Video: A love letter to last-lap racing battles

Jason O’Halloran, Tarran Mackenzie, and Bradley Ray gave us a lovely reminder of this with an awesome dogfight to the finish line of the British Superbike Championship Race 2 at Thruxton, riding a trio of Yamaha YZF-R1s.

Bike racing is better than car racing for more reasons than I have time to list, but one of my favorites is that motorcycles are narrow and agile, easy to throw into a small space between your rival and the checkered flag. Motorbikes are so narrow, in fact, that there can be more than two fighting for the same piece of track and still be on the racing line. More or less. 

These three riders put that to the test, among other things, consistently through the last five corners of this race. This 30-second clip is a brilliant snapshot of so many terrific nuances of a three-bike battle, from individual skill, to racecraft, to blind ambition. I’ve watched it a few dozen times now and the same tentpoles of excellent racing always stand out.

First, as the riders fling the bikes into the ultra-fast Church Corner and O’Halloran dives under Brad Ray, both rear tires break into wandering, smearing slides as their knees touch down and they sight their way through the corner. Losing the rear end on corner entry is a strange feeling and a precarious place to be on a race track. This alone is exactly the kind of bike attitude that would probably raise the eyebrows of the fastest track rider you know, and yet these guys were already thinking one corner ahead.

Locked nose to tail, O’Halloran and Ray exit the corner dying to get the edge on the other rider and so each of them breaks into a lurid slide, one after the other, leaving behind tire smoke and the dreams of Pirelli engineers. Again, sliding a slick-shod superbike at triple-digit speeds is something most of us can only dream of. Doing it out of desperation makes it all the more genuine and beautiful.

Side by side, full tuck, and wide open on the left-leaning sprint toward the final chicane, it was probably a little disheartening for the two leaders to see the number-one plate of Tarran Mackenzie streak around the outside through Brooklands. It’s often good to be the third rider in a three-way scrap, for the perspective it offers and the strategy that can come from it. Plus, as commentator Jamie Whitham bellows, Mackenzie got the double draft.

That draft, combined with a rush of adrenaline in taking the lead, appears to bite Mackenzie as he fires into the tricky entrance to the Club chicane. He brakes a shade too late and can’t hold the line as tight as he wanted. There may have been a moment when he questioned if the front tire would hold. Pinch the lever a little harder to stay on line and possibly end it all? Or hope that the current arc and trajectory will do the trick? These are sweaty, breathless calculations computed in an instant.

Worst of all, now his enemies have him in the crosshairs. Mackenzie goes from predator to prey in about eight seconds. Still, at this point he has the advantage, being first to both apexes of the right-left-right chicane and master of his own line exiting onto the final straightaway. Plunging into the lead with abandon should pay off, dammit, and he’s winning.

But oh, what the noxious perfume of victory can do to a racer’s senses as they see the checkered flag waving in the distance. He knew he could win. He knew the riders behind were struggling with grip. He knew his rivals didn’t have anything more than he did. Then again, something about being able to touch an object can make us want to reach more quickly, and Mackenzie pulled the trigger a little too hard. Our old friend wheelspin was back, as his rear tire cried “no more.”

The champion’s teammate, Jason O’Halloran, is behind in the final few turns. Outbraked, outfoxed, outdone. However, as any good racer in this situation should, he exits the final corner with the same belief that he can win. And that the bike next to him is the same as his. The same brand, the same team, with the same torched tires. Showing that he’d learned his lesson from Church Corner 20 seconds earlier, O’Halloran stands his R1 up on the center of the tire and begs the bike to wheelie rather than slide. When it does, he almost saws the nose off his garage-mate’s machine but he gets to the line first, and wins the battle.

Poor old Bradley Ray was practically a passenger for the whole ordeal, leading with five turns to go and only a spectator for the wild lunges ahead of him. I enjoyed the marked relaxation in his body language after Mackenzie drafted past. Losing two positions in two corners wouldn’t have been part of the plan, but the good news was he wasn’t going to get passed again. 

Third of three, he could think through how he wanted to attack the last few seconds of the race and hope for a mistake or miscalculation from the two other riders — another brilliant facet of three machines locked in a tussle. Unfortunately, O’Halloran had the same thought and executed it perfectly, without leaving room for an attack from behind.

It is an epic display of riding all around. That amount of willingness to flirt with the ragged edge of a motorcycle’s capability on a track, and to do it so close to other riders, shows a blend of confidence, trust, and mettle that we only ever see at the highest level of racing. Even then, we don’t see it often.

Let this be a reminder, then, that every sport has its doldrums. Let the frantic elation of Steve Day and Jamie Whitham wash over you. Bask in it. Cheers also to British announcers, by the way, good when things are boring and great when things are exciting. Most of all, here’s to buzzer-beaters, game-winning homers, and last-lap clashes. Don’t forget to appreciate the good ones when we see them.