A tiresome business

Lewis Hamilton's tyre failure in last Sunday's Turkish Grand Prix was, it appears, caused by 'chunking'. Formula One tyres are a complex and fascinating business. With the addition of this hitherto unreported phenomenon, there are at least three ways in which the performance of an F1 tyre can deteriorate:

• Graining. This is a consequence of the grooves cut into the tyres, by regulation, to reduce the size of the contact patches. Cutting grooves into a tyre creates separate blocks of rubber, and the shoulders of each block are unsupported on one side. Under braking and cornering forces, the blocks of rubber experience a type of leverage, and, under shear forces, the shoulders of each block are ripped away, creating grains of rubber. These grains roll across the surface of the contact patches, reducing the grip of the tyre. The process continues until the blocks of rubber have been eroded to the point where the leverage upon the shorter blocks is insufficient to create any more grains.
  
• Blistering. This occurs when the carcass of the tyre (i.e., the interior of the tyre) overheats, causing patches on the surface to overheat. The rubber peels away at the blister points.
• Chunking. This occurs when small bits of rubber deposited on the track surface (called 'marbles', and not the same as the grains which cause graining), are picked up by a passing tyre, chemically adhere to the tyre, and then harden.

Each of these phenomena are quite separate from the deterioration in tyre performance which takes place due to simple tyre wear!

Liverpool v Toulouse

Yesterday, of course, was Anfield. And, in particular, the Kop.

Arriving early, and after a short walk across Stanley Park, I found myself in the Liverpool club shop. Astonishingly, I also found myself quite unable to resist buying and wearing a Liverpool shirt. It felt good, though, and at £39.99, it was obviously a snip.

There was then opportunity for a quick drink in The Albert, just adjacent to the ground, which was packed with fans clad in similar scarlet attire. I saw a couple of girls in Steven Gerrard number 8 shirts, and it struck me, as last year, that there is something incredibly arousing about a girl wearing a Steven Gerrard shirt. Like a girl, but also like Stephen Gerrard, at the same time.

Standing in place in the minutes prior to kick-off, the enormous Liverpool flag appeared (as if by magic), and, pulled by the fans beneath, descended over the top, and down the face of the Kop. There was a rousing tribute to the murdered 11-year old, Rhys Jones, whose mother was in attendance, and then 'You'll Never Walk Alone' was delivered with familiar gusto.

The Kop offered a fabulous view of the game. The seating therein, however, is crazy: I spent the first 15 minutes with my right knee jammed against the seat in front, and my right foot off the ground. The Kop rises to its feet, however, when Liverpool mount an attack, so the game is spent getting up, then sitting down, then getting up, then sitting down, etc. etc.

Most impressive player in the match was Yossi Benayoun, who was full of skillful flicks, tricks and eye-of-the-needle passes. A couple of late goals from Dirk Kuyt made him look good, but, like Crouch, he squandered a number of other excellent opportunities.

Anfield

Today I go to Anfield, where Liverpool, oxymoronically, hope To-win against Toulouse. I shall be in the Spion Kop, where, I'm sure, my fellow Kopites will also be nodding their heads sagaciously at the irony of the encounter.

Last November I went to Anfield to see the first ever league 'clash' between Liverpool and my home town of Reading. A number of impressions have stayed with me from that day: the blazing emerald green of the pitch as I emerged from the stairs into the grandstand; the pies-and-larger-shop tucked away in a concrete recess within the ageing stadium; the tightly enclosed geometry of Anfield; the row of terraced housing behind the stadium; the emotional overload of singing 'You'll Never Walk Again', with the sound reverberating off the stadium roof. That day I saw Stevie G, Carra, and even God came on as a substitute. Today, alas, none of them will be there.