AT A restaurant the other night, I overheard a patron ask the sushi chef if he was going to watch the first
Formula One Singapore Grand Prix night race.

The chef replied: "I don't appreciate watching cars going round and round. I prefer beach volleyball."

I have never watched beach volleyball, although the thought of toned young women in bikini tops fighting to keep a ball from dropping on their half of the sandbox does sound appealing - in a frivolous sort of way.

But, unlike the sushi chef, I do love the F1.

Around this time last year, I was at the Chinese Grand Prix in Shanghai, and I was lucky enough to have access to the McLaren team's paddock suite- complete with free-flowing wine and food.

I remember remarking that this was the place to be, because then-rookie Lewis Hamilton could seal his world championship bid there. Plus, there's nothing like bragging rights later over drinks.

"I was there when Lewis (first-name basis, of course) was crowned champion in 2007," I could imagine myself saying.

Unfortunately, Hamilton didn't become world champion that day. He embarrassingly crashed mid-race into the entrance to the pits.

But that race was the occasion where a lesser-known rookie, Sebastian Vettel, scored his first championship point by finishing fourth.

That was a great achievement for a man barely 20 years old.

But what TV coverage didn't show was the celebration that the Torro Rosso mechanics threw for their young pilot.

Vettel was their champion.

The boy was in the clouds and the joy was infectious.

I saw it all go down from the balcony and found myself smiling at the sight.

This was all happening while the cameras were trained on the podium winners.

With any luck, the big race this weekend will bear witness to a few momentous achievements, and not all of them will be recorded on TV.

Experiencing what the media miss is perhaps one of the most compelling reasons for watching an F1 race live, if you're lucky enough to get the chance.

The sideshows unfolding, the atmosphere, the glorious shrill sounds of the engines and the smell of high-octane fumes are just some of the things that the TV can't quite capture.

But it's not just the races that thrill. Away from the track and even farther away from the media attention, there are the countless parties that are fun enough to win ultimate Playboy Hugh Hefner's approval.

We are talking about copious amounts of booze, the best music and the best-looking crowd.

I wouldn't miss Singapore's Grand Prix for the world.

And this time, I don't have to endure a long drive up to Sepang, Malaysia, or get on a flight to Shanghai to see and
smell it all.

Instead, the races will be but an MRT ride away. Come Friday, I'll be donning my walking shoes and a good pair of spectacles to pace around the entire F1 compound.

Most exciting of all is the fact that no one knows what history will be made this weekend, or how it will unfold, and I personally don't want to miss a thing.

Beach volleyball? Pfft. You can't tell me that's more exciting than F1.

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