What happens when the sequel to a headline-grabbing incident labelled ‘the worst act of cheating in the history of sport’ is an anti-climactic conditional sentence for the team involved (Renault) and the acquittal of the driver who perpetrated the act (Nelson Piquet Junior)?
Nothing.
The scales of justice in Formula One have tilted towards a verdict that has ignited much debate: the show will go on, no matter that the injuries inflicted by the mishap manufactured at the 2008 Singapore Grand Prix threaten to damage further the already battered-and-bruised image of the sport.
L’affaire Crashgate is but the latest instance of sport staying true to the rules of the game it has reshaped for itself. Of what consequence then is the concept of fair play? The material evidence indicting all concerned in this multi-starrer set in the blue riband event of high-speed racing?
The story till now: at the Singapore GP on September 28 last year, Renault driver Nelson Piquet Jr received instructions from influential team voices to crash his vehicle, the objective being to initiate an interruption in the race that would allow the team’s other driver, Fernando Alonso, to take advantage of the resultant safety procedures and press for victory. The crash was clocked to perfection, coming as it did barely two laps after Alonso, who started 15th on the grid, had checked in for a routine pit stop; in effect, by the time the remains of the crash were removed from the racetrack, Alonso, the only driver who didn’t have to stop for refuelling and change of tyres, was the front-runner. Unsurprisingly, the Spaniard was first past the chequered flag, thus delivering to Renault its first GP triumph in two years.
Though eyebrows arched across skeptical eyeballs did rise as a consequence, in the absence of tangible evidence, no questions were asked of Renault. And that remained the case till this season’s Hungarian GP on July 26, after which Renault axed Piquet Jr. Piqued, the Brazilian metamorphosed into whistle-blower. Renault’s initial act of self-defence was the unconvincing allegation of blackmail against the driver and his father, but with scrutiny zooming in on what had always been the subject of suspicion, the men at whom Piquet Jr’s accusing fingers pointed — Renault team principal Flavio Briatore and executive director of engineering Pat Symonds — were forced to head for the exit gate. The last two mentioned are partners in crime who, using Piquet Jr as the instrument of implementation, caused a collision that unquestionably endangered the lives of the driver himself, his rivals, race marshals and even spectators. ‘The worst act of cheating in the history of sport’ might sound exaggerated, but the claims of this incident to a place in the hall of shame are not unfounded.
So irrefutable is the evidence against it that Renault did not contest the charges. And yet, in the esteemed opinion of F1’s governing body, the FIA (Federation Internationale de l’Automobile), the episode warrants no more than a two-year suspended ban for the team. Unambiguously, Renault will command a place on the starting grid and invite upon itself an enforceable permanent ban only if it commits a comparable offence in the next two years. Piquet, as whistle-blower, has been guaranteed immunity; that he had the power to say ‘no’ and prevent the occurrence of the incident has not been worthy of consideration. As regards Alonso, the World Motor Sport Council (WMSC) has thanked Crashgate’s biggest beneficiary for “cooperating with the FIA’s enquiries” and concluded that he was “not involved in the conspiracy” and “not in any way involved in Renault F1’s breach of regulations”!
F1’s wise-heads might be guilty of leniency but no one can accuse them of lacking imagination. Or being the first to adopt foul play as the means to an end. Athletes and administrators have broken the rules and overstepped the boundary lines for as long as sport has existed.
Moral considerations are avoidable irritants in the realpolitik of global bodies governing the various manifestations of dash-for-cash modern-day sport. Where the only line to be treated with caution is the bottomline, even blatant violation of accepted practice is to be punished not on the basis of principles but practicalities. A case for self-justification presents itself. F1, ridden by rebellion, pullouts, scandals and controversies in recent times, can ill afford to sacrifice a big-ticket team like Renault in the name of fair play.
What compulsion exists then for individuals and teams not to cheat, not to betray the system and indeed the fans who sustain themselves on the addictive properties of sport and realise through the action on the playing field their unfulfilled dreams? None. None?
Whatever it is that prevents the authorities from punishing gross offenders with expulsion, nothing prevents the fan from severing ties with sport corrupted by cheating and compromise. That, perhaps, would redefine the bottomline.