Thank The Racing Gods Valentino Rossi Isn’t Vladimir Nabokov

If Valentino Rossi was like Vladimir Nabokov, he'd be aborting brilliant laps and hanging up his leathers, forever leaving fans wanting more. Thank goodness Rossi isn't a cantankerous Russian novelist (more on that later).

Before the opening round of the 2018 MotoGP season at the Losail International Circuit in Qatar, Rossi announced a new contract extension that will see him aboard the Movistar Yamaha YZR-M1 through 2020.

The 39-year-old has made it clear that he’ll keep racing as long as he remains competitive and enjoys it.

Rossi’s last championship title was in 2009, and though he finished second in 2014–2016, many race fans and MotoGP pundits believe a 10th world championship will elude him. Some fans feel the longer he goes without winning a title, the more it erodes his legacy as the greatest racer of all time.

For Rossi, however, going out on top is not some grand gesture of heroism or attempt at self-aggrandizement: “I saw a lot of great riders and also drivers stop at the maximum of their career like [Michael] Schumacher, [Max] Biaggi, or [Troy] Bayliss but I think not everyone was happy about that.”

It’s clear that Rossi doesn’t want to leave anything on the table.

“Schumacher and Bayliss came back to the track, so I have decided I will race to the end,” Rossi says. “I don’t want to think in the future maybe I can do another season or two.”

For certain fans, the thought of a mid-40s Rossi languishing mid-pack is despicable. I think it’s the greatest gift he could give his fans.

Nothing can diminish Rossi’s legacy, but racing for the love of it and giving us, not a final encore but chapter after chapter of yellow glory, is like an author sharing his late-career work with a hungry audience—even though it may not equal his greatest achievements.

I'm a big fan of Nabokov, author of Lolita, Pale Fire, Speak, Memory, and many other brilliant works. Nabokov is one of the greatest writers of the 20th century, and I celebrate nearly his entire catalog. I hope saying that doesn't make me pedantic. I also like football, cheap beer, and AC/DC, so there.

When an audience loves an artist, they steal his soul. He ceases to own his work as their greedy devotion appropriates his words, disassociating the creator from his creation by making his efforts their own property. Love is theft.

Nabokov famously threw the manuscript of Lolita into the fire, only for it to be saved by his wife Vèra before it was lost to the consuming flames. Although readers wouldn't have known what they were missing, the idea that Nabokov nearly denied the world one of its greatest novels is taken as a personal affront. He had every right to destroy his own words, but thank goodness Vèra stepped in.

Years later, readers are forever grateful that The Original of Laura, Nabokov's final unfinished work was not thrown into the flames, as was his wish, but published for all to enjoy. It may not be his best novel (it is unfinished after all), but it's still Nabokov.

Unlike Nabokov, who would deny the world his genius unless it stood up to his own conceptions of grandeur, Rossi keeps on racing. Even if he doesn't win another world championship, his genius is undiminished—he'll make 18 passes in a single race, give us that old devious grin as he defends a brazen last-lap maneuver, and put it on pole from out of nowhere. The man is an artist.

I don’t know about you, but I’ll take every lap out of him I can get.