It was party time at Molesey this week to celebrate Simon’s birthday and, as with all the best parties, birthday boy had to buy and provide the food. His choice? Cakes. Lots and lots of cakes. Nice one Simon! There were pink ones, yellow ones, chocolate ones and ones with little sprinkles on top. No candles though. Cheapskate. Mind you, given the amount of explosive lighter fluid that everyone uses at the club and the fact that the track was being cleaned with white spirit and the clubroom was thick with fumes, no naked flames was perhaps a wise decision. Boring, because an explosion would have been epic, but wise.
To make amends after last week’s faux pas with the milk, Mario didn’t bring a cow with him, but instead four pints of milk. Four pints?! Christ, just how much did you drink last week Mario? In a fortnight’s time when it’s turned rancid because not enough tea and coffee has been drunk to use it up, you’ll get a bollocking for leaving old milk in the fridge. As the last Trip Advisor review of Molesey SCC so succinctly said: “Fabulous track. Sh*t catering.”
Sticking to the food theme (don’t worry, there was a race, more of which later) David arrived and decided that the perfect preparation would be to take one of the prettiest pink cakes, decorate it with Smarties from the sweetie drawer and use the sugar hit to improve his driving. Trouble is, the sweetie drawer was empty of Smarties and it took David until the mid-race tea break to discover that “someone” had Sellotaped them to the clubroom’s ceiling out of David’s reach. That’s the great thing about Molesey. It teaches empathy. People are exposed to others less fortunate than themselves, learn to identify their weaknesses and then mercilessly exploit them to maximum advantage. None of that snowflake Gen Z wallowing in self-pity here. This is old-school racing. Survival of the fittest, and all the better for it.
So yes, the race. Julian was in a league of his own, Simon in a second league of his own until his front wheels fell off – damned plastic wheels – but the third league (losers, misfits and assorted old people) was where the best racing was. Terry took third with what statistically was the night’s most consistent drive, and Alex and David enjoyed a close battle for best of the rest, never more than three seconds apart, Alex eventually winning that one to take fourth overall.
Despite a late 8.40pm start, the racing was finished unusually early, 10:32pm. Why? Nobody knows. Perhaps it was the sugar rush from all the cakes, perhaps it was the white spirit fumes. Either way, it had been a great birthday party. Happy birthday Simon.