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DICTATOR BERNIE MAY HAVE MET HIS WATERLOO.
Can you imagine Arsenal turning up for a match without boots and then asking Manchester United to play in bare feet. They would be laughed out of existence. What if Tim Henman forgot his racket and pleaded with the umpire to force his opponent to palm a sponge ball over a net? After all, nobody wants to disappoint those paying customers.
It would be a nonsense. Now tell me how the argument put forward by the Formula One teams responsible for wrecking Sunday's U.S. Grand Prix is vastly different.
Seven manufacturers simply turned up at Indianapolis with the wrong tools for the job and proceeded to squeal and moan because those who bothered to arrive with the right equipment refused to make allowances for their incompetence.
So let's slam on the brakes of the bandwagon here and point out that, despite the clap trap of the last 48 hours, the Formula One organizers and Ferrari are not responsible for the costly debacle that blighted our TVs.
The blame lies squarely with Michelin for providing a tyre incapable of withstanding the rigours of racing and with the teams signed up to use them - McLaren, Renault, Williams, Toyota, Red Bull, Sauber and BAR - for their refusal to adapt.
Motorsport fans who felt justifiably cheated should fire their anger, disillusionment and lawsuits in that direction, not hurl beer cans at Michael Schumacher's car in misplaced frustration.
Michelin brought a new meaning to the phrase dead rubber. After this dereliction of duty the company must be finished in F1.
How this huge multi-national turned up in America with a tyre unable to deal with the stress of taking Indianapolis's famous banked turn at 180mph for even 10 laps is beyond understanding.
Cars have been racing around that bend since 1909, so they had enough time to prepare a tyre more durable than a party balloon. Yet, because of this flaw, the affected teams lobbied for a chicane to slow everyone down.
Ferrari, running on Bridgestones, refused, wondering why they should be handicapped for their ability to run at optimum speed. They had a point, too. If other cars needed to operate at a slower pace, their drivers had only to lift their foot off the accelerator. Why use a hastily-built barricade to drag others back?
Worse, the seven teams busy complaining refused to take the sanction incurred for changing their race tyres after qualifying. And Michelin had already been warned about sacrificing safety in pursuit of performance after Kimi Raikkonen's flat-spotted front tyre destroyed his suspension in the European Grand Prix.
Sowhen the seven rebel outfits began banging on that a chicane was needed fopr driver safety, you knew it was hogswash. There had been enough warnings. In fact the row had little to do with the drivers' well-being and everything to do with a power struggle within Formula One.
That is why they went through the meaningless and embarrassing charade of the warm-up lap before diving into the pits. They were making a very public point.
Quite simply, the teams want to run the circus. Having watched the sport's promoter, Bernie Ecclestone, bank billions from the Grand Prix circus, they want the loot for themselves and are planning a breakaway series in 2008. With Ferrari the only major team who have refused to contemplate a split, this was a perfect chance to set down a marker.
As Ecclestone floundered when questioned by ITV's excellent Martin Brundle on the grid moments before the race, that split seemed an inevitability. Brundle asked: "What's going on, Bernie?" Ecclestone replied: "I don't know. What is going on?"
With that, F1's little napoleon was exposed. The manufacturers had him on the skids, tyres or no tyres, and the sight of two red cars racing only one another might become horribly familiar.
In the past, Ecclestone would have been able to round up more than six cars and make the race happen, but here he looked powerless.
When the Grand Prix history books are written, they will show the battle of Indianapolis was Ecclestone's Waterloo.
