Well what a f#@king joke thyat was. It proved a lot of things I've suspected about the category.
Firstly, the majority of the f#@kwits they emply couldn't drive a f#@king greased stick up a horse's arse. Secondly, that James Courtney is a f#@king hypocrite. Thirdly, that Murf's still a cranky c@#t who should spend more time coaxing speed out of his car than trying to biff the blokes in Fords as they blast past. Fourthly, that Craig Lowndes has only half a brain. Fifthly, that hlaf a brain is better than whatever shit is in Courtney's head. Sixthly, that Tander's a flog. Seventhly, that HRT couldn't engineer a reliable reverse kanga. Eighthly, that Whincup's a f#@king good pedaller. Ninethly, that so is Frosty. Tenthly, that Junior deserves a medal for being a good bloke, a good steerer, and for not throttling f#@king dickheads who ruin a good race meeting.
And lastly, that you CAN get cars two-wide around Turn 8 if the blokes steering them use a bit of tact and nouse, rather than just blasting away and then crying to Beretts when the house of cards comes crashing down.