I Don't Want a Commentary Box

The new Indian Formula One circuit has 35 commentary boxes, but not one of them has a view of the circuit. There is an argument to say, why does it matter? I was out in Delhi in December commentating on the Formula MRF Championship from one of these sound-proofed rooms and, if I’m honest, it didn’t have a huge impact on my commentary. Certainly, the particularly violent symptoms of Dehli Belly I was suffering from were more of a concern. The question therefore is; does it matter where a commentator commentates from?

One of the boxes at the Indian F1 Circuit

Aside from telling the story of an event, it is a very important responsibility to try and bring the audience to the venue, to make them feel involved. That may sound like a bit of a wishy-washy arts graduate opinion, but it’s what I attempt to do. Off-tube commentary for example – where the commentator is hundreds of miles from an event, commentating from a TV studio – will never be as good as that same commentator working on-site in my opinion. Often the audience wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but I much prefer working at the event. Facilities like those in India, though, are pretty much off-tube rooms that happen to be on-site. But not only would I like to see the end of commentary boxes in stupid positions, or with limited views of any aspect of the circuit, I’d like to do away with commentary boxes all together.

Football commentary doesn’t come from boxes. The commentators are sat in the crowd, with the best view in the house, but why? They too are just commentating on the TV pictures from the monitor in front of them. So the argument becomes that it helps them bring the atmosphere to the viewers. I love football, but atmosphere essentially consists of grown men shouting and insulting each other like children. You can’t hear the players talking to each other, can’t see the nuances that the TV cameras may have failed to pick up, all you get is chanting.

Guy Mowbray's commentary position at a football ground

What got me thinking about all this was last weekend in Dubai. I was out there commentating on the XCAT Powerboat World Series for the first time, and instead of a box I was plonked on the race control boat, open to the elements save for a canopy above my head on the top deck of this yacht, perhaps 50 metres from the finish line where the boats were skimming over the waves at 120mph. Suddenly, you’re involved. You’re there. The boat is rocking as each powerboat speeds past, you can hear the sound, smell the oil and see the drivers working the wheel. It invigorates you and excites you, and as a result allows you to better communicate the spectacle to the viewers. It was fantastic. We all know how intoxicating it is watching motorsport, so why should we be excluded from that environment whilst trying to convey it to our audience?

Powerboat commentary position in Dubai

Which made me a happy chappy

Motorsport is the most spectacular of sports. My job is brilliant. But being locked up in a small sterile room is the worst part of it, and doesn’t provide the right environment for good commentary. If I'm commentating at Cadwell Park in Lincolnshire, I will often take the microphone outside of the box and sit on the grass bank outside. Murray Walker apparently commentated from the pitlane at Monaco in the 1980s, what an absolute thrill that must have been. Noise may be an issue, but frankly technology is advanced enough for that not to be a particular stumbling block. I'd love to commentate from in the grandstand with the fans, just like football commentary, and I think it would create a better environment for my work.

What Went Wrong with Formula Two?

The idea seemed sound. In fact, to me it seemed brilliant. I've not been around the Motorsport world very long, but I'd say the biggest issue facing us is that of young drivers being able to afford to show their potential. In F1, it's a well known adage that you can only really judge your ability in relation to your teammate, as they are the only other driver in the same car. Whilst less applicable to lower formulas due to the nature of spec series, the saying still holds true. For example, if you don't have the budget to go with DAMS in GP2, and end up with Ocean Racing, you won't be judged too harshly for not being a front runner. Potential in GP2, F3 and the like is limited by budget. Talent is still required, of course, but how brightly your star can shine depends on how much cash you can get your hands on.

So imagine a series where there are effectively 24 teammates, in identical cars and all with access to data from the fastest driver, competing on F1 circuits around Europe over 16 races. Throw in a fixed budget, which is less than half of a top F3 budget in faster cars, and you have FIA Formula Two; the fairest single seater formula in history. So why did this seemingly genius category not take off?

F2's debut 2009 season

I've heard that operationally, 2009 was not a good debut year. I don't know whether that's true or not, all I can say is that when I joined in 2011, the system totally worked. The cars were equal, the engineering system was fair and reliability was very good. Accusations that the car was not as good as an F3 car as a learning tool were quashed by Jolyon Palmer, who developed his driving in F2 to then become a race winner in GP2. Similarly, Robert Wickens went from F2 front runner to Formula Renault 3.5 champion. In fact, had reigning F2 champion Dean Stoneman not been sadly diagnosed with cancer, FR3.5 would've seen he and Wickens battling it out with Jean-Eric Vergne and Daniel Ricciardo from British F3 for the championship, proving F2's legitimacy as a rung on the ladder. 

Jolyon Palmer, winning in GP2 at Monaco

But the exact rung it was trying to be was unclear. F2 was not F2. It was not one step below F1, so despite its merits, claiming to be something your not never ends well. Combined with the emergence of GP3 the following year, it perhaps seemed that the writing was on the wall from an early stage

In my opinion, though, the biggest problem was that there was nothing in it for anyone financially. Perhaps that is why I'm one of the few supporters of F2, because it started my career and earned me some money, but I think it's deeper than that. Because there was something in it for me, I attended the events and saw what was happening. But because of the centrally run nature of the championship, not many other people did. At a race weekend there would be around 50 freelance mechanics and engineers, a handful of F2 employees, and the drivers. Without teams, the championship was idyllically fair, but without teams there was no one in the paddock. It became a very insular world with no cross pollination with other series. A driver who is with the Fortec team in a lower series is most likely going to stick with Fortec as they climb the ladder, as the team look around to see what is the best championship to enter. F2 is not an option for that driver. It was left to one man to gather the entire F2 grid. 

Entry numbers fell in 2012

MSV, the organisers of F2, ran the series at such a cheap price that they weren't even making much money from it. Which not only potentially shifted their focus away from F2 as a company, but also meant any kind of promotional budget was non-existent. If there's no financial gain, no one wants to be there, and no one cares, and I fear that's the fundamental reason behind the demise of F2. Teams want drivers to enter a series they can make some money from, creating an affluent and appealing championship that drivers want to race in. Formula Two was left stranded, alone in an ever complicating feeder series scene, with an excellent but tiny team tasked with challenging the might of Renault and FOM, offering nothing but the fairest racing around. Money talks. F2 died.

And Now for Something Completely Different

I really like racing cars. You probably know that. But when I got the call asking if I was available to commentate at the London 2012 Olympic Games, I leapt at the chance. Technically, I had never commentated on any sport other than racing before – although I’d been honing my craft on the PlayStation since FIFA 98 – so to enter into the biggest sporting event in the world with zero experience was quite a daunting prospect. Indeed, the producers made it pretty clear that I was a bit of a gamble, which only increased the pressure.

The Olympic Park on the opening day

Perhaps the thing I’ve been asked most often is the difference between motorsport commentary, and that of other sports. As I’ve illustrated, I can hardly profess to being an expert in these theories, but the main difference is that with the team sports I was doing, you talk a lot less. I covered hockey, basketball, handball, volleyball, water polo and beach volleyball, all of which require you to let the action do the talking a lot more than in motorsport. For some reason, and I don’t know why, motorsport demands (or is accustomed to) a more play by play commentary style. In volleyball, though, you tend to let the whole point develop, before then commenting on the action that the audience have just seen. Well that’s what I did anyway.

My commentary booth for handball

As far as my commentary highlights were concerned, the most fun I had was Australia v Britain in men’s hockey. Australia – one of the best teams in the world – moved into a 3-0 lead with about thirty minutes left to play. Incredibly, Britain brought it back to 3-3, sending the crowd into raptures and ultimately moving them through to the semi-finals of the competition. Away from the booth, I was fortunate enough to have access to the Velodrome, where I watched Britain win Gold in the men’s team pursuit. I’ve been to a few sporting events in my time, but nothing compares to the atmosphere and emotion I experienced that day.

My view of the Velodrome medal ceremony

I find with blogs that I want to keep them short, but I could go on all day. So this is the end of it. It’s perhaps more of a memoir to myself than something that is of great interest to you, but it’s been the most incredible two weeks of my life. Things are looking good for the future, as far as the 2016 Olympics are concerned, but even if I’m lucky enough to end up in Brazil, commentating at the London Olympics is undoubtedly a once in a lifetime opportunity, one that I feel massively privileged and proud to have experienced.

About 1/4 of the Olympic Broadcasting Services production area

Unpredictability is Fun. For a While.

Unpredictability is fun. Crazy stuff happens and we all think ‘wow that was some crazy stuff, amazing’! The majority of the classic F1 races throughout history are deemed classic because of their very unpredictability, because things that we didn’t think possibly could happen, did happen. That’s fantastic, that’s wonderful, that’s motorsport. At the same time, though, we need the other side in order for unpredictability to work, and indeed the predictable can be just as enjoyable.

Rain in Zolder caused excitement

These kind of realisations are hammered home when you’re standing in the commentary box at Becketts, commentating on some club racing. I’m lucky enough to be covering the FIA GT1 World Championship this year, and so far we’ve had two cracking rounds in Nogaro and Zolder, but both have been blighted by rain. I say ‘blighted’…it’s been epic. The mix-up of conditions has given us some massively exciting racing and three different winners from four races has proven just how open the championship is this season.

This weekend (26/7 May) we are off to Navarra in Spain for round three where the weather forecast suggests it’s going to be dry, and actually, I’m pretty pleased about that. As I stood at Silverstone shouting about an 11 car GT Cup race to eight men and their dog, it dawned on me that I was watching proper motor racing. Drivers on the limit, desperately gaining on their rival ahead by tenths of a second per lap and painstakingly attempting to create an overtaking opportunity; that’s what racing is about. Not DRS and nonsense tyres.

Olivier Panis winning at Monaco in 1996

Olivier Panis winning at Monaco in ’96, or Vettel’s superb drive at Monza in ’08 are remarkable for the very reason that they were surprising, and for them to be unpredictable you need to have the predictable races too. I fear that in this ungraspable F1 season, Pastor Maldonado’s win for Williams will be lost in the myriad of bizarre results that are sure to arrive later this season, when actually it should receive a lot more recognition.

Maldonado's win may be forgotten

And so in FIA GT1 this weekend, I’m hoping for something a bit more predictable. I’m sure it won’t be boring, the closeness of performance demonstrated in the opening rounds will see to that, but I cannot wait to see some of the world’s top GT brands, drivers and teams do battle at a proper race weekend with proper racing. So let's enjoy some fascinating, tense and enthralling motorsport with a bit of a break from unpredictability. For the moment, at least...

F1: Ruthless to Some, Forgiving to Others

Just how long do you give a driver in Formula One before it's time to give him the chop? How quickly should a driver be able to step up and show some form of potential, enough to give his team manager some vague hope that this kid is worth hanging on to? Toro Rosso and the Red Bull driver development programme have come under fire for their recent disposal of Jaime Alguersuari and Sebastian Buemi - although the latter is still involved as a Red Bull test driver - but were these two given enough chance to shine?

Jenson Button leapt straight from British F3 to F1

Let us take a cross-section of the last few World Champions to examine this closer, working backwards chronologically. Sebastian Vettel impressed the moment he got in an F1 car, scoring points on his first outing whilst filling in for Robert Kubica at the 2007 US Grand Prix, before somehow guiding a Toro Rosso to victory at Monza in 2008. Jenson Button put in a ridiculous testing performance for Alain Prost's eponymous team at Magny Cours in 1999, prompting Frank Williams to sign him up months later, taking a 20 year old straight from British Formula 3 in to the deep end at Albert Park for the 2000 F1 season. Button proved his worth, scoring points on his debut. Lewis Hamilton's meteoric F1 career has been well documented, as have Alonso's miracle workings in a poor 2001 Minardi. Kimi Raikkonen was too plucked directly from the lower formulae with only a handful of races under his belt and went on to impress at Sauber. The theme goes on and on, through Schumacher, Villenueve, Senna and Mansell, they all set the F1 alight in their early days.

Alguersuari fails to impress

Buemi and Alguersuari have been in the Toro Rosso set up since 2009, and if truth be told have pulled off none of the heroics of those previously mentioned. Save for some solid performances here and there - Jaime's decent drive to 5th in Korea last season springs to mind - they have shown nothing of the spectacular or sublime required by the ruthless Red Bull development system.   Much was made of Alguersuari's move straight from British F3 to F1 and the inexperience that would surely bring, but as I mentioned earlier, that step didn't phase Button or Raikkonen. 


This ruthless driver performance criteria would be good and healthy for future talent if there wasn't some bizarre desire to hang on to perennially under-performing drivers masquerading as 'experienced professionals'. The likes of de la Rosa, Heidfeld and Barrichello (joyous as they are to have around) should all have been cast from F1 seats and shifted to the TV compound years ago, but each year teams fall for the same old sales pitch of 'bringing a wealth of experience', even if that experience is of lower top 10 finishes...

Robert Wickens has proven his talent in many series

So as it is, we've got a massive backlog of drivers with proven junior formulae credentials trying to force their way into F1. Drivers like Robert Wickens - runner up in FIA Formula Two, champion in World Series by Renault - must be wondering what on Earth they need to do to get a seat, having seemingly done all they can to convince F1 team bosses that they are worth a shot. Formula One is the pinnacle of motorsport, and as such, only the pinnacle of talent should be tolerated. 

My 2011 Season

At the start of 2011, I thought I was making some decent progress with this commentary lark. At the start of my second season, I had a handful of dates lined up to do the public address commentary at club events across the UK, and was scheduled to work with my good friend Ian Sowman on some post produced Ma5da Mx5 racing TV coverage. But my year, and arguably my career, was about to take a huge turn.

On the 4^th April I was at Luton Airport with my girlfriend, heading off for a few days skiing in France. Having just put my liquids in an appropriate clear, resealable bag, I was standing in the slow moving security queue when my phone rang: “Hello, is that Jack? It’s Jonathan Palmer here, chief executive of Motorsport Vision. I’m wondering if you want to do the live TV commentary for the FIA Formula Two Championship at Silverstone in a few weeks?” Initially, it was quite hard to fathom what was going on. My first season of watching Formula One was 1996, when Jonathan commentated on Damon Hill winning the world championship, alongside my biggest hero of all, Murray Walker. The fact that he was now on the phone, asking me to be a live motorsport TV commentator, was quite surreal. Needless to say, I agreed in an instant.

The FIA Formula Two field at Barcelona

There was not one day, possibly not one hour, between that moment and the race at Silverstone that I did not think of Formula Two. If only I could apply myself half as much to my degree as I did to my preparation for that weekend. I rocked up to Silverstone on the Friday, where I spoke to the drivers and main F2 personnel. For the 45 minute practice session, I nicked a chair from one of the catering units by Stowe corner and sat on the bank with my notes, shouting each driver’s name and vital statistics every time he went past. I knew everything I could about the cars and drivers, it was just time for the race. My co-commentator was Jolyon Palmer, who had finished runner up in Formula Two the year before, but was also a live TV newcomer.

I have never experienced nerves like I felt during the 30 second countdown to live. It’s very difficult to describe, but it was as though my brain filled with cotton wool, and it became impossible to consciously think anything other than “Goodness gracious, this is live television” (or words to that effect). Luckily, the subconscious took over, so for the first few minutes I was on auto-pilot. Once I calmed down a bit, everything settled down and it became like any other commentary, and Jolyon was excellent. The great news was that Jonathan was impressed enough to offer me the rest of the season, which has too many fantastic memories to fit in to this short blog. Indeed, there are too many people in F2 that I have had the pleasure to work with this season to name, but working with Tom Phillips, James Gornall and Jonathan Kennard have been the highlights.

Vergne racing in World Series by Renault in Hungary

So Formula Two had become a mainstay for me, which combined with the club racing work I was doing kept me busy. My next big adventure was covering World Series by Renault for Eurosport. It was the first time I had done live off-tube commentary, which basically meant I wasn’t in Hungary where the racing was, but in a studio in London. It was very odd to be commentating on something live, but not being there and being able to soak up the atmosphere. Luckily, my co-commentator was Tom Gaymor, one of the best around. He knew exactly what was going on in terms of both Eurosport procedures, and the on-track action, and being broadcast on the biggest pan-European channel was a real buzz.

The FIA GT1 Championship in Ordos, China

My final adventure of the season was a biggie. The FIA GT1 World Championship were looking for a commentator whilst Ben Edwards was otherwise engaged covering the British Touring Car Championship. I got the call, and was told to get down to London tomorrow to apply for a Chinese Visa. In April, I was excited because I was going to be commentating at Pembrey for the first time, now here I was in August going to work in China. The excitement was astronomical, and only increased when I was told my co-commentator would be five time Grand Prix winner John Watson. It was the most incredible weekend. I flew out to Beijing alone, before meeting up with a few of the production team for the onward flight to Ordos. From the moment I met those guys in the airport, the whole GT1 team were amazing to work with. The actual races were fairly entertaining, and working with Wattie was exactly as you’d expect, ridiculously fun. Again, the team were pleased with my chatting, and I was able to work for them again at Silverstone and Zandvoort before the end of the season.

It’s a shame in some ways that I’ve tried to keep this blog short. There is so much more I could write on all these experiences, but I just wanted to give you an overview of 2011 from my perspective. Without sounding cheesy (but it will), it’s been the best year of my life, and has completely changed my career.

One man who hasn’t cropped up in my musings so far is Chris Hartley. This was the man who gave me my first chance to commentate on motorsport, at Mallory Park in 2009. It was my then girlfriend’s 19^th birthday, but I knew I could not let this opportunity pass, so thanks to you too actually Maddy! Chris was nothing but encouraging, and I owe him a lot.

For 2012? Who knows. We all know the musical chairs that go on in the winter, this year more than ever, but if I can have as much fun as I have had in 2011 then it’s going to be a good old year.  

2011 FIA Formula Two Season Review

“It’s a game of two halves” say the old, cockney football pundits, but never have I seen such a striking illustration of that cliché in motorsport until this year’s FIA Formula Two Championship.

Below, we have the top eight in the final championship standings listed, with their points total from the first eight races followed by their points total from the second eight races, ignoring the irritations of dropped scores.

                Rounds:          1-8    9-16

1. Mirko Bortolotti             159    157

2. Christopher Zanella       137     58

3. Ramon Pineiro               29     156

4. Miki Monras                  94      59

5. Mihai Marinescu            46      92

6. Tobias Hegewald           66      55

7. Alex Brundle                 59      53

8. Jack Clarke                  42      68 


There are a number of things we can pick up from these statistics. Firstly, the striking consistency of eventual champion Mirko Bortolotti leaps out. Scoring just two points less in the second half of the season proves the remarkable consistency of the young Austro-Italian, who was only missing from the podium on one occasion in each half of the year, in the first races at both Magny-Cours and Brands Hatch.  

Jonathan Palmer gives Bortolotti some tips before his win at Silverstone

Whilst I am in no doubt that Mirko was a worthy champion, this breakdown shows a slightly different story to the 121 point margin he held over Christopher Zanella after the final round in Barcelona. At the half-way mark, after the two races at the Nurburgring, Zanella was hot on the heels of Bortolotti. Less than one win separated the pair of them, but in that midseason break there was a notable shift in fortunes and pace between Zanella and Ramon Pineiro.

Ramon got his act together at Brands Hatch

Pineiro, as can be seen, had a miserable start to the season. The Spaniard had three first lap spins, one at Silverstone then in both races at Spa, and as a result had failed to gain a points total that even vaguely resembled his speed. But at Brands Hatch, things changed. Issues in his personal life were resolved, and on a circuit where he had enjoyed success in the past, Ramon flourished. A second place and a win that weekend were his first podiums of the season, but the Catalan racer would go on to score two more wins at the Red Bull Ring, climbing up the standings to claim a coveted GP2 test. Indeed, in the second half of the year, Bortolotti only scored one more point than him.

Brundle, Marinescu and Bortolotti on the Monza podium

 The opposite was true for Zanella. He would never appear on the podium in the second half of the season, as the form he had early on seemed to disintegrate. Other notable turnarounds were shown by Mihai Marinescu, as the Romanian made changes to his fitness regime, culminating in a win at Monza and a strong end to the season. Jack Clarke too found much more speed in the last eight races, after his maiden win at Brands Hatch, whilst both Tobias Hegewald and Alex Brundle will both be wondering how they didn’t end up on the top step at some point in 2011.

Bortolotti was unquestionably the class act of 2011 in his second year of Formula Two, but he was pushed hard at every race by a group of young drivers that I’m looking forward to seeing progress.