Not many in North America will notice, but Richard Burns died Friday. He made his living driving cars very fast and predominantly sideways. He did a good job of it, too; World Champion in 2001. He beat the cliffs in Corsica, the dust in Australia, the ice in Sweden and the river crossings in Argentina, but the damned cancer beat him at 34.
Burns didn't cure sick kids, or mediate peace, or configure voice-over-internet protocol, but I sure got a kick out of is craft, and he seemed like a decent enough chap. I sure hope he's found himself where there are muddy roads, a comfy seat, and a quality set of stage notes.