With a lull in the action, I thought I might give a short talk, on the origins of handicapping in motor racing.
My Grandfather was a driver, from the earliest days of racing. He built himself a racer, at his London garage. He was a purveyor of petroleum distillates, and automobiles to those of breeding, and wealth. The car I believe, was a Studebaker, which he stripped of all but essentials. The bodywork he created, was the latest in streamlining technology, made of the lightest of materials - some kind of wood, and shaped like a boat. He raced at Brooklands, exactly 100 years ago, and with some success.
As cars of that time, were often homebuilt specials, and class rules were rudimentary, a method of ensuring close racing had to be devised. The rules my grandfather fell under, were to simply have cars handicapped by time. Each car would set off on a fixed number of laps, according to it's performance in previous races.
The art of racing falls under various categories, and the one pertaining to my Grandfathers success, eludes to his ability to do particularly well, after succumbing to several poor performances. This was likely to have been the case for a number of the front runners.
Few people now realize, how prevalent betting was, in the years before the 2nd World War.
My Father attended many races at Brooklands, with his Dad, and usually took a camera with him. The paddock scenes look much like, what you'd expect to see at a horse race nowadays. There were touters, and paraphernalia, and a large stanchion, which showed the latest odds, for the drivers competing in the next race. It's possible there was even a circling ring, so that punters could listen to engines, and check the health of tyres, before the off. This is something missing from modern tracks, as well as those in Legends.
If laying odds, I wonder how our various drivers would, 'stack up,' on a race by race basis? There is intrigue lurking at UKGPL, in that I find we have a presumed tout, aliased under the name of BookieW. I'm not familiar with racing here, prior to my arrival, but wonder if competition had been making an aborted return to its roots. Beware, the tax man cometh!
