This one… this one is special.
It’s snuck into the conversation due to some incredible promotion and the rise of a home hero, but the French Grand Prix has become THE blue ribbon event of the calendar. This year, it broke its own record, with 311,000 fans across the weekend gracing the land of arguably the most famous race track of them all. And beyond that, the newfound genuine hope of the nation after Fabio Quartararo’s heroic second place in Jerez, keeping one of the sport’s greatest at bay.
We had 96,000 in the house when Fabio gave that home crowd another shot of adrenaline. From out of seemingly nowhere, the fastest ever lap of the Bugatti circuit, a 1:29.3, and 1.3 seconds faster than the previous year. No doubt about it, the Yamaha and its new engine package has shown they’ve made genuine progress. The last time Fabio went back-to-back for pole posiiton, was his title-winning season in 2021. And in a sport where Ducati have dominated for the last half decade, another Marquez-esque hero on the package we all know is inferior.
The Sprint felt like Deja Vu from the Spanish GP. Fabio put in a valiant effort, an immediate counter on Marc Marquez’s audacious start, and pulling out a second lead. But as the Sprint wore on, Marc came back, finding the confidence to maximise his pace, and pass for the lead at Garage Vert, which is about as difficult as it gets in this sport. Another reminder that while the Yamaha was quick, it’s not Ducati yet, as Fabio eventually fell to fourth behind Alex Marquez and a bullish Fermin Aldeguer. Given this was France, I’m shocked his RV wasn’t on fire later that night.
Sunday, and a wave of rain hits the track. It dries out for David Munoz’s latest attempt at turning his Moto3 bike into a battering ram, and Manuel Gonzalez’s controlled, flawless Moto2 win. But with half an hour to go before the main event, it rains again. It’s Austin 2, with the track delicately poised between wet and dry. Now with an added twist – The Marc Marquez rule making its debut. After Marc committed the cardinal sin of killing a TV intro, if you leave the grid for any reason between the three-minute sign and the start, you now take a Double Long Lap penalty once the race starts.
The grid leaves on slick tyres, thinking the rain isn’t heavy enough to chill the tyres… then Fabio Quartararo locks his front and nearly endos himself into oblivion at the first chicane. It’s too wet, the field pours into the pits for a bike swap, and the start is aborted. Five minutes later, we try again, with the riders on wet bikes… only for half the field to enter the pits and swap for dry bikes on the warm-up lap. The timing tower looks like someone’s shaking a Pineapple tree with all the yellow “!” logos.
Pecco Bagnaia’s combined racing for the weekend amounted to about three laps. Tucking the front in the Sprint early on to continue his Saturday woes, and then collected at Turn 1 by Enea Bastianini wrecking three bikes and forcing Johann Zarco into the gravel to avoid a horrific clash. A disastrous weekend by the man who’s openly admitted he has to adapt to the bike he helped create.
Chaos up the front, with half the field trying to count how many Long Laps they’d taken as Quartararo, the Marquez brothers and surprise top-tier runner for the weekend Fermin Aldeguer all swapping positions. All while the rain’s getting heavier and OH MY GOD, FABIO IS DOWN. 120,000 French voices groan in horror. Their talisman, painted like the French flag, is on the canvas. It’s not even a Marquez-in-Austin kerb job. The rear just slides out and down he goes, with Brad Binder quickly following behind.
It’s too wet for slicks, we’re bike swapping again. Given it takes 40 seconds to do so, the wet runners who started on the grid that way are suddenly in the money, and wait… is that Johann Zarco, the field’s other French rider now the net leader? It is! It turns out the safest call was the bravest after all.
Johann Zarco had put together a nine-second lead ahead of Miguel Oliveira and Marc Marquez, fresh off the swap. Miguel was just trying to survive and stepped aside for those who closed in on him, the wet weather specialist still healing from a horrid shoulder injury. As for Marc, he knew immediately that it was his brother Alex behind, he was playing with house money. He didn’t gamble, he let Johann, who started on his wet tyres which were warmer, with a rider strapped with confidence, take the lead.
Brother Alex didn’t see it that way, a highside late on at the Dunlop chicane dropping him to sixth, before a braking error at Esse Bleu ended his race for good. For a man who’s been the most consistently brilliant in the field in 2025, his first real mistake. This is the big leagues now, Alex.
As the nerves of the immediate thrill went away, they were replaced with nerves of hope. Counting down the laps to see if Johann Zarco made it over the line. His gap blew up, from 10 seconds to 12, to 20 by race’s end. But when he got there, the joy, the emotional, the visceral noise was… unlike anything I’ve seen or heard in the 20 years I’ve been watching.
120,000 people lost their collective shit. His parents, who can’t make it to many races, were in floods of tears. Ironically, Johann’s Dad was born in 1954, the same year Pierre Monneret became France’s last home winner. If you’re looking for a French winner at Le Mans, the last one was Georges Jolly back in 1920.
The noise, the chants of Zarco’s name, Jack Appleyard breaking protocol so Zarco could speak to the crowd in French, the backflip on the track afterwards… It was perfect. It was national pride at its greatest. It’s what Motorsport, no sport is all about. I was screencapping for the MS MotoGP Twitter account while fighting off a tear in my eye.
Sometimes, destiny chooses you. In the immediate aftermath, I remember replaying the opening lap pileup. Pecco Bagnaia was taken out by Enea Bastianini. Joan Mir was taken out too, and broke a bone in his hand. Pecco crashed right in front of Zarco, who rode the gravel trap to escape harm. If Pecco survives, he’s right in the hunt for the win. But here we are.
It was Zarco’s 150th MotoGP start. A career that started out with a crash from the lead when he debuted with Tech3. At one point, a reputation as a diva when he quit on KTM less than a year into a move. And yet since joining Honda, at the lowest as an organisation it’s been in half a century, he’s put in the work and grafted. They’re a competitive package again and he’s been the figurehead that’s guided them there. Under the radar, he was excellent last season when Honda was struggling, and now he’s reaped a deserved reward for his dedication. Zarco’s 34. He hasn’t got much time left in his top-flight career. I don’t think he’ll ever have a day like that, ever again.
It’s been a difficult, frustrating time in bike racing. Just last week, we mourned the tragic losses of Shane Richardson and Owen Jenner in British Supersport. A stark reminder of the fear and danger that’s always there with this sport, as well as the nasty side of ourselves as media and press, only giving a shit about a series when someone dies and makes for a big headline.
But I’m glad more than anything else, that this weekend, we got a reminder of some of the joy that reminds us why we love this sport so much. See you at Silverstone.
