Dear Dairy,
What a sweltering hot afternoon in Valencia.
The Spanish gave us siesta and also a boring race track - marry the two together and you got just that this afternoon. Boss Rawn was more concerned about the cricket score than the GP. The only excitement was when me so-called-mate whinging Webbo got on the radio to complain about me cutting him up at the chicane! But he eventually lost out anyway, coz after losing out on a podium place the Aussies lost the Ashes as well.
Before the race Boss Rawn said, to show no hard feelings after Germany, that I should swap cars for the weekend without telling me mate Barry Chello. I was only too happy to oblige and guess what - he came 1st!
I drove like a sirocco down a dry dusty driveway, but I still couldn't catch me old team mate. I use the word 'team mate' (actually, two wor...
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