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I’d Like to Apologize to the Entire Red Bull Team

Some days motor racing can be cruel and for Red Bull today it was unfortunately one of those days.  (Christian Horner)

I don’t know — from where I stand, motor racing seems cruel most days.

Red Bull undeniably has had some of the more spectacular ups and downs this season, but I think the fact that both their drivers are still in contention for the title shows that the ups have outweighed the downs, on balance.  Yes — let us dwell on that in this dark hour.

Seriously, though, guys — what the hell?  Sebastian Vettel is out in front, the way nature intended; I innocently run into the kitchen to make a sandwich, and the next thing I know, his engine is kaput and he’s out of the race?  Is that sort of thing really necessary?  What gives?

But. . .wait.  I’ve now just remembered another terrible Red Bull incident that roughly coincided with me making a sandwich: Mark Webber’s terrifying airborne crash in Valencia. Not only were both of these incidents me-making-a-sandwich related — they were me-making-a-turkey-sandwich related.

I think there’s only one conclusion that can be drawn here: this was entirely my fault.  There’s no need for Renault to apologize; I was the unwitting cause of the engine failure.  If I had known that my sandwich making had such terrible consequences, I would have eaten something else — a frittata, maybe.  I’ve safely made those during races before.

Never again. Not during a race. (© National Turkey Federation)

I realize you might be skeptical about this connection.  I can understand that.  However, if you don’t mind my saying so, you probably don’t have all the facts.  For example, did you know that my clothing choices on a given game day can determine whether the Chicago Bears win or lose?  Wielding this sort of power over teams I care about is a burden, let me tell you.  I never asked for it; it’s simply something that’s been thrust upon me, and I have no choice but to use it as wisely as possible — and not to just go around making whatever sandwiches or wearing whatever shirt strikes my fancy.

All I can do now is promise Red Bull and their fans that, going forward, no more turkey sandwiches will be made by me during races.  In fact, to be on the safe side, I just won’t make any sandwiches at all, turkey or otherwise.  (And I probably won’t wear this shirt again, either.)


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