WRC: A comfort to the economic Greek tragedy

The streets of Loutraki burned last Sunday night. And threading my hire car through a bunch of angry protestors wasn't going well. I opened my window and offered a tentative "kali spera". A thick-set fellow of six-and-a-bit feet slapped his hand on the roof, leaned into the car and glowered at me.

And then smiled.

"Rally?" he enquired.

I got the feeling rally was a good thing, so I nodded enthusiastically.

"Sorry for this," he said throwing his arm in the direction of the pile of burning rubble. "We tried not to hurt you. We have done everything else, but nothing works. So we strike."

Some of the workers in the Club Loutraki hotel and casino, which was rally headquarters, had found themselves faced with no option other than to walk out in protest at working conditions and their wages.

This scene snapped me out of my world, the one where suspension clicks and the respective properties of hard and soft-compound tyres ruled, and back into the real world.

In this instance, tyre choice was also important: the bigger ones burned for longer. I had been vaguely aware of the strike before this moment, but only because there was nobody in the kitchen to make me a club sandwich.

But faced with this, it was impossible not to realise the dire straits Greece is in right now.

Credit cards remain a no-no in this cash-is-king economy and restaurant prices often varied according to the perceived size of your wallet. It was, on occasion, embarrassing to parade the wealth of the WRC before parts of a population struggling to find the Euros to live. The counter argument came from my new friend, who was now waving people out of the way for me to get through.

With another bang on the roof, he said: "Now, go. And thank you for coming."

Spectacular rally cars brought the Greek crowds out for some brief respite © LAT

Thank you for coming?

Looking back, taking the WRC to Europe's most fiscally troubled towns was exactly the right thing to do. Tens of thousands turned out on the streets of Athens to cheer the cars away from the start outside the Parthenon and then they just kept on coming in the stages and service parks.

For a weekend, the nation's petrolheads could forget the prospect of financial oblivion, which has become their daily grind, and watch Sebastien Loeb being Sebastien Loeb.

Beyond that, we should take a moment to consider the Euros spent by the WRC community last week - it's measured in seven figures and those seven figures will offer further brief respite among the restaurateurs and hoteliers of the Hellenic homeland.

Ahead of the event, we had heard about a supposed moral dilemma for the sport's governing body about whether or not the series should continue to bring its pampered, multi-million pounds drivers and budgets here.

It should. It has a moral obligation to come.

So that raises the next question? What is it that somebody doesn't like about the Acropolis Rally?

World Rally Championship commission president Jarmo Mahonen went on the record saying he hadn't been able to give any guarantees to the Greek organisers over next season. This, we're told, is the same for all the organisers. Mahonen will be around to visit them all in the very near future with a new contract for a new world.

But is it really? Having already shown socialist sympathies this week, I risk going further to the left by asking if some events are more equal than others?

Talking with WRC manager Michele Mouton in Greece last week, the subject of France and its two rounds arose. The opening round of this year's championship started in the heart of France, completed every competitive mile within its national boundaries and then popped into the Principality next door for a service and spray of champagne. And yet, in a few months, we'll be a dash up the road from Valence in Strasbourg for the start of France's second round of the season. Oh, and let's not forget, when we get to Alsace, we will only just have finished with another WRC round 50 or so miles away in Trier.

Rallying's current god, Sebastien Loeb, won The Rally of Gods © LAT

But Greece may have to go in an effort to trim the calendar from 13 to 12 and in the hope of getting Brazil or South Africa a fast-track ticket to planet WRC.

Mahonen and Mouton had seen sense on this subject last year and suggested to a France-Germany alliance. It hadn't gone down well and the matter had been dropped.

Well, it's time to raise it again. If the WRC is going to get tough with classics such as the Acropolis and Rally GB, then it has to open its eyes and see that running a quarter of the calendar either inside or within an hour's drive of the French border is laughably unacceptable.

Last week's Acropolis Rally was a very, very good rally. It was well run, well financed - by private, not state, money - and it would be an absolute travesty if it missed out or was even placed on the reserve list for next season.

Standing at the start of Bauxites last Friday, looking up that classic dark red road with the sun burning the back of my neck, having lunched on souvlaki at the side of the Gulf of Corinth, I couldn't have been anywhere else. And this stage and this scene is an integral part of the WRC - and has been for close on 40 years.

And, just before I go, I feel it's worth mentioning the man who has been our world for the past eight years.

Loeb.

What can you say?

Among his 71 world rally wins, there have been some fairly straightforward victories. Last week was not one of them. In the face of stiff competition from both Ford drivers Jari-Matti Latvala and Petter Solberg, Loeb didn't blink.

His masterful understanding of where and when he should push his Citroen DS3 WRC to the limit was incredible. His legendary sixth-sense of knowing where to find grip was again on display, but it was matched this time by an astonishing grasp of just how far the metal around him would bend before it broke.

His puncture on the second run through Aghii Theordori last Sunday also marked him out as the ultimate thinker as well. He wasn't far in when the Michelin went soft, but Loeb stopped immediately.

"I remembered," he said, "when I got the puncture in 2006. I drove on that year and everything was destroyed. I didn't want to do that this time."

What presence of mind, what incredible capacity of forethought at a time when his thoughts were focused on driving his car as fast as possible. That's Loeb.

Nothing gets past him. Certainly not a Ford in Greece last week.