The Long Game

Photos courtesy WorldSBK

In the opening laps of the second race at Phillip Island, Jonathan Rea looked back over his shoulder to see what kind of gap he had over the riders behind him, and how many riders were behind him. The answers - none, and what looked like every racing motorcycle in Australia - were distressing. From the other side of the world, you could hear the long, deep exhalation from Rea in his helmet. He knew he was in for another long day at the office.

The Superbike World Championship season is one of the longest in professional motorsport. It starts in the summer of the Southern Hemisphere, and runs nearly into the summer of the next year down under. The teams race in Europe, from one side of Asia to the other, and throw in a visit to North America. From the first checkered flag to the last, it is 251 days of travel, testing, racing and more travel.

The doubles that two-time and defending Superbike World Champion Rea scored in the first two rounds at Phillip Island and Chang were impressive. But by the end of the season, they'll be relegated to history. What matters most about them, to the top-level teams, are the points that were accumulated in those races, the points that will be tallied up in November, half a world and three-quarters of a year away.

Top-level competitors know that what matters is the long game, where you are at the end. To finish first, the saying goes, first you must finish. But to finish first, you have to be first when it matters - when the flag falls.

Viewing the first two WorldSBK race events of 2017 through the filter of that understanding completely alters your perspective, from an individual race and a season-long perspective. The races at Phillip Island were all chop and change at the front, and to the inexperienced race viewer, looked like desperate battles for the lead. In truth, the front runners were just pacing themselves. Rea said during the first race, he twice tried to make a break for it, and got nowhere. The circuit's long sweepers and fast straight make drafting particularly effective, and the circuit punishes tires, so no one really tried to get away until the last couple of laps.

The races at Chang, which looked boring to the inexperienced, were far more fascinating, as the circuit was one where a racer could build a gap that mattered, so they were pushing, every lap, every corner.

At Chang, Rea was doing race simulations on Friday to get a better understanding of what his Kawasaki ZX-10R would do at the end of 20 laps. He was thinking of the end game. At Chang, Chaz Davies' fall dropped him from a likely podium out of the points and half a minute behind the leaders. Four minutes and 22 second later, Lorenzo Savadori's Aprilia blew up and threw the luckless Italian onto his head. The ensuing red flag bunched the field up, and even with technical problems, Davies dragged his Ducati Panigale R back into sixth. Why race a damaged bike as hard as you can, even though any shot at the win or the podium is gone? The end game.

I had a chance recently to interview Tommy Kendall, who dominated the world of Trans-Am car racing in the 1990s. He talked about racing on the streets of Long Beach, a hot-shot kid who knew he was fast. In this particular race, he shot into second early and drove all over the bumper of the leader, whose car was pushing the front in the early laps. Kendall's car was perfect. He absolutely knew he could get past and cruise to the win.

Then, 10 laps in, "I said, this thing is getting a little loose," Kendall says.

The more experienced driver up front knew that how the car handled in the first 10 laps was pretty meaningless, and had set the thing up to perform better as the tires wore and the fuel burned off. Kendall hadn't yet learned the long game of Trans-Am racing, and spent a long, frustrating afternoon trying to manage a car that was becoming more of a handful with each passing lap, watching the leader drive away from him.

Rea's understanding of the long game, how important it is to be fast when it matters, is reflected in the race laps he leads. In 2016, Rea was only third on the laps led chart at the end of the year, with 104; teammate Tom Sykes led 170, Davies 185. But at the end of the season, it really wasn't even close in terms of the championship.

The long game. It's why the Red Bull Honda World Superbike team wasn't happy about the first two race events, but weren't panicking yet - new parts were on the way. It's why the Aruba.it Racing-Ducati squad were relatively happy after two rounds - Australia and Thailand aren't their strongest circuits. It's why Rea was happy - he'd maximized his points at the tracks where he had the best shot at maximizing his points, the ZX-10R traditionally strong there. It's why Sykes wasn't happy. Looking at the long game, he'd lost the chance to put points on the board at a place where his Kawasaki worked well.

One of the first lessons new racers are taught is to look as far up the track as possible. It's not a bad metaphor for racing in general. Looking at the long game allows a focus on the end game, and allows the racer to plan as best they can to be there and in front at the point when it matters most.