Anonymous apparition astray in Andorra

Hola.. It's been a while. I know.. Lots has happened since my last post and I really did come dangerously close to ditching this futile attempt of a log.. So close.. But, I'm back and I did say from the very outset that the silence would be deafening.... 

This time, I've decided to commit my traipsing around in a tiny Andorran portion of the mighty Pyrenees to words. The Pyrenees in January can only mean one of two things = snow-hunting season has begun to ease my snowboarding itch or the search for the abominable snowman. Before reading this sad attempt of a record, consider the possibility of the latter over the former. 

Anyhow, considering the former option as the more likely candidate, there is always something quite exhilarating when after a nine-month hiatus from any snow, one finds oneself strapped back onto that board that has been longingly staring at you. I certainly don’t count the times when I’ve caught myself putting on my boots and strapping myself onto the board in the comfort of my 27°C bedroom in the tropics like a crazed woman. Strapping it on for real, on snow, and getting on the chairlift and looking down at the run you’re about to ride down from is really an indescribable sensation, probably akin to being reacquainted with a long lost friend. 

For a poor snowboarder like me, there’s a fair amount of trepidation laced with a small tinge of fear, out of the corner of your mind when you question whether you might have forgotten how to ride, or perhaps the prospect of utter humiliation when you fall on your ass as you alight from the chairlift. Sidenote: As a unbreakable rule, I never EVER take the T-bars, because to be quite frank, I absolutely, most definitely, unequivocally and unquestionably HATE T-bars. To me it was invented as a cruel (even borderline evil) joke by two-plankers on us snowboarders. 

Back to my random train of thought, so what if I fall? I’ve always maintained that my sole purpose of being on a snowboard is to provide entertainment to the other patrons. I get a good laugh at myself for worrying too damned much! And when I do fall, I cannot help but laugh at myself, much to the entertainment of everyone else! Mission: Accomplished!

Anyway, after mustering whatever little grace there is left in righting myself and strapping on my goofy foot, I set off. My goodness, to be back on my gorgeous board.. After some time, it does come back to you as you get reacquainted with riding the board. Up and down you go, tumbling off every now and then, righting yourself again, it all comes back, the good, bad and ugly. All of it!

I know a couple of my instructors from past excursions would be hopping up an down if they were to see me at my latest destination – Vallnord in Andorra. Yes, Andorra. Thank goodness, they are halfway across the other side of the world! Hehehe! Worry not, how can anyone ever forget Tayler’s constant sitting down on chair analogy while making the heel turn or Megu’s “keep your back straight!” reminders. That, as well as Bianca and Dario’s constant aide memoire to look where the heck I want the board to go, and not down the blasted mountain.

The Principality in the Pyrenees: Andorra 

OK, a little bit about this principality of Andorra, the sixth smallest nation in Europe, nestled in the Pyrenees mountain range between France and Spain. In addition to its tax-haven status, it is almost akin to a shopping (and probably, banking) asylum for residents of the European nations either in its immediate vicinity or slightly beyond. Even though it is not a member of the European Union, it actually doesn’t have its own currency, though everything is traded exclusively in Euros €. 

Anyway, there is an entire street (Av. Meritxell) dedicated to mid- to high-end brands you will recognise. It stretches from the hub of Andorra la Vella all the way up into Escaldes-Engordany. From a Mango outlet store to Bauhaus, Zara to Bershka, hubbies, beware! For a non-shopper like me, who cares not for the perils, ills and trappings of high-street retail therapy, it’s amusing observing the scrunched up faces of partners as they watch their better (or worse) halves, unleashed into the mayhem that is shopping. Rest assured oh those of the opposite sex, all hope is not lost as there are a plethora of sports shops to explore. My three favourites are Tiki Snowboards, ESports Yeti, Kilvil and Viladomat (the latter two being a large chain of sports shops) who have, hands-down, the nicest shop attendants ever. There’s even a massive cycling shop, for those inclined. 

A view of Andorra La Vella (sort of) from Andorra's famous Caldea Spa

By the way, my advice is change whatever currency you have into Euros BEFORE you arrive here. The local banks charge an astronomical fee on top of the exchange rate to change any amount of money; that’s unless you’re changing like a billion US Dollars into Euros, then by all means change (treading lightly here) your money here.



How the pin dropped on the map

Andorra was actually recommended to me by several people, one of whom talked me into it when I saw him at last year’s MotoGP test as I was about to depart for the wonder that was Norway. He said, I paraphrase, “why do you go to Norway? You should try Andorra!” Honestly, it would be very unfair for me to compare the two countries, but I think if you were to put a gun to my head, I would hands down pick the Scandinavian winter wonderland, home of the mythical Norse deities, despite not meeting Loki-aka-Tom Hiddleston.. Why? Well, in a nutshell, Norway is absolutely gorgeous in every sense; from its jaw-droppingly breathtaking landscape to its wonderfully warm charm, even if it is ridiculously expensive and will break the bank in more ways than an outright atomic explosion.

Before I lose it and go on and on about my Nordic experience, I’ll (reluctantly) come back to this small principality. Prior to coming out here, without being egged on by my MotoGP acquaintance, I had read about the historic significance of the Pyrenees, particularly during my reading obsession with Hannibal’s Punic War campaign against the Romans and his overland march across the Iberian Peninsula over the Pyrenees as he sought to punish the Roman Empire. 

So the thought of strapping myself onto my board to ride down what might have been relatively close to one of Hannibal’s army crossing was quite something, even if it is as relevant as cheese is to wallpaper. If you haven't figured it out by now, I am strange, so stuff like that was special to me OK?!

The one and only time I managed to grab a picture of the range, on the gondola up to the station

Having taken the 10,620km trip across I do not know how many time zones, I stepped off the plane in Barcelona before continuing the 200+ kilometer journey by road up to Andorra. I do not know a single soul in Andorra, as is typical in my solo-snowboarding trips. Having had the experience of meeting a wonderful Uruguayan lady in Barcelona, my spirits were quite high. However, as I stepped off the bus in Andorra la Vella, amongst the first thing that greeted me were stares, and lots of it. That isn’t exactly unusual as I normally get stared at as if I have a huge massive witch’s wart on my nose. I am used to it, though I am seriously considering including a proper rustic broomstick and a proper cape instead of a snowboard jacket to my travel ensemble. It would at least legitimise the stares.. Pfft..

Unfortunately, the stares did continue unabated, which did get on my nerves throughout my stay. During my travels elsewhere, it would stop after a couple of days as the novelty of having an Asian-looking girl travelling by herself wore off. And in places like Norway, Switzerland and Austria, I guess once the locals have seen you more than once, they tend to go past the, “oh, look she’s a tourist from Asia,” phase and move about their daily lives and even holler a greeting at you. Here, in Andorra, I continued to endure the scrutinising stares right through from locals and a handful of other tourists through to the end, which is undoubtedly the most uncomfortable thing one can possibly endure.

Though I have harnessed my power of ignorance to a level 1 sorceress stage (one step shy of being a super mage), it does get to you. That did limit my ability to go out exploring a bit, confining the bulk of my time exclusively to the pistes, which is fine by me, really.

With the opportunity to breathe in views like these, I much preferred the company of the mountains

Thereby wanting to confine my time to spending as much time getting to know my snowboard riding it on the slopes, there is one little feedback I would probably offer the powers-that-be in Andorra. Re: skiing / snowboarding tourists wanting to go up to your many resorts - my one constructive feedback would perhaps be to consider increasing the frequency of the free skibus that runs between your beautiful little towns. The irregularity of them makes for a rather chilling wait at the appointed bus stops, which is more often than not, a superbly and insanely long one. Thank goodness for me the weather was especially and perhaps unusually warmer than it should have been in mid-January. Be it down to El Niño or the blue planet shifting axis.. I have no clue. Anyway, had the wait been in the sub-zero temperatures I had to endure in Niseko, I might have been tempted to hitchhike or begged the Coca Cola deliveryman to drop me in La Massana or Ordino-Arcalis.



Stumbling on Charm, Tripping on Kindness

Despite the exhausting wait, there is a flip side, really! You will not be suffering alone, which opens up the possibility of meeting all kinds of people, from all walks of life. I became acquainted with two Argentineans who were wonderfully friendly and we got off talking about all kinds of things. Sadly, I don’t speak any Russian, so I couldn’t really converse with the large Eastern Slavic ethnic group I found myself with on the daily ride up the mountain.  However, I would say, the most important individual I got to know was perhaps the bus driver. 

If you have a sad enough looking face, he’ll take pity and even offer you a seat next to him and even drop you right off on the street you want to be, well, close enough. He’ll recognise you and even if the language barrier is as complex as deciphering the runes on a Dwarfish burial temple, you will kinda guess what he’s trying to convey to you. He even went so far as to once “rescue” my board from the fate of being buried under a landslide of skis, saving it from the torment of scratches, bumps and bruises, nestling it right next to him. Thank you Mr. Bus man!! You have no idea how grateful I am. Alas, it did get scratched on later trips when you were not on driving duty. *sad face*

Avoiding the town centre, you do get to meet some extremely interesting people. Undoubtedly, I find the people I meet anywhere in the world to be quite interesting. I befriended a lovely Argentinean girl I met on one of those arduously long waits at the bus stop, who not only decided to offer unsolicited advise on what to ask the bus driver, but became a great companion as we ended up spending the entire journey talking in English. I begrudgingly admit that I found that to be a very refreshing change to the predominant Eastern Slavic language that I had become rather accustomed to listening to from Alexei, Vitaly, Dmitry, Ekaterina, Zoya, Oksana and their comrades during my trek up to the piste. 

On another separate occasion, I met her fellow compatriot who also offered to help when quite frankly no one else seemed to care, as we battled the insane crowd trying to get on a bus already bursting at the seams. Though I did manage to get on that blasted bus, I didn’t sit with the Argentinean boy but ended up being offered a seat next to three Brits, the first I had seen in many many days. The trio were very cool and befriended this poor Asian girl. Nice guys! 

Pal-Arinsal

Overall, the majority of the people I met in Andorra were not from Andorra, Spain or even France. A large Dutch ski group I met while riding down one of the longest runs I have ever been on in the short time that I had been snowboarding were insanely hilarious, creating quite a ruckus, and made me chuckle as they politely asked me in Spanish to take a picture of their rather eccentric assemblage. When I answered in English, they were overwhelmingly nice and almost embraced me as one of their own, thus befuddling me. Another Dutchman in another group of tourists was also rather friendly asking if I had ever lived in New York (oddly), which started a prolonged conversation about the Rockies and Whistler, suspiciously much to the chagrin of his Spanish girlfriend, whoops. Come on lady, one look at me, and you really cannot possibly think that I would be a threat of any kind! Lol!

Ordino-Arcalis

Anyhow, I once watched a travel documentary that in certain places, some group of tourists from certain parts of the world tend to be more inclined to help other tourists. Given my experience in Andorra, I am inclined to agree, though I must employ a caveat that my experience is by no means exclusive or conclusive or can be categorical proof of any kind. It would be a gross overgeneralisation on my part to say that my experience in the Pyrenees was completely shaped by other visiting tourists from either South America or Northern Europe, as there were those residents who were incredibly nice, in particular, the dude at Kilvil who went above and beyond to gift me a book that I could share with my dad. Very cool guy, thanks Mr. Silver-hair!


Shredding Sideways in the Pyrenees 

I've just realised that I have not mentioned my semi-neophyte non-native experience on snow in any length anywhere in this narrative, my sincere apologies. After some research online, which is by no means the most extensive, I opted on exploring Vallnord, which is home to the two resorts of Pal-Arinsal and Ordino-Arcalis. 

Once you alight the gondola from La Massana, this is amongst the first views of Pal-Arinsal (more Pal actually) in Vallnord

The primary reason is purely cost as the Vallnord lift tickets are not as pricey as some of the preferred Alpine resorts or even neighbouring Granvalira, which is more famous (as it hosts major skiing events in the FIS calendar). The cost factor alone made Vallnord an attractive place for a skiing / snowboarding holiday for the budget conscious especially those hailing from parts of the world where the currency exchange can make one weep for months on end like your's truly. 

Anyway, access to the Pal-Arinsal resort is via La Massana or Arinsal, which is the closest to Andorra La Vella. Ordino-Arcalis meanwhile is a quite a bit further away, located in the northern part of the principality. 

The majority of people I speak to suggest Ordino-Arcalis for snowboarders. On top of the beautiful but long bus ride up, there are more off-piste areas to explore, the runs longer and wider. At the time I went in mid- to end-January, the snow cover (however little) was also a bit better than Pal-Arinsal at the mid-station. 

The views are quite astonishing especially on the La Bassera chairlift that takes forever to get to the top of the run. It goes up almost vertical in parts, facing the rocky cliff face of the mountain, it was admittedly a scary yet slightly exhilarating ride up for me especially if you look behind from where you took off.. 

The views from the bottom of Ordino-Arcalis, with the La Bassera chairlift just visible at the bottom left corner

The reds are hard (in my non-professional and rather beginner opinion), and superiorly daunting as you can see the entire way down from the side of the mountain. The other two chairlifts, doesn't go up as high as La Bassera, but offers up blue and red runs that takes you through pretty tree lines.. And there are the off-piste areas, which while I was there was being used by some professional group of freestyle skiers and snowboarders. Me? I stood in awe watching these guys and gals throw themselves off a temporary shelf from the peak. 

The snow, in this weird springtime climate during my time here in January, was invariably better and more powdery (not by Whistler or Niseko’s standards, of course) in Ordino-Arcalis. Even the green-run on the long 8.5km Megaverda takes you through some stunning scenery, nothing my iPhone camera could do justice to. 

Pal-Arinsal is not that bad, but was insanely crowded (especially on the weekends) and there are those evil and wicked T-bars. *gagging* But, Arinsal is worth a trip up if you're not averse to those damned T-bars. Me, I unfortunately avoided it as I wasn't feeling particularly adventurous that week, therefore rendering this narrative pretty useless to anyone who wants to know more. 

This is the view of the massive O located on the green  Megaverda run, which is a must stop for skiers / 

snowboarders of any levels

Sorry, I am no expert nor an authority in this subject. There are plenty of videos on youtube where you can see how the run from the Arinsal station looks like. My Argentinian friend on skis did go up, and the snow is more powdery than at the middle-station. Before I draw the ire of more accomplished skiers and snowboarders wanting more information, I shall draw a line here on my limited and poor narrative on the snowboarding experience especially my sole intent was to tighten up my riding skills. 


Bottom Line

As I bring this average narrative to a close, I would also say this, if your purpose coming to this little corner of the planet is to enjoy the snow with your two-planks or snowboard, I would strongly recommend coming in a group, not for any security concern, but rather to keep your sanity intact and as a strong deterrent against utter and complete boredom off the slopes. If you are intent on a solo travel, then make sure to stay near to the towns that have access to the ski-lifts. Staying downtown may sound like an attractive idea with the prospect of more dining or shopping options, but if you’re on a budget and are going to rely on the free ski-bus, then be prepared for the absurdly long wait. If your wallet is bottomless, then by all means fork out the €1.80 per trip on the local communal bus. 

Anyway, if you’re like me, Asian, novice rider and solo, and do decide to make downtown your preferred option for accommodation, then steel up the nerves and ignore the stares. Bring a big fat book (I brought Gav Thorpe's bumper Warhammer Time of Legends Omnibus The Sundering) and shut out the crowd with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's entire Die Entführung aus dem Serail opera blasting out of your massive headphones. 

Travel, like anything is about experiencing everything, good or bad, and to that end, I am really happy with my choice, even if not preferred, especially looking from the skewed lens of having had a great experience somewhere else. It is a beautiful country to look at with jaw-dropping views of the Pyrenees. Suffice to say, I am grateful to the few individuals who made my up and down two-week sojourn in Andorra memorable in every sense. 

moltes gràcies!

Another pathetic attempt of a selfie by the author

Racing downtown, the day KL roared to a different beat

Jalan Bukit Bintang on a Friday is NEVER like this..

As a city dweller, it's no secret that we utterly enjoy the sheer serenity and bliss of unclogged traffic and jam-less journeys to our desired destination. Now, if you are a KL city dweller, you will also know that these are ideals that are only ever achievable during the big festive breaks, i.e., Chinese New Year and Eid. I tread lightly here with the caveat that Malaysians love their cars to a fault and will leave it at that. 

For city dwellers whose vocations and livelihoods depend on gainful employment in the city, those are the most blissful days of driving in the city one a will ever get to enjoy. And if you own a manual transmission vehicle, regardless of what your vehicle's engine displacement is, those are the days you actually discover more than the first and second gears - the ones you know so very well - and go from second to third gear, to fourth and even (wow!!), fifth - where the speed limits might allow it, of course. No reason to go off breaking all the rules now, even if that empty straight in front of you is as tempting as a glass of water is to someone who has just crossed the Sahara in mid-summer. Those cameras are still there and still working, believe me.. 

So, on the weekend of August 7th to 9th, KL-ites.. well.. me.. had the unexpected pleasure of driving into the city with virtually no traffic. I could have skated into town if I wanted to, though the last time I did that I ended up with two titanium pins holding my humerus bone together.. Anyway, it was to say the least, unusually - though deceptively - calm in the city that weekend, as KL-ites gave up their cars for a weekend in favour of public transportation to descend into the city centre (bar me, of course). For those who didn't, they stayed home or went about the usual business of clogging another part of the Klang Valley. To bad, you guys missed the party!! 

Why, you may ask? 

Well, for the first time in recent memory (despite almost a couple of decades in the motorsports industry, my memory is not that long), the streets of Kuala Lumpur were for the very first time, closed off for the inaugural KL City Grand Prix weekend. 


A street circuit, like the one in Singapore? 

That was what one lady said to me as I was wandering about the city centre one afternoon during the construction of the KL City Grand Prix circuit. I said, "sort of, Kak. Though this is different." She shrugged nonchalantly and went on her angry way. 

Now the idea of a street circuit in the heart of the capital city is not exactly unheard off, actually. The country's national oil company had on several occasions over the years shut off Jalan Ampang, Jalan P Ramlee and Jalan Binjai before, for their infamous street demos ahead of the Malaysian Formula 1 weekend. BUT, the difference is that, on those occasions the streets were only shut for no more than a day. 

The idea of a street circuit in the country is also not exactly unheard off either. After all there was the Formula e in Putrajaya, but then some argued it was held along the boulevards of the nation's administrative capital, flanked by office buildings where dwellers do disappear on the weekends making it feel like a ghost town anyway. And the roads were only technically closed off to vehicular traffic for no more than 36 hours, thereabouts. 

Ken Smith Motorsport - Winning the 

1973 Penang Grand Prix

Then there was the Penang Island Grand Prix, which was held in the 1970s / 80s, some as part of the Formula Pacific races, which were a series of races that incidentally also included the most infamous street grand prix of them all - the Macau Grand Prix (so, "no, Kak, not Singapore"). Of those from that era, the Macau GP is the only one that continues to run until today. 

Now, speaking from some experience, the thought of closing down the major arteries of the city is a mammoth undertaking, one that comes with mountains of consideration, multiple landslides of bureaucratic red-tape, and finite planning that can make even the most evil man on earth sob like a child. 

And as expected, there were plenty of unhappy campers who had to endure the many inconveniences and unpleasantness spawned from this endeavour. Can hardly blame them, really.. we'll get to that. Headlines screamed the plethora of wrongs, heck, the entire yellow pages A-to-Z catalogue of issues. As Alex Yoong put it to me, "it was to be expected".

In a conversation I eavesdropped in, some folks did ask why it had to be done in the city, when the country already has that butterfly-shaped circuit out in the ladang kelapa sawit (palm tree estate). Another guy answered, why not? "bila depa katup habih jalan nak masuk pi PJ tu, trafik lagi burok dari ni, orang buat bising, depa tak stop pun. hat yang tu pun bukannya buleh nak tengok apa-apa? Hat ni depa tutup buleh lah tengok mentokar racing." (Translated: "when they closed off the road to go into PJ -- I am assuming he means Jalan Universiti which is now a maze of one-way streets that no human can possibly decipher -- people complained but they didn't stop the work. And with that one, it's not like you get to look at anything nice, here you can see nice racing cars".) But that guy was a minority, poor man. 

Well, can't please everyone. 

But the organisers, to their credit, persevered, and the reward was an FIA Grade 2, tough, tight and challenging street circuit that had some of the country's most iconic landmarks as an enviable backdrop, with an equally enviable assemblage of incredibly fast and loud race cars in the city, the likes of which most of us city dwellers might not regularly see. 

Now, there's always something rather special about street circuits. The majority of drivers I've worked with, interviewed, or know have a love affair with it. Racing fans love it. TV loves it. You have to admit it looks great on TV when the cars zip past the landmarks that are unique and particular to that city. Even the entire Formula e championship is built around street circuits in some of world's major capital cities. 

Don't get me wrong, closed circuits have their own unique features, virtues and atmosphere, and the action is different. But, street circuits does one thing better - it brings the racing much closer to the people. Being down with the crowd at the KL City GP, you could see the sense of excitement or at least, curiosity on their faces, some buried underneath the folds of that nasty scowl.. heck, I am an optimist.


It's a bird.. it's .. Super-what?

Granted, KL-ites have seen Jean Alesi, Pedro Diniz, Felipe Massa, Jacques Villeneuve, Michael Schumacher, Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton power their F1 cars on the streets of KL before. Malaysians have even seen their own Jazeman Jaafar at the wheel of an F1 car on Jalan Ampang. 

But, those were demo-runs and not actual races. And they were F1 cars, which everyone in Malaysia is very much familiar with. (Another disclaimer: In past demos, the national oil company had showcased other teams from touring cars / endurance championships and rallying but F1 was always the highlight.) 

This time, the KL City GP was bringing to light other motorsport championships that many have never seen, let alone heard of, unless of course you are a petrolhead and religiously follow all the different race car series that exist in the world, and there are many. 

On top of the KL City GP GT Cup race, there were three championships which were being featured: the junior formula single-seater, open-wheel Formula Masters China Series; the Lamborghini Super Trofeo Asia Series; and finally, the Australian V8 Supercars Championship - arguably one the most exciting championships to hit our shores. 

Wait.... what? What exactly were we being shown here? 

It is probably fair to say that quite a big chunk of the population is familiar with F1, after all we've had 17 years of it here on our own soil. It is also probably fair to say that the vast majority of Malaysians know MotoGP quite intimately, having had the boys on two wheels race in our backyard in Shah Alam and Sepang for a quarter of a century.. oh yeah, *note to self - 2015's Malaysian Motorcycle Grand Prix will be Malaysia's 25th edition .. 

It's also a fact that a significant portion of Malaysians are also familiar with the Malaysian Cub Prix Championship, the country's strongest and best-organised national motorcycle racing championship - hands-down - with average attendances in the tens of thousands at each round. 

So, when whispers of the KL City GP began to circulate, quite a few people that I spoke to were left wondering. As one gentleman kindly put it to me, "if it isn't F1 or MotoGP, what is it then?" OK, pakcik*, here's my attempt to summarise the championships you saw over that weekend - disclaimers apply in favour of my need to simplify:

The Formula Masters China Series - Once upon a time, there was a junior formula championship in existence in this corner of the earth where young go-karters could go to in their pursuit of a racing career in single seaters. It lasted a good while, but like all good things, it started to wind-down. So that category evolved, in name at least, and got a temporary lease of life before eventually fading away, though it did not disappear completely. Anyway, in 2013, a new junior formula category was born - the Formula Masters China Series, taking the honour of being the new platform for young talents to progress their racing ambitions. 

The formula car uses a Tatuus FA010 carbon monocoque chassis, which is FIA F3 standard and is powered by a Formula Evo 2.0 FSI engine from Volkswagen. What is a bit different to its predecessor aside from how it looks is that it comes from and belongs to the same family as its elder racing category siblings - the Scirocco R-Cup China, Audi R8 LMS Cup (where Alex Yoong races), Lamborghini Super Trofeo Asia and Porsche Carrera Cup Asia. They're all under the Volkswagen Group China umbrella and adopt the group's ideals towards talent development. 

The Lamborghini Super Trofeo Asia - is the younger sibling to the Lamborghini Blancpain Super Trofeo Championship, which began in Europe in 2009. After three years in Europe, its growth ambitions took them East to Asia in 2012 with races held in Shanghai, Okayama and Sepang. Comprising a line up of both gentleman drivers and young upcoming GT racers, the championship is touted as the fastest one-make series utilising the jaw-droppingly good-looking and very handsome Lamborghini Huracán. 

After seeing one in action and getting to sit in for a no holds barred ride in a Lamborghini Gallardo recently, the only thing I could think of was - oh mamma mia, è una bella macchina così! per favore, perché??!

Anyway....  the new Huracán has been developed in collaboration with Dallara engineering and is built on the direct-injected V10 engine from the road car. In race trim, the car can generate over a whopping 600bhp...  

Finally, the V8 Supercars Championship - put it this way, the US has its NASCAR, Australia has its V8 Supercars (disclaimer: that comparison is meant as purely perspective). Born down-under with New Zealand in the mix, the V8 Supercars sits in its own wonderful category and is Australia's 3rd most attended sport event and 4th most watched with broadcasts to over 105 countries and territories. The best part is that it's growing, and growing outside of Australia. 

In 2010, the FIA granted the V8 Supercars international status allowing the championship to include events outside of Australia which saw the cavalry race in China, the Middle East and the USA. In August 2015, the championship came to KL as an exhibition event, and what's interesting is that from 2016, Kuala Lumpur will be a championship round, with ambitions to lock in two further venues in Asia from 2017, the same year as the Gen 2 Supercar role-out, designed to allow for the participation of more manufacturers into the series. Interesting. I'm keeping my eye on that. 

Anyway, the action on the weekend itself did not disappoint and is fairly well documented, so I'm not going to write about the results here. Check out the videos, web-reports on the KL City Grand Prix youtube channel or website. 

Craig Lowndes did say it was going to be loud, and bang on the mark mate, it was! And that's another thing that street circuits does better than closed circuits. With it being in the city, the closeness of the circuit to the buildings helps amplify the sound of the monster engines under the bonnets, elevating the sense of excitement on the ground. 

And the excitement was infectious. I could tell that the majority of the motoring enthusiasts that I did bump into at the KL City GP were in their element. Not a single one remained in the comfort of the stifling and gagging air-conditioned media centre, opting to check out the array of supercars on display in the paddock. As they extracted facts from the mechanics, engineers and team owners, it was like being a kid in a petrolhead's version of legoland-meets-universal studios, with the use of the "oohs!!",  "aahs!" and "wow!" being the predominant and prevalent choice of expressions. 

Who needs English.. bahh! #lol

Hello.. I'm a professional race car driver and I'm Malaysian

Daniel Adam Woodroof

But perhaps what was probably more relevant to us, is that the KL City GP was also an opportunity to shine the spotlight not just on the different racing championships, but also the Malaysian drivers that are involved in them. 

In other words, dear Malaysia, motorsports is more than Formula 1 and MotoGP, AND there are many Malaysians who fly the flag in other racing championships around the world, both on four and two wheels. 

Ahead of the weekend itself, I got to speak to two Malaysians - Afiq Ikhwan Yazid (Super Trofeo) and Daniel Adam Woodroof (Formula Masters) - both of whom were thrilled about racing at the inaugural KL City GP and the excitement was naturally palpable. 



Now, if you are a young racing driver, as Afiq and Daniel are, it is worth pointing out that the prevalent understanding and perception is that their ambitions ought to take them to F1, especially when that perception is fed on a constant diet made up of the abundant exposure to F1. The thing is, the KL City GP highlights that motorsports is more than F1, that there are other paths in motorsports, such as the path to becoming professional and successful race car drivers in other, non-F1 series. I mean, look at Le Mans, or WEC, or GTs, or DTM, or V8 Supercars, or IndyCar or SuperGT etcetera.. etcetera.. etcetera.. 

Which brings me to the crux of it.. education. My biggest hope from the KL City GP is that it would be able to provide Malaysians an insight into other championship series, especially those that are more relatable. More importantly, shed light onto those Malaysians who are racing in those championships and deserve our attention, like Afiq Ikhwan, who is incidentally, the only Malaysian inducted into Lamborghini's 2015 Young Drivers Programme. 

That makes me beam with pride. He'll be heading off to Italy soon to help develop the Huracán and I can't wait to hear more about that. Though he had a disappointing weekend, and the accolades went to another Malaysian in the form of Fairuz Fauzy, Afiq's achievements shouldn't be brushed aside altogether either. Yes, he still has a long way ahead of him, and lots to prove, so I'm hoping he'll bounce back, fighting harder! 

Perhaps it isn't too far fetched of an ideal to one day see a successful, professional Malaysian race car driver in any of the international championships, and not just in F1. And, Afiq is not the first as I can list those who have come before him who have notched up their own list of achievements that Malaysians can be proud of, like Fariqe Hairuman (touring cars and endurance racing), Eric Yeo (touring cars and endurance racing), Melvin Moh (who has been busy with AMG's driving academy), Dominic Ang (who is signed up for the Asian Le Mans series for the 2015/16 season) and Weiron Tan (the first and only Malaysian currently racing in the US Pro Mazda Championship, which is part of the Road to IndyCar ladder system) just to name a few. 

In my untrained eyes, I see events like the KL City GP as having the potential to be, at the very least, the catalyst in creating some level of awareness not just for championships other than F1, but also to the plight of other Malaysian race car drivers who have made this incredibly difficult and competitive industry their life's vocation.



Bigger and better 

And now that we know that the KL City GP is coming back in 2016, with dates yet to be confirmed, there is one more thing I wanted to bring up. Understandably with the 2015 event being the first, there are naturally plenty of things to build and improve on. 

But, there were a few aspects that got up a lot of people's skins, such as awareness, information and communication (and buy-in), which -- based on my random sampling of the public sentiment -- were glaringly absent. 

I will say this though - and not in defence of or as a malicious critique - but perhaps the organiser's priorities weighed more heavily in getting certain aspects of the event done over others. In my experience and observations, PR, advertising, promotions, media relations and marketing communications have tended to be secondary priorities that often come in late to the game. 

Perhaps an unfair general observation given that I am aware of and have had experience with two motor racing championships that balances every single aspect of running a championship beautifully and harmoniously well. But they've tended to be exceptions rather than the rule. Again, perhaps an over-generalisation on my part. 

Could that have been the case here? I haven't the faintest clue but I will say this to the organisers: given the reactions in the build-up (negative and positive); the response from the weekend itself and the reviews from the teams, drivers and championships - you've got yourselves a good baseline in which to build and grow next year's event to be potentially (and hopefully) even better. 

Building something like the KL City GP is like a symphony, no one person can whistle a symphony. It takes a whole orchestra to play it, with every single section playing together in tune, in sync and in perfect harmony with each other, so that your audience can understand, buy into and appreciate the music you are trying to bring to them.. 

whoa, that's deep.. But, nuff said, I think.  



*pakcik - uncle

Doing the Yao, as Song and Satnam blaze new trails

With the 2015 NBA and NHL championships done and dusted, it was recently the turn of the life-altering sports ritual that is the Draft. Essentially, it is the gathering of the best young talents for plum pickings by executives and bosses of both leagues’ pro teams. It’s a process that was quite fittingly likened to by an SB journo/blogger as being a “gathering of tribal leaders.” Strangely apt as she went on the describe how the leaders would pick the best talents to be their warriors who from the moment they don the tribal insignia, their identity changes.

Of course, the draft season is nothing new with the NHL and NBA drafts being a time-honoured tradition in American sports. It is the occasion that promotes the work of scouts who are always on the lookout for that hidden gem with them mad ball skills or the magician with the puck on ice. 

So why were the 2015 NBA and NHL drafts so memorable, and potentially relevant for us in Asia compared to the deluge of football stories we immerse ourselves in? After all, as Adriana Lima puts it, fútbol - NOT soccer - is a stratospherically larger sport with an influence that touches every square inch of this blue Earth. And probably enjoys intergalactic relations too, as I am convinced they play 11-a-side on Luke Skywalker's Tatooine and on Leah’s home planet Alderaan before the Death Star destroyed it… 

But rather than unwillingly dive into an socio-sporting anthropology debate one might not ever find a way out of, I think it’s worth pointing out the two significant pieces of news that emerged from both the NBA and NHL drafts this year. First, on June 25, India leaped onto the NBA map when the Dallas Mavericks selected the first Indian-born in the draft. Two days later, the New York Islanders chose the first Chinese-born player in the NHL draft. 

Reaching Out

Now it is worth noting that while both sports have had depth in international talent for some time, what is interesting is the diversity with Asia now providing its own, albeit smaller, share of talent to contribute to the draft pool. 

Yes, yes, the draft is all about scouting the best talent, but one cannot but be fascinated that the search is expanding beyond the traditional sphere of nations, particularly and especially for the NHL. But unlike their court-bound brethren in sleeveless tops and shorts, the NHL has almost always been and continues somewhat to be seen as being predominantly Caucasian, making this year’s draft all the more noteworthy. Compared to their lesser-dressed ball-dribbling hoop-hound brothers and sisters, it has been harder to break the ice in the NHL. Begrudgingly for someone who LOVES ice hockey way more than basketball, the NBA has been the more successful, making much bigger, bolder and faster global strides than their wrapped-up ice-hugging comrades. 

Moreover, the NBA’s international appeal is significantly well-spread thanks to the constant supply and export of mega personalities since the late 1960s and early 1970s. This thanks to names like Shaq or Wilt Chamberlain and Larry Bird before him; the magic Lakers era with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Magic Johnson, and finally the extraordinary man who singlehandedly Space Jammed basketball to a whole new plane of existence. His was a reign so supreme that even marketing executives at the world’s biggest sport football, were taking notes and wanted to be like Mike. That Mike, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, is of course, none other than, Michael Jeffrey Jordan. 

His Airness and his extraordinary band of brothers of past and present, have practically redefined how we look, watch and understand basketball, inspiring a new generation of would-be NBA players. 

Doing the Yao, all the way from Punjab

In Asia, while we were drowning in the greatness that is his Airness, in walked the 7ft 6in Mandarin speaking prodigal son of Shanghai, Yao Ming, who was the 1st overall, 1st round pick for the Houston Rockets in 2002. For Asian athletes, it really does not get any bigger than Yao, cutting a towering figure both physically and symbolically. 

Granted Yao Ming is not the first Asian with other players like Wataru Misaka (the first non-Caucasian Japanese-American point guard selected by the New York Knicks in 1947), Raymond Townsend (the first and only Filipino-descent NBA player from late 1970s) and Wang Zhizhi, who all came before Yao. But unlike his predecessors, Yao’s phenomenal prowess on court had ushered in the Ming dynasty era for the NBA, coincidentally in the new millennia. He single-handedly legitimised Asian basketball players and cemented NBA’s bridge into the Far East, especially when one considers that there are now more NBA fans in China than there are people in the USA. Yao’s impact is monumental. 

Anyhow, Basketball's global appeal is an ever expanding one, hitting all-time highs with an international pool of talent especially when considering that the 2014-2015 NBA season had a total of more than 100 international players, from 37 countries and territories. That is nations from as far as Bosnia and Herzegovina, to the Joga Bonito footballing nation of Brazil; even to the rugby-mad outback of Australia and the land of the All-Blacks Kiwiland, New Zealand. 

Aside from that already impressive statistic, what took place at the 2015 NBA draft on the New York evening of June 25 is at the very least, defining. The Dallas Mavericks with the 52nd overall pick out of the 60-pick draft called out the name of a young 7ft 2in 19-year old from the small village of Ballo Ke in India’s Punjab state just east of the Pakistan border. 

His name, Satnam Singh Bhamara. 

His selection is profound in that he is the first Indian-born player ever to be selected in the NBA draft, made even more significant just three months after Sacremento Kings signed Canadian Sim Bhullar, who became the first player of Indian-descent to sign an NBA contract and play in an NBA game. 

What was also interesting is unlike the other draft candidates who make their way through the collegiate system, Satnam was a member of the IMG Academy and part of a scholarship programme with 28 other student-cum-athletes from his native homeland. That and his selection is groundbreaking because it has opened up a whole new pool of potential talent from India in the future. 

What is also fascinating is how it all started for Satnam who after being exposed to the NBA a decade ago started modelling his game off of Dwight Howard and, more importantly perhaps, Yao Ming. Once again underlining the impact Yao has had on Asian basketball. The big man from Punjab now has the opportunity to do what Yao Ming did, this time for the vast cricket-mad Indian sub-continent and with an impact that could potentially reverberate even further. But I am getting ahead of myself.. 

Skating to a new Song

From the warm, sweat-drenched Basketball courts, something else was brewing in the colder icier climes of the NHL ice. When we in Asia think of hockey, we think of field hockey, played on a green grassy synthetic astro turf. In some psyches, ice hockey is the poncey version North Americans, Northern and Eastern Europeans, Baltic and Nordic nations and Russia play in the absence of grass, albeit with significantly more speed. 

Compared to the NBA, change comes at a much different pace in the NHL. It is unfair to compare apples to ice-cubes, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that African-American players had already begun to appear in the NBA as early as the 1950s with Chuck Cooper (the first to be drafted in the NBA), Nat “Sweetwater” Clifton (the first player to feature in the NBA finals) and Earl Lloyd (the first to play in the NBA) amongst those blazing the way. 

By comparison, it would take more than 30 years before the first African-American appeared in the NHL when Val James played with the Buffalo Sabres in 1982, though Canadian Willie O’Ree holds the accolade for being the first to break the colour barrier with the Boston Bruins in 1961. But, statistically, in a 30-year period since O'Ree broke the ice, up to the mid 1980s only 15 African-Americans or African-Canadians ever made it to the league. 

That ice-scape has however changed dramatically in the last two few decades, with more players of African-descent now not only active in the NHL, but playing pivotal roles in their teams and for their nations, like Montreal Canadiens’ alternate captain PK Subban and 2015 Stanley Cup champs Chicago Blackhawks' defenseman Johnny Oduya, to name a few.

So: two days after Satnam Singh Bhamara became the first Indian to be picked in the NBA draft, and a year after the Washington Capitals selected Australian Nathan Walker -  when the New York Islanders chose the 6ft Beijinger defenseman Andong Song on a balmy Florida evening of Saturday June 27 as their 2015 NHL draft-pick; China had slapshot itself onto the media spotlight in ice-hockey countries and ice hockey hit the mainstream national Chinese media. That's big given that ice hockey had only up to that point been popular in the country’s northeastern-most province of Heilongjiang. The headlines were fitting with Song dubbed “po bing zhe” - the ice breaker. 

Now it is worth pointing out that Song is not the first Asian to break into the NHL. That merit belongs to a Chinese-Canadian named Larry Kwong who donned the New York Rangers kit in 1948. Though his shift lasted literally a New York minute, he left a legacy that has endured for well over six decades. Since Kwong, there have been others, notably Korean Jim Paek (the first Asian-born player to twice win the Stanley Cup with the Pittsburgh Penguins in the 1990s), Hiroki Miura (first Japanese player ever drafted into the NHL with the Montreal Canadiens in 1992, though he never actually played a game) and Yutaka Fukufuji (the first Japanese Asian-trained goaltender drafted by the LA Kings in 2004). 

That Song is the first Chinese-born player drafted to the NHL is significant and could not have come at a more opportune time for China. For this sports-crazed nation who incidentally is also bidding to host the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing, Song’s NHL draft-pick has not only boosted their Olympic bid. It's also potentially ignited and lent the necessary weight toward the nation’s drive to diversify, intensify and amplify its winter sports portfolio, especially when compared to its neighbours, Japan and Korea who already have a solid winter-sports programme. Last week's draft-pick decision has been seen as an important boost to China's sporting ambitions. 

Whilst it is still a long way off before Song actually hits the ice in an NHL kit with Song looking to continue playing at another top prep school and earn a NCAA (collegiate championships) spot for the 2015/16 season, the impact of the decision is already leading some seasoned NHL observers and pundits to equate Song's potential influence and impact on Chinese ice hockey as being as profound as Yao Ming’s. 

While there is real cause for enthusiasm in China, it is a two-way street with some observers also suggesting that through these turn of events, the NHL is taking cue from its ball-dribbling basket-bound cohorts in wanting to size up what is potentially a very, very lucrative sports market in Asia's most populous nation. 



Stirred, not shaken

Admittedly the penetration of ice hockey into the Asia generally is not as strong as basketball, largely due to infrastructural and resource limitations, underdeveloped awareness and untapped interest. But that could all change now. 

While the growth potential of ice hockey is incomparable to the likes of badminton or football, in the prophetic words of the three stripes, impossible is nothing, given that Japan, Korea and now, China are leading the way for Asia. What's also interesting to note is that of the 72 member states in the International Ice Hockey Federation or IIHF (full, associate or affiliate), 16 are Asian nations (including Arab states, excluding Central Asian republics) with Japan being amongst the oldest members (1930). Korea and China are relatively recent additions having joined the IIHF in the early 1960s. 

Malaysia's Jazura Girls Ice-Hockey team after winning the Lion City
Ice Hockey Tournament in March 2015 (Photo: Team Facebook page)

And much closer to home, Thailand, Malaysia and Singapore are IIHF members too. In Malaysia, the administration and organisation is still at its infancy with little to none international competitive exposure, YET. But there is a promising pool of talent with our Malaysian girls who won the Lion City Cup Ice Hockey Tournament earlier this year. Now, with the path, however small, opening up towards legitimising Asian ice-hockey players vis-a-vis our NorthEast Asian neighbours, all this information is perhaps a nice boost given that the 2017 SouthEast Asian Games in Malaysia will feature two winter sports for the very first time - ice skating and, drum-roll please - ice hockey! Realistically, it is a dream but there are, at the very least, "what ifs" in the making. 

Bottom line, is it suffice to say that now that the NBA has drafted a player from India, and the New York Islanders have selected it’s very first Chinese-born player in the NHL draft is bringing both sports to the verge of a revolution? Perhaps not, but what it does mean is the continued shift in attitudes towards talent, to some extent, irrespective of where that talent springs from. Perhaps there are other considerations, like economics and global marketing rights expansion in the world’s most populous regions? 

Whatever the motivation, conversely these events could also spell a shift in attitudes towards certain sports. A more globally connected world at a click of a mouse or a tap of a keypad has had an influence on sports that might have been predominantly geographically and/or genealogically stereotyped, be it basketball, ice hockey, alpine skiing or whatever. That it has potentially paved the way for a greater embrace for diversity in sports - in as wide of a sense as possible, is to little naïve ole' me, really refreshing.

Somehow this sprung to mind - Veni, Vidi, Vici
So, go forth Song and Satnam!! 

more: the best moments from the 2015 NHL Draft
more: a review of the 2015 NBA Draft