When I span a Formula E car off a Swedish racetrack last summer and messily biffed the front wing into the gravel, the people from Formula E weren’t overly bothered.
When I later wrote about the experience in this magazine and remarked the car was an impressive piece of engineering for a sport no one gave a flying wotsit over, they were quite cross. And promptly emailed me lots of METRICS and FEEDBACK that demonstrated I was, in fact, WRONG. Formula E is a worldwide household name. A phenomenon. Bigger than Jesus, with more evangelical followers. Apparently. Walk down any high street in the land and you can’t move for kids in full Formula E team kit and queues outside bookies taking punts on the next ePrix.
And whoodathunkit, turns out Extreme E – the off-roading identity crisis world championship.
