The Dropped Donkey Award
All great Spanish fiestas include lobbing an unsuspecting donkey off a watchtower to the cheers of the none-vegan locals. But fear not – the cruel and barbaric tradition isn’t a waste! Once the splattered equine innards have been sufficiently picked over by the regional crows the remains are scraped up and hurled into the next ‘tourist party paella’ and palmed off as chicken. It’s a time-honoured ritual that has been giving unwary tourists listeria since the mid-80s.
This award goes to the celebrated Spanish rider who fell flat on his face.
Winner: Marc Marquez
The prize donkey in the pack was, randomly, local favourite Marc Marquez. And just like in Austin none of us saw it coming.
Having won the sprint race, which racked up Marc’s fifth successive win and the 20th successive tiresome Saturday race, the Spanish Antichrist looked a surefire winner for the main event in front of his adoring pork-chomping fans.
But he fell off instead.
Marquez was able to jump back on his Ducati, which now resembled one that one of the Lowes brothers had borrowed, and start his charge from ‘nowhere’ to ‘almost somewhere’. Thankfully for Marc the organisers, fearing a mass crowd revolt, decided not to show him the meatball flag – which was the country’s first ever time that a meatball has been taken off the table.
The Jerez Sherry Award
Sherry, the drink that screams, “I’m sophisticated, but also stuck in a 1970s dinner party” demands we admire its complex notes of incontinence-regret and raisins. One sip and you’re instantly transported to a wood-panelled room where someone’s arguing about decimalisation or Nixon’s visit to China.
This award goes to something that used to be classy but now isn’t.
Winner: Moto3 & Moto2
When MotoGP inevitably lets us down we’ve always had the warm reassuring hug that at least the Moto3 & Moto2 races were awesome. Typically the Moto2 race would be a tense battle to the very last corner with the Moto3 event being 35 minutes of teenage testosterone anger.
But not this weekend. The huge crowd were happy with the result as both winners were oily-skinned, spotty Spaniards but anyone hoping to witness some decent racing ended up more disappointed than finding your pillow still warm when flipped over.
The Chorizo Award
The Spanish chorizo is the greasy spicy little tube of questionable life choices and the rock star of sausages. Rammed full of paprika and enough mystery meat to make a taco weep and a cardiologist book a vacation it proudly leaves a trail of orange oil and shame in its wake.
This award goes to the rider who shone like the glorious, artery-clogging sausage diva despite being on an old banger.
Winner: Fabio Quartarararararo
Everyone loves Quartarararararo…well except the bitter subset who blame him for taking Rossi’s factory Yamaha ride. But actual MotoGP fans love him.
Sadly it’s not been easy recently for Fabio stuck on the Yamaha nail. After winning the title in 2021 the Japanese manufacturer adopted the Mexican philosophy of not doing much and hoping no one would notice. The outcome was that poor Fabio was left far, far behind.
Luckily Dorna’s new concession rules, designed to aid terrible oriental manufacturers, have given Yamaha far more freedom to still not do anything. And this, added to the belief that a V4 might actually be coming, was all the likable yet French rider needed to storm to front of the grid and register the first ‘none-Marquez’ pole of the year.
Fab Fabio couldn’t quite pull off a win in the main race but a frankly insane second place was, mathematically, equal to winning the Kentucky Derby on a haddock.
The Flamenco Award
The flamenco is the passionate art form that combines music, dance, and more dramatic and gestures than a trained fly-swatter and is butchered nightly to drunken Brits up and-down the Costa del Sol who want some local culture to go with their sausage and chips.
Jerez passionately claims to the birthplace of Flamenco despite the fact that historians, musicologists, and basically every other Andalusian town have their own suspiciously confident versions of the origin story.
This award goes to the rider who danced majestically in Jerez to the sweet sound of a load of Spaniards making a racket.
Winner: Alex Marquez
Poor Alex has lived under his brother’s shadow now for so long that he’s a chronic osteomalacia sufferer. But in Jerez it was time for the ‘Ralf Schumacher’ of MotoGP to step out into the glorious sunlight for a healthy batch of praise and photodermatitis.
And everyone was happy. Okay, let me rephrase that – and all MotoGP fans were happy. Alex is less of an Antichrist than his brother – a ‘Jesus tickler’ at worst and is a loveable character akin to the dopey puppy that just wants to please but ends up with his head trapped in the cupboard.
All season Marquez Lite has been brilliant but forced to play second-fiddle to his famous brother but this weekend it was Alex that got to ride home in the front seat of the family SEAT. Better still for Ralf Schumarquez he now leads the world championship!
The Paella Award
Paella is basically a confused stir-fry that decided it needed a giant pan and a sunburned tourist to feel important. Cunning locals take the cheapest food known to mankind, rice, then toss in a few peas, a prawn or two that still looks angry to be there, and maybe some chicken that’s somehow both dry and undercooked — then charge foreigners the GDP of a small country for the privilege.
Spaniards love paella. Not eating it. Just banging on about it.
This award goes to the rider that, after all said-and-done, was a bit bland and overpriced.
Winner: Pecco Bagnaia
Yet another ‘meh’ event for the bearded Italian. Managed to beat Marc because he fell off but was outshone all weekend by Alex Marquez and Fabio Quartararararo.
