Ah teamwork! There’s no me in team, as David Brent used to observe sagely, but there are often plenty of cocks, as he didn’t. And really, you get to thinking, Lewis Hamilton ought to start sorting himself out. He whines and moans just a tad too much. Watching Lewis and Mercedes team-mate Nico Rosberg on the podium at Monaco, it was impossible to imagine how one human being could ignore another in so many ways in such a confined space. Max Mosley and the editor of the News of the World in the ante-room at the Pearly Gates couldn’t run them close.
Lewis has an alarming habit of not getting along with people, which can’t be good for his prospects. But there’s always a bright side for him, and it’s always in the sublime shape of Nicole Scherzinger, who was instructed to look after Lewis, to take him in hand so to speak, after the turmoils of the Grand Prix, back in their Monaco apartment, rather than go to the royal reception with Prince Albert, which doesn’t sound like much of a do compared to an evening with Nicole. Anyway, Lewis lucked into his only world title many years ago, and time’s beginning to run out. Let’s hope Niki Lauda can sort him out.
The one and only Jonny Wilkinson is every bit as driven and competitive as Lewis but has remorselessly failed to act like a prick. Ever. In fact, he’s becoming a secular saint. He is fabulously bonkers and Buddhist and his refusal to talk about himself at the expense of the team is almost exhausting. The force of his smile as he was held aloft by his Toulon team-mates with the Heineken Cup would have made a dead man weep.

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