MONACO MASSACRE: TYRNADO’S THREATS, TURBOSLAV’S “ACCIDENT,” AND THE BAGUETTE THAT BROKE F1

Monaco promised glitz. It delivered a crime scene.

Fatzinger's lifeless car is left behind in the tunnel, as Turboslav speeds away from the crime scene.

We’ve been chasing whispers about McLaren’s new sword-and-shield pairing ever since Jean-Emmanuel Tyrnado descended upon the paddock with a manifesto disguised as a debutant’s boast. His comments before lights-out weren’t the usual “happy to be here.” They were admission and intention—an obsession with Kermit Fatzinger thinly veiled as sporting rivalry, laced with the kind of vigilante rhetoric that is supposed to stay on Reddit, not on the Riviera.

Alfa Romeo’s Canary Silenced. Twice.

Two turns. That’s all Mumin Rikardo got. In both the sprint and the Grand Prix, the Alfa Romeo was snuffed out almost immediately—twice dead before Beau Rivage—by what the stewards chalked up as “first-lap entropy.” Call us romantics, but we still believe in coincidence. We just don’t believe in the same coincidence twice in 24 hours at the most claustrophobic circuit in motorsport. Was Rikardo erased to stop a witness? Or just to soft-open the theater?

Lap 3: The Quiet Stab

An overeager Tyrnado gets a deserved 5 second penalty.

Under safety car. Cameras yawning, tires dozing, drivers whispering to brake bias. Tyrnado tucking in behind Fatzinger up the hill after Sainte Dévote, then the snap: a lunge that herded the Alfa toward the wall like a sheepdog with a grudge. A glaring 5-second penalty for the McLaren rookie, the stewards’ version of “We saw that.” Monaco’s guardrails breathed again. Fatzinger lived to Lap 14.

Lap 14: The Tunnel Pitch

Fatzinger had just set up Vahishton Turboslav into the tunnel. It was poised. It was clean. Then it wasn’t. The McLaren twitched—not a rookie twitch, a twitch you practice in a sim when you’re practicing not getting caught—and the Alfa got flicked into the left-side barrier with the kind of finality you don’t get to appeal. Carbon everywhere, radio silent. Turboslav’s hands were up before the car even stopped: “Lost the rear,” the universal phrase for “I didn’t see the body.”

But Ferrari saw it. Both of them. Havspiser Gatevold and Erik de Gaaij were tucked in the wake, their onboard cameras serving as confessionals.

The fairest and most trustworthy pair on the grid saw it all.

Gatevold stormed past the media barriers, emptied his helmet of expletives, and gave us the quote that will be written on the foam board at every protest: “This was murder.” Not hyperbole—Havspiser delivered it like a coroner’s report. De Gaaij stood behind him, nodding with that quiet Dutch solemnity that says, “I am mentally lighting a candle.”

The Black Box That Never Spoke

In the aftermath, Alfa Romeo requested the ECU data. Nothing dramatic—just the truth. Gatevold himself asked for the black box from Fatzinger’s car, knowing full well the story would be inside those milliseconds.

Editor’s note: What follows may be disturbing. Yet in pursuit of truth, THE ГОНКИ will show it—because some truths must be seen, no matter how hard they are to face.

Click to reveal

The technician assigned to extract it never made it back to the garage. Found slumped behind a stack of BERNOULLI wets, punctured by a baguette with the tensile strength of malice. We don’t choose the symbols; history does. French bread, French rookie, French bravado. Somewhere in the paddock, a bakery closed early 🥖.

McLaren’s Apology Tour

A nervous smile, or an admission of guilt?

McLaren surfaced with a rapid-fire statement framing Lap 14 as a “racing incident.” The team said Turboslav was “deeply sorry” and emphasized “no intention” to end Fatzinger’s race. A paragraph about learning. A sentence about safety. Not a single mention of Tyrnado’s pre-race threats. Corporate empathy: biodegradable, single-use, disposed of before parc fermé.

Alfa Romeo Sets Fire to the Rulebook

Alfa Romeo, incandescent, issued a demand for a full criminal investigation, and urged the FIA to “stop turning a blind eye to sanctioned intimidation and sabotage.” Sources inside the Alfa HQ say the team has retained outside forensic analysts to reconstruct the Lap 14 vectors from on-board gyros and wheel-speed variance, with an intent to lodge a criminal complaint if the black box cannot be recovered. One Alfa engineer, voice shaking: “If we can’t have the data, we’ll build it.”

The Stewards’ Math Problem

The book got thrown once: Tyrnado’s 5 seconds for the Lap 3 under-SC shove. After Lap 14, though, the ledger went quiet. No drive-through, no stop-go, no meatball. Turboslav limped on, scored points, and climbed out of the car like a man who had successfully misfiled a document. Tyrnado, too, pocketed a finishing position that will live forever in the results but not in the conscience.

It’s one thing to police track limits. It’s another to police intention. But when intention declares itself at the Thursday pressers, then takes the racing line like a blade, the sport has to decide whether it governs competition or theater.

Our Recommendations, Unsolicited but Timely

• Immediate impound of both McLarens’ telemetry for independent review.
• Temporary suspension of Tyrnado and Turboslav pending investigation.
• Release of all relevant steward-room comms from Laps 1–15.
• Appointment of an external prosecutor to investigate the paddock death.
• A moratorium on “racing incident” as a PR phrase until everyone calms down.

Monaco crowned a winner on paper. But the story of this race won’t be Bradford’s dominance—it will be the night a driver promised to take out Kermit Fatzinger, the teammate who made the contact, and the black box that bled out on a garage floor next to a weapon that started life as breakfast.

The Principality will pack up its Armco and its yachts. The tire marks in the tunnel will fade. But there’s a baguette in evidence now, a penalty that arrived too early, and a silence where a black box should be speaking. That’s not a race weekend. That’s a reckoning.

Developing story. Stay with THE ГОНКИ.