It’s hard to measure exactly what aspect of any given motor race excites punters the most. But if we use the tone of voice adopted by MotoGP’s various television pundits as a yardstick, the answer in Japan was clear: Pedro Acosta.
And one suspects that the mixture of volume and reverence among the broadcasters when Acosta was doing absolutely anything on screen was indicative of what was going on in front rooms around the world. Because Acosta’s story – dare we say it? – is more compelling than the championship battle right now.
The 20-year-old MotoGP wunderkind was pure box office all weekend at Motegi. There were moments in practice when his utter ease weaving the KTM through some of the circuit’s more sweeping corners caught the eye in a way only generational talents can. At times it looked like he was welded to his RC16 as he slung it into those turns. The virtuoso riding alone was enough to justify raised voices from Simon Crafar and colleagues.
And that’s before you even consider the compelling Acosta narrative. It’s founded on the weight of expectation the Moto2 world champion carried with him even before the 2024 campaign began. Having simmered down when he and his KTM – a private one, let’s not forget – hit a comparatively fruitless mid-season, this seemed to have come back even stronger as he headed into Japan showing renewed signs of form.
The feeling that he was on the brink of his best proved entirely justified at this admittedly strong circuit for KTM. Stepping into this new, hotter spotlight with a true sense of theatre, he stormed to his first pole position on Saturday. The stage, as they say, was set.
But galloping to his first win, seeing off the reigning double world champion to boot, would be too obvious a script. Instead, the glorious unpredictability of sport kicked in.
He had us all fooled for a while in the sprint. That pass on Bagnaia was typical of the logic-defying moves he’s delivered from the very get-go in Qatar. You feel something has to give when he brakes so late and flings it in with so much speed. You always do with this kind of Acosta overtake. But then he nails that apex, so tight to the kerb that a snake would be hard pressed to wriggle through.
The trademark move to regain the lead he’d lost at the start looked like destiny playing out. But that merely set the hero up all the better for his fall. And in motorcycle racing, you may take the word ‘fall’ quite literally.
But what a setup that made for Sunday. It wouldn’t be surprising if the prospect of Acosta’s shot at redemption attracted a few eyeballs that might ordinarily have given the Japanese Grand Prix a miss. Particularly, one imagines, those belonging to casual viewers who can take or leave MotoGP. This is the stuff they make movies out of, after all.
"We know we’re not at Ducati’s level. But we saw that they’re not untouchable" Pedro Acosta
We all know what happened in the Grand Prix. Another visit to the gravel trap whilst jockeying with Bagnaia for the win. Acosta must wait for Phillip Island to have another crack. But before taking a bow and letting the curtain drop on his Motegi show, he delivered the kind of teaser that makes people rise in the small hours to catch the next performance.
“I’m not going to accept that Ducati is better than KTM,” he told the media. “We know we’re not at Ducati’s level. But we saw that they’re not untouchable.”
There’s a fairly blatant contradiction in there, of course. It can only be interpreted as a conscious willingness to ignore the facts of the matter. It’s a powerful and youthful stubborness that forces those wanting to join the ride vicariously and finger-waggers itching to say ‘told you so’ alike to check out what happens next. Acosta speaking this way can only draw a bigger audience for the Australian Grand Prix in two weeks.
“There are times in life when you have to gamble,” he went on. “And even more so when Pecco [Bagnaia] is in front. He’s not going to risk it, but I am.”
Acosta was merely alluding to the fact that Bagnaia wouldn’t want to risk throwing away a large points haul because he is in a duel for a world championship that has long since lost any meaning for sixth-placed Acosta.
And here’s the question: is it a bad thing that Acosta isn’t part of the championship narrative?
The motorcycle world championship might be 75 years old this year – older than Formula 1’s, even. It might be rich in heritage and history. But sometimes we need reminding that motorsport doesn’t necessarily need a points table to deliver compelling context. A brash underdog ignoring the facts and staring down the bullies in his bid to win a prestigious Grand Prix – for the trophy, not the points – can easily be enough.
Tying races together in a championship, regardless of the category, almost inevitably robs events of their individuality and the strips out some of the prestige of actually winning them. They tend to become just another brick in the points wall, if you like.
Maybe, on reflection, it’s a good thing that the Isle of Man TT dropped out of the world championship after 1976. After all, it has continued to draw in the punters and build its legend ever since. And wherever you look in the thoroughly non-championship Douglas paddock each year, the TT is never short of a compelling story.
While the idea of a bunch of non-championship races will remain a thought experiment in modern MotoGP, it’s worth noting how far ahead of the game it was compared to some other sports. There are those that are only just beginning to toy with the idea of leagues and tables amid persistent demands for ‘context’.
Test cricket, for example, got by playing games for their own sake for well over a century before finally launching a world championship league in 2019. It has made little difference to the levels of interest or coverage. Traditional rugby tours, in which the sole objective is trying to win that series, exist to this day but are slowly falling prey to round robins and the like. This despite regularly packed stadiums and better entertainment than ever.
These sports might be careful what they wish for. Consider golf, a sport that has effectively lost all structured context due to a nasty political battle that has raged since 2022. A disaster, supposedly. Yet its four major championships have risen above all the apathy. Each of these stands apart from any tour or league and offers a trophy any golfer would kill for. How important is manufactured ‘context’, really?
Motorsport set its ‘points race’ course three-quarters of a century ago, and it’s here to stay. But the drawcard that is Acosta reminds us that it doesn’t always need help generating an ongoing narrative for the people who choose to follow it.
Every sport, MotoGP included, has its actors. Every event is a stage. But it’s better than theatre, because nobody gets a script and the show never ends. Sometimes it’s enough to take a step back and let the players loose.
Moving away from the fantasy world to the real one, let’s be honest about what might help make the championship battle as compelling a storyline as the Pedro Acosta one: cut the number of races. Okay, we’re probably still in that fantasy world, come to think of it. But seriously...
The Martin versus Bagnaia fight looks like an almighty ding-dong on paper. Punch, counter-punch and all of that. But there’s a reason – apart from knockouts, of course – that boxing bouts aren’t scheduled for 40 rounds. It would get dull. People would start to wander off.
Cut the number of rounds, on the other hand, and you automatically increase the significance of those that remain
There are only so many twists and turns that are going to surprise, wow and delight the watching public. At some point – maybe 32 rounds in, say – some of them might start rolling their eyes and turn their attention to distractions like Acosta. Or they’ll just wait to watch what feels like an inevitable Valencia showdown.
Cut the number of rounds, on the other hand, and you automatically increase the significance of those that remain. You prune the quantity but add quality and status to each event. Perhaps 16 weekends and limiting the sprints to special ones would do the job?
It’s a point that’s been made often enough. As has the fact that a reduction would be more sustainable for the health of crews facing burnout as well as whatever credibility the sport may have in terms of its environmental impact.
Like Formula 1, however, MotoGP has been affected by an expansion obsession in recent years. It hasn’t been as easy as you might think. Think of the races that were supposed to happen and didn’t in recent years: Finland, India, Kazakhstan. None of these setbacks has been taken as a sign that something ought to give. Or that perhaps we should be going in the other direction.
Speaking of which, wouldn’t Phillip Island be the perfect amphitheatre for a true world championship to stage its season finale? Perhaps with Acosta sticking his nose between the protagonists on this ultimate riders’ circuit?
It has hosted the season-closer before. And who knows, perhaps it might be a thought for Liberty Media to ponder for the future. But as for this year’s Australian Grand Prix, MotoGP should be thankful Pedro Acosta has returned to form when he has. Because for those Europeans that get out of bed at the crack of dawn next Sunday morning, his story is the most likely reason they’ll do so.
