MotoGP: Trackside—what telemetry and television doesn’t show

The intense television coverage from Dorna and the swarm of websites that write about MotoGP generate an avalanche of images and reports that can allow someone sitting at home on the other side of the world feel as if they have the same information as if they were right there at the track. But in reality, it’s not quite the same; it can’t be the same.

There are many things that will never be seen or understood if you are not right where the action is taking place. What's more, there are things that even the sophisticated data collection systems mounted on the bikes are not capable of capturing. This is demonstrated by the majority of teams now employing "track coaches" who position themselves at various vantage points on the side of the track to study the riders in action: Luca Cadalora, Wilco Zeelenberg, and Davide Tardozzi are just a few of the former racers who handle these important roles for teams. What can these mere humans add to a technically saturated environment like MotoGP, where everything is measured and analyzed with sophisticated computer programs?

It turns out that the engineers have had to surrender to the evidence that having someone trackside observing and listening to what happens is an essential component to get the most out of all the sophisticated technology. And in this regard, going trackside during the MotoGP tests was especially revealing as to the behavior of the different bikes and paying attention to the body language of the riders.

For example, sitting at the edge of the track in Sepang, it was possible to observe Jorge Lorenzo’s daily evolution aboard his new motorcycle. The fiasco of the first day where he languished outside the top ten and left him bewildered as to a solution forced Lorenzo to stop and analyze what happened. The help of Michele Pirro and Casey Stoner was certainly key in his metamorphosis that took place over the final two days.

The second day, it was clear how he began to explore different options, trying various positions on the bike, moving on it in a different way each time he went out. Little by little, he attempted to understand how to get the most out of the Ducati’s advantages, and realized that with the Desmosedici, he needed to be much more aggressive. After eight years of braking earlier so that he could set turn entry speed on the Yamaha and cornering in long, rounded arcs, Lorenzo needed to overhaul his riding style.

The approach is simple…in theory. Lorenzo needed to exploit to the maximum the Desmosedici’s biggest strength: its engine. And how does one do that? By minimizing the time navigating through the corners. If the Ducati engine is the most powerful and fastest in the category, the longer you use it, the better.

Trackside, it was clear how Lorenzo— as he continued running more laps on the Ducati—was evolving his riding style. His corner entrances on the third day looked nothing like those of the first day. But his corner entry, the transition from upright motorcycle to hard lean angle in search of the apex is still not natural. What he did instinctively with the Yamaha, he still has to think about with the Ducati.

His body language, which reveals so much about how a rider feels on the bike showed that Lorenzo still does not feel comfortable with that riding style. However at each successive exit from the box, you could see how he was taking a step forward; Lorenzo is not a three-time MotoGP world champion by sheer luck.

Walking for hours on foot along the access road bordering the Sepang circuit under a scorching sun is uncomfortable, but it allowed me to see and understand why two rookies like Johann Zarco and Jonas Folger of the Monster Tech 3 Yamaha team did so well there. It was certainly not a coincidence. Yes, both had been there with Yamaha in November, but that wasn’t the reason why. Because after three days of testing, every team had had time enough to set their bikes up as best as possible. Again, from the edge of the track it appeared that there is something about the Yamaha M1 that facilitates rider adaptation.

And much of that has to do with Yamaha being the bike that keeps the wheels aligned the best when braking and accelerating. The front and rear wheel stay on the same axis, meaning the motorcycle’s two points of support work in the same direction. Does that make sense? To fully understand, just remember the behavior of the HRC RC213V, the true antonym to the M1.

The image of Marc Márquez with a misaligned rear wheel entering or exiting a corner is something we have seen a lot of. A "misalignment" that happens in critical moments like under braking, when the rear of Honda tries to overtake the front. You have to do nothing more than compare the braking of Marquez and Rossi to visualize what we are trying to explain.

Both are hard brakers (though Crutchlow is probably the hardest braker in the field). But while the Spaniard brakes with his rear wheel skidding side to side in the braking zone, the Italian does it with his bike solidly “fixed” to the front wheel axis. So, having two points of support working in the same direction instead of separately is much easier on less experienced riders like Zarco and Folger.

Another interesting detail that could be seen trackside—in this case heard—is the different characteristics of the engines during the acceleration phase. For instance, comparing the Honda and Suzuki at the first crack of the throttle, when the traction phase begins.

Suppose that Andrea Iannone's GSX-RR has a scale of 0 to 20 when opening the gas before the acceleration goes into crisis and the traction control and/or anti-wheelie goes into action to reduce power. This same scale for the Honda would be five points, that is, its margin would go from 0 to 5. What happens on this smaller scale? While opening the gas a bit too hard on the Suzuki creates little drama, the same error with the Honda, because of its smaller margin, can hinder the acceleration and/or the beginning of the traction phase.

This was only comprehensible while standing trackside, listening to the different motorcycles pass the same point again and again. As I said, neither the telemetry nor the television captures that. And the same goes for explaining the next concept...

We will build on the comparison of the Honda and Suzuki engines. The character of each serves to explain the difference between a bike that is actively ridden and another that requires a reactive riding style. Márquez’s Honda was clearly a reactive bike, that is, a bike in which the rider follows what the bike does and is constantly correcting it. This type of motorcycle demands a lot from the rider, both physically and mentally, and to be effective the bike needs aggressive riders.

Active bikes are those that allow the rider to take the initiative. It is the rider who dictates the times and puts the bike where he wants. The Suzuki is an example, but the Yamaha M1 is an especially good illustration. They are predictable bikes which can be ridden to their limits and forced to respond to the rider’s will. To do the same with a reactive bike, you need the skills and determination of Marc Marquez or the bravery of Cal Crutchlow.

As stated earlier, it is one thing is to watch and quite another to observe; it is one thing to tell and another to listen. These are just some of the differences that exist—some.