevenage didn’t manage to win, but he did succeed in getting from last to fourth, via some pretty spectacular driving, while Mark Webber came out of nowhere to snatch second. Meanwhile, in my living room, I grunted the excited squeak of a farmyard animal when Sebastian Vettel’s gearbox gave up the ghost. Frankly, I loved the whole unpredictable spectacle. Speaking of the predictable, I’d been counting down the days until that other great staple of petrolhead telly – Top Gear – romped back into the schedules later that evening, regardless of whether you love it or hate it.

For what it’s worth, I still think there’s a yawning great chasm – probably somewhere in the depths of BBC Four – for a proper, sensible TV show about all matters motoring, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy TG’s return. The more flak that gets thrown at Top Gear by Daily Mail readers, the stronger the show’s content seems to get – and Jezza, Slow and Hamster have been through the usual barrage of pre-show criticsm. That’s why I’m expecting great things from the hour I swap the driver’s seat for the sofa each Sunday night.

Car shows every other weekend, some vaguely summer-esque weather to enjoy driving for a change and Top Gear on Sunday nights to round it all off nicely. Much better than standing around in a field in Somerset waiting for Mumford and Sons, I reckon!

Lotus takes on Lotus in world's most confusing car deal

THE Lotus vs Lotus rivalry that's hit racetracks around the world in perhaps the most confusing F1 name dispute ever has hit the road.

Anyone who's been following this year's F1 season will already know that thanks to some incredibly boring business tubthumping that Team Lotus, owner of one of the sport's most iconic names, is in direct competition with Lotus Renault, which is actually backed by the Brit sports car maker. All of which means that spectators at Silverstone in July can see, probably for the only time, two completely different cars from two completely different Lotus teams, which are both powered by Renault engines. Confused? Then you're going love the story's latest twist.

The first Lotus team, the one that isn't backed by Lotus, the car maker, has just announced that it's bought Caterham Cars, makers of the iconic Caterham 7 sports car, which is of course directly descended from the - wait for it - Lotus 7 of the Sixties.

Anyone who's ever seen not-at-all-kitsch Sixties TV hit The Prisoner will already know the original Lotus 7 as that dinky little two-seater Patrick McGoohan drove around in before being kidnapped and sent to a strange village which looks suspiciously like Portmeirion in North Wales. Lotus made it right up until 1973 before getting bored with it, and flogging the rights to what was then one their main dealers in Caterham, Surrey. The rebranded Caterham 7, thanks to constant redevelopment, has been a hit ever since.

Naturally, the company's new owners have decided to play up their motorsport links and immediately placed a Caterham in Team Lotus colours next to their F1 car, a move so evocative that they immediately decided to follow this up by offering customers a limited run of Team Lotus Special Edition Caterham 7s.

So what we've now got is a Lotus-designed, Lotus-coloured car made by a company now owned by a Team Lotus which will compete directly for your sports car cash this summer with the Elise, a Lotus-designed, Lotus-badged car made by Lotus, another car company which has given its support to another F1 team called Lotus.

Where will it all end? Probably, I imagine, in a high-flying court case, although if Lotus loses we could end up with the even weirder situation where Caterham is renamed Team Lotus Cars, and the choice of car for anyone keen on their driving boils down to whether you want a Lotus or a Lotus.

My head hurts. I may have to adopt the Lotus position to relax.

F1? Pah, this is much more exciting

I'VE just missed F1's most exciting race in ages.

Ferrari clutching its first win all season, Brit favourites Button and Hamilton both out in the early stages, Brawn's dream-come-true turning slightly more sour; I saw none of it, and I don't care.

While all of you were cheering Jenson on from the living room, I was stood in a mucky field just outside Carnforth, being rained on. My palms were plastered in the rubbery filth you only ever find on the tyre treads of decades-old HGVs, and my eardrums were knackered, destroyed from hours of sonic bombardment. Yet I was missing F1 for something much more exciting; banger racing!

Warton Stock Car Club is like some Arctic Monkeys ripposte to the stadium-rock smoothness of the F1 world tour, and about as noisy. You stand by some terminally rusty steel fencing - forget anything so sophisticated as seats - scoff chips, and listen to what used to be Ford Capris blow your ears to pieces.

And that's just the warm-up act.



Sure, sitting down to watch Brawn win is a nice afternoon, but if you want a great one you want to see fifteen caravans get torn to pieces in a matter of seconds. Actually, you need to, because no televised motorsport is this much fun. It's not big and it's not clever, but I haven't laughed so much in ages.

A friend our little group had gone along to support had spent hours decorating a dying Volvo V70 and stupidly-named caravan - Rapier Sprite or something - in the sort of dazzingly bright colours that haven't been seen in F1 in years. Both were ruined beyond recognition within a minute, and the crowds loved it.



Forget watching F1 from the sofa. Get out there, watch the Sierras and Granadas go out in style, and laugh yourself silly.

Or tape the Grand Prix, and do both...