[Note: Each year, Jason Weigandt’s rich and very old British Uncle fires off a letter, via snail mail, with predictions for the Monster Energy FIM Motocross of Nations. Here’s his 2022 edition, as biased as ever.]
O ‘Ello! Lord Alfred Weigandt here to fire off my annual missive on the World’s Most Prestigious Race in the World, the Trophy des Nations, this weekend held back in Septic Tank (Yank) land at Red Budds Creek, USA. Stadiumcross style American circuits no longer can even hold Yank victory plans I place. While we know the Americans have gotten lucky at this event a record 22 times, I also know that fortune favours the bold. And this weekend is going bolder than when I open me flask and throw a little of great grampas energy drink into me morning tea! Ah, see, it might seem likely for Team USA to win again on home soil, but the mistake is in picking the most obvious offense in a battle waged and won with cunning, wit, and wisdom. The Americans will charge into the fray with bare chests and pride. Meanwhile, they will find their competition waiting in the ruts, where they least expect it.
Let’s start with the American team itself, led once again by Ellis Tomac, multi-time member of non-winning American squadrons. Look, racing and sport may have morphed into a “trophy for everyone” mentality, but poor Ellis could clearly argue otherwise. Raised as a bicycle racer but realizing his could never win the Tour de France on enemy soil (unless he were to make deals with the Devil like Lance ArmsareonlystrongifIusedrugs) he then switched to motorbikes. Seemed like a pertinent decision for a young Ellis, as Americans were routinely lucking into the Chamberlain Trophy when he was just a lad, but he did not realize the French army was coming for him on his own turf! Now, I’m no fan of the French but you have to respect their war games strategy, most of what was laid out in front of them by Churchill. There is no try. You must succeed! First, they defend their own land, then they advance across the beaches. This was the case the last time the Americans hosted this race, when Ellis, expecting easy victory at RedBud Creek, found out the track was actually more like Red Blood! Am I right!? Haha! The French had breached all defenses, raising the Tricolours in victory. Poor Ellis. He’s been scared away ever since.
He is now back this year, believing the French team to be in a weakened state, and also not having to face the spectre of Sir Jeffrey with the Dutch. But as typical the American ranks are too obsessed with individual honor, fame and riches to truly understand the team concept of this event. You call it capitalism but I call it capitulation. Team USA has actually taken the rider who pushed Ellis Tomac to the brink of mental and physical exhaustion, Chase Sextonne, and put him on the same team as Ellis! Tomac and Sextonne have grown to break each other’s will after a season of relentless trench warfare. Ah, if only my great grand children were able to finally find the MeTube film of Ray, Nicholson and Rist dominating the event for the Union Jack at the first-ever ‘Nations in ’47. The British Invasion! Goggle it, Lads.
Chase’s Sextonne’s lack of focus is already borne out in his surname. Typical of the young Hollywood Americans, will probably be living up to his billing, “chasing” a “tonne” of, ahem, skirt, while poor Ellis will be left alone, the only one able to focus on the task at hand.
Oh, and when Mr. Ellis focuses, what will he see? A French squad that has out flanked and out Foxhill’ed him! For Team France purposely took Dylan Ferrandis, already proven capable of defeating Tomac and Sextonne in rough, scrambles tracks last year, and held him out of competition for most of 2022. He comes in fresh while Tomac and Sexton ride in a weakened state after battling each other all year. Trust me, the French understand the power of surrender. When Mr. Ferrandis waved the white flag to his #1 plate, he did it with purpose, knowing others would fight the battle for him, and then he would be liberated when it mattered most. The French have used this ruse before!
Plus, the French have experienced veteran Marvin Musquin at the controls of the 125. This is a man who has won des Nations on homesoil before, unlike this American team. Again, Musquin did not waste his powers on meaningless American “National” moto-cross championships this year. He, like Ferrandis, waited and rested until it was time. Whilst unfortunate that Thomas Vialle has chosen not to take up arms this weekend, as he has already fallen hard for American Stadium Cross (which, unfortunately, will probably dole out its share of hard falls for the young Frenchman soon, as it always does), Marvin will more that do. The French are in good hands as Musquin is a life-long thorn in Tomac’s side. He will no doubt float like a bee but sting like a butterfly this weekend. Combine that with Renault “Maximum” Maxime and the Tricolours have quite a trio!
Attacking those French head on is not recommended. Tomac, Sextonne, and Cooper Justin will try to meet the army head on, only to find the Ferrandis/Musquin end around catching them by surprise. This is a chess match, lads. So, to top both the Americans and the French, the Brits are prepared in ways no one saw coming.
Unbeknownst, the Americans have left the keys to the castle by the way side, opened the gates and allowed the enemy to study their moves. All hail the new Kings of Moto-Cross, the Australians! The French want to play games of run, hide and seek? Well, we Brits can do one better. History will show the Australian team is merely a commonwealth of the British Empire. This weekend is when the Australians and the Brits will indeed cash in on that common wealth! Can you imagine any plan more bold than shipping our most reckless, fearless, law-non-abiding citizens to a remote island for generations of training in motorsport? America, you take your Millsips Training Facilities and I will raise the stakes with an entire nation island of uncontrollable Brits, with the anger now turned to from jail cell bars to the Renthals of a Honda. When the Lawrence brothers unfurl the Australian flag on the podium, you will see they still respect the Union Jack! It was all a set up! It was all a ruse! All Hail the Queen, may she rest in peace, may we never forget the Chamberlain Trophies we won under her reign and guidance. But King Charles has been waiting decades for his shot at the throne. He knows the best things come to those who wait. This weekend, the wait is over! (As is the weight, in terms of Mr. Sex “Tonne.” Oh haha I just soiled me knickers with that one!)
Please follow. After their generations of training at the Australian Training Facility, we then shipped the Lawrences over for a quick education in European Grand Prix excellence, punishing them in the harsh sands of Belgium and the Netherlands, where many a pint of blood was spilled in the world’s toughest battles. Then, unbeknownst, they headed to America to soak up lessons in RedBlood soil, heat, humidity, hamburgers, and whatever other things pass for “culture” in America (your famous rock music is merely a copy of the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, Goggle it, Lads). In short, the Australian Lawrence brothers now have the same home turf advantage the Americans do! Haha! Further, if they’re in need of assistance, we have the most experience team at the event right next door, with Mad Max Anstie, Dean of Studies Wilson and the Tommy Can You Hear Me Searle willing to play a mean pinball if that’s what’s needed.
This weekend, then, when the Lawrences carry that proud Union Jack-clad flag to the top of the stage, after outdueling the dodgy French, and out smarting the inept Americans, our new King will begin his reign with a new proclamation: Australia has merely been part of the United Kingdom all along! Team GB is second in total wins at this event, but with this team, our climb back toward America’s run of victories starts this weekend! Next stop, a record 23 trophies, with the young Lawrences there to lead us to the future. For I know who will be on top: the lads from down under!
