There’s an element of truth to the notion that travelling all the way to a racetrack only to watch the contest on a screen in the media centre is a tad crazy. There are good reasons for that, of course…but when a chance to immerse in the sporting emotion of it all comes along, it must be seized.
That’s why Autosport did not think twice when the factory Ducati Lenovo Team invited us to watch the recent Misano sprint race from inside its pit garage.
It’s a strange but enlightening change of perspective to set up shop at the true heart of it all. At the nucleus of Marc Marquez’s romp to the world title – mathematically still open that day in Italy, but only a matter of time – and Francesco Bagnaia’s ongoing despair.
It is on Bagnaia’s side of the surprisingly compact garage set that we take up position for the race. We’re tucked into a clever little hole in the side ‘wall’. To the right is the pitlane; to the left is the personally-branded red chair into which Bagnaia has flopped so miserably, so often, this year.
Around that seat – and Marc’s, hidden across the garage behind the jutting central partitions that form the back entrance – is the only place where anything resembling work will be done during the race. Almost all of the engineering – more of that another time – happens in the truck out back and at the factory in Bologna. Here in the garage, things are positively spartan. A trio of red-clad techies will monitor a couple of computers from Lenovo, the team’s title sponsor. Consider it the front office.
So, even at MotoGP’s champion constructor – that particular trophy was sewn up a week earlier in Barcelona – it all feels thoroughly minimalist compared to a Formula 1 or a World Endurance Championship garage. But that stands to reason, of course. In all but the most unusual circumstances, Marquez and Bagnaia will be on their own once the flag drops. There is nothing the men with the laptops, nor the handful of mechanics, can do during the race except watch on, rapt with investment.
Ducati team garage
Photo by: Richard Asher
The race bikes themselves are already out on the grid by the time we arrive. Bagnaia is also out there, as ready as he can be for his next race assignment. Marc, however, is not. Because the six-time series champion suddenly appears from stage left. Having evidently just made a quick return to the box on foot, he marches out from his side of the garage, semi-suited, on his way back to his trusty GP25.
Nobody bothers Marquez as he walks off towards today’s battleground. But who is around to do so? It’s a strange vibe at such a critical juncture, with all the bigwigs and A-listers somewhere beyond the towering pitwall across the lane.
With the men who tend the bikes having joined them out on the grid too, the garage feels particularly underfurnished right now. It’s probably as empty as it has been all weekend. Even the two spares are outside on the apron, waiting patiently like any good understudy.
Bagnaia’s wife Domizia does not join the see-and-be-seen crowd on the grid. She’s one of the few people still in the garage at this quiet time. She’s clad in a long, black dress, and if you disregard the short sleeves it’s hard not to imagine it’s some kind of lament for good times as her husband’s battles continue.
Empty though the floor may be, tension and expectancy fill those painstakingly hoovered patches of grey carpet on which the shiny red Desmosedici machines would normally stand. Perhaps even more than usual, because Marc – confident stride notwithstanding – is having one of his rare off weekends. Which is to say, he missed out on qualifying on the front row. This sprint may be another Marc cruise all the same, but that doesn’t feel guaranteed today.
The first sign that the garage is once more to become the hub of team life comes when the couple of mechanics still here fire up those spare bikes shortly before the warm-up lap. When you cannot see the grid across that soaring pitwall, this is a handy clue that it must be clearing. Time to hush.
Ducati team garage
Photo by: Richard Asher
The revving of the spares is almost certainly nothing more than a formality today, with the sun shining bright over the Adriatic coastline. But you never know. It was but three weeks ago in Hungary that VR46 Ducati rider Fabio di Giannantonio had to bring a sick GP25 into the pits at the end of the warm-up lap and hop on just such a backup steed.
The field sets off on its final systems check at last. Right on cue, the masses who had been strutting their stuff on the startline flooded into the garage. Among them are a couple of familiar umbrella-holders, their practiced gait a stark contrast to that of technical folk with other things on their minds than counting down to the moment they can wipe off the fake smile. Gigi Dall’Igna, for example, who proceeds to commandeer what was once the throne of MotoGP’s king. Well, Bagnaia isn’t going to need that gamer chair of his for the next little while.
There’s a simple irony in Ducati’s tech boss sitting in the seat emblazoned with the number 63, in which Bagnaia has spent so much of 2025 trying to communicate ‘a missing feeling’ in language engineers like Gigi can act upon. If you were so inclined, you could read it as a sign that the factory team doesn’t take itself too seriously.
Among those returning from the grid is Carola Bagnaia. She brings back her brother’s cap and puts it on the shelf next to Gigi. It’s almost certainly a ritual, one that requires no comment from either of them, nor even eye contact. Motorsport’s most recognisable sister disappears around the partition to see how Pecco will get on from eighth in the starting line-up.
As the warm-up lap winds down, the garage settles. Like Bagnaia’s cap, everyone has their assigned spot. Half the mechanics are on Pecco’s side of the garage and half, as is the way of these things, on Marc’s. But the blokes in red are outnumbered by those who wouldn’t know a brake lever from an engine map button. This is Misano, after all: the home team has a lot of guests to entertain.
And, as you’d expect in Italy, the big boss is there. Ducati CEO Claudio Domenicali takes up a patch on Marc’s side of the garage. Draw your own conclusions.
Ducati team garage
Photo by: Richard Asher
The only people sitting down are those at the very back. On our side, that’s Dall’Igna and the three men in front of the computers. But the television monitors above the garage doors are clearly mounted high enough that they still get a perfect view of the action.
Gigi looks fascinated by the label on his water bottle. What a mundane thing for a great engineering mind to be contemplating as his bikes draw up to the grid! Is he really taking in the details of its mineral content? More likely, you suspect, he’s channeling nervous energy.
He presses the bottle to his temple as he waits. It has turned into an unexpectedly hot weekend at Misano.
With the two red GP25s having passed the pitlane entrance, the spares are switched off. It feels ominous. There’s no turning back for Marc or Francesco now. The understudies will not be required today.
All eyes are trained on the screens at the start, but the soundtrack comes live from outside as the MotoGP pack rockets throatily off towards Variante del Parco. Marquez does what he always does after qualifying out of position – he immediately sets about making things right. By the time he’s through the first complex, only Marco Bezzecchi’s Aprilia is in front of him. Bagnaia is going the other way, battling to hang on inside the top 10.
On the face of it, the atmosphere must have changed since pre-race. This is drama and we’re watching it from the home of a key player. But those in the pit – especially the team members you thought were so highly invested – seem to watch it with a studious detachment. Has all the emotion really seeped out of these Italians? On home ground no less? Or are motorsport professionals at this level too cool to show any?
Start action
Photo by: Gold and Goose Photography / LAT Images / via Getty Images
But maybe it’s that very investment that keeps a lid on things. A cocktail of tension and longing for good outcomes that brings on a kind of paralysis. A little like a cricketer not wanting to move from their seat in the changeroom for fear of inducing a wicket to fall.
Lap six, Turn 6: Marquez breaks the suspense. He surprises Bezzecchi with an ambush move and vaults ahead.
Marc’s overtake is not met with rampant applause, however. The only attempt at clapping comes from a couple of the guests, who quickly drop the idea as they get the impression that it may not be the done thing to tempt fate. The appropriate response, on today’s evidence, is a group murmur. It’s an impressed one, but the tone leaves room for interpretation.
It’s not dissimilar to the Lords crowd when an England edge is beaten on an overcast morning. An impressive piece of sport that deserves a respectful response, but doesn’t want to contemplate what it might herald. In hindsight, it’s tempting to think they knew something.
The motorsport equivalent of that unwanted fall of wicket comes later the same lap. We witnessed something the garage has not seen on a raceday since May – Marc Marquez down in the gravel.
When Marc falls, a few hands go to heads. A jaw or two drops. But many, Domenicali among them, simply stare at the screen. Cursing and histrionics are nowhere to be seen. Is it simply the shock? Is it because of VIPs in the garage?
Marc Marquez, Ducati Team crash
Photo by: Danilo Di Giovanni / Getty Images
How, come to that, do the mechanics keep their cool when they have hangers-on like us filling the garage to the point that their work feels like an afterthought?
Bagnaia is still out there, though he has tumbled to 12th by the time Marquez falls. Dall’Igna and the engineers are unmoved as the next couple of minutes unfold. They might as well be watching the weather forecast. Dall’Igna still toys with the water.
There’s only a brief murmuring to be overheard from one of the tech men as he digests the fall. “La sei e la quindici,” he says by way of analysis. Six and 15. Marc passed Bezzecchi at Turn 6, then fell at Turn 15. Two similar left-handers, equivocating. It sounds like this is not the first time they have been mentioned in the same breath this weekend. There must be a backstory here, but only those present in debriefs will know its full extent.
Marc returns to the box on lap eight. How do they always get back so fast? Yes, there are scooters – but do these riders have access to some parallel universe of service roads? Do they say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’? Whatever, he’s still in a hurry as he tramps through the back door, helmet pulled down over thunderous eyes. He navigates the warren of makeshift passages and proceeds directly to his own personalised chair on the far side.
Gigi cannot see the Marquez arrival from where he is sitting, but the television tells him that his star rider has made it back to the fold. Truth be told, the atmosphere an angry Marc Marquez brings with him to the garage would be enough for Dall’Igna to know he had returned.
For the only time all race, Dall’Igna leaves his chair. He must visit Marc and hear his version of events. It’s hard to imagine that this is about getting crucial technical information while things are fresh in the champion-elect’s mind. There will be reams of data downloaded from the bike; hours of analysis too. It has to be more about solidarity and condolences. Another ritual of sorts.
Francesco Bagnaia, Ducati Team
Photo by: Danilo Di Giovanni / Getty Images
After the customary few moments with Marquez, Dall’Igna is back in the #63 seat. For once, it’s Pecco flying the flag for the factory team. He won’t score a point for 13th – but hey, at least he finishes. That’s more than Marquez can say, for a change.
Gigi stands up at the exact moment Bezzecchi crosses the line. He had better be out of that seat by the time Pecco gets back to the pits, no? Besides, there’s work to do. There’s a grand prix tomorrow and this sprint did not go according to plan for either side of the garage.
The next preparation cycle will begin as soon as the bikes are back. A cable will be plugged into the machine and all that juicy data will wing its way to the Ducati Lenovo Remote Garage in Borgo Panigale in a matter of moments. Midnight oil will be burned as brain power and computing power combine to turn the weekend around.
We’re ushered out before we can see Marc’s bike return, or Bagnaia reclaim his seat. But history will show that the garage will be a much happier place a day later, when Marquez defeats Bezzecchi fair and square to win the 2025 San Marino Grand Prix.
Bagnaia will be the one to fall on Sunday. And he will choose to sit beneath a tree in the aftermath, helmet on, flanked by marshals. For a time, at least, that will be preferable to returning to his big red chair in the garage.
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