Red Bull Motorsports
In 2005, Valentino Rossi barged up the inside of Sete Gibernau on the final corner of the last lap in Jerez. With a collision between the two imminent as they dove in heavy on the brakes, the Italian frantically took his inside leg off the footpeg. Rossi pulled off the pass and raced forward to the checkered flag — and ultimately, the world title.
Since then, the "Doctor Dangle" has become a standard roadracing maneuver. The leg wave is now a regular tool included in racers' repertoires all over the world, from MotoGP down to your local club race. What originally seemed nothing more than an act of desperation and, for a long while, looked flat-out awkward, has become the norm. In fact, any corner where riders are not waving their inside legs just above the ground while hard on the brakes lacks the visual sensation of demon-braking and promise of a pass waiting to happen.
While the adaptation of the move Rossi popularized has been nigh-total, there is still no definitive answer explaining why riders do it.
Even Rossi can't tell you other than to say it simply "feels" right.
There is talk of it lending additional stability on the brakes by transferring the collective rider/bike center of gravity lower and forward to the inside of the approaching corner. Others have suggested the waving leg works like an airbrake, increasing drag and, in turn, further upping the rate of deceleration.
Others have suggested that its enthusiastic embrace is more the result of a copycat club, the clown prince of Grand Prix racing demonstrating his massive global influence via some sort of meta joke — the racing equivalent to convincing the world the proper way to eat a Snickers is with a knife and fork.
Established riders seeking to beat Rossi weren't about to allow him any advantage and figured it safer to follow his lead or risk doing just that.
Meanwhile, younger riders simply wanted to be Rossi — something akin to No. 23-adorned junior high basketball players sticking out their tongues while executing low-altitude reverse layups in gyms all across America back in the '90s.
Whether physics, voodoo or simple imitation, the dangle's near ubiquity speaks to its (physical and/or psychological) effectiveness.
However, the "near" in that last sentence is important, because there is still one rider on the MotoGP grid who refuses to be swallowed up by the tsunami of leg waves. And that rider also happens to be the reigning world champion, Jorge Lorenzo.
Lorenzo's example makes it abundantly clear the move isn't mandatory to excel at the sport's highest level. The Spaniard is not one to follow the crowd and he's not one to view Rossi as a personal hero either. Instead, Lorenzo's driving motivation is more along the lines of dismantling the Rossi "myth" and exposing his great rival as something less than the popular narrative has made him out to be.
While on the surface, Lorenzo's refusal lends support to the psychological-based explanations, there is also the fact that the champ utilizes a different style than the bulk of the field. He tends to brake earlier and flows over his machine with a subtle grace in search of space-time continuum-warping corner speed. And thus, he doesn't need to push the boundaries in order to increase his braking power or corner-entrance stability.
Regardless, don't expect the leg wave to be the final word in the development of motorcycle roadracing kinematics. The dangle has risen alongside other radical body contortions, such as today's exaggerated, elbow-dragging body hangs. It's all about riders seeking any edge their body can offer them as they attempt to break beyond the seemingly black-and-white, one-and-zero-ascribed limits of today's increasingly digital race bikes.
Consider it an arms (and legs) race destined to continue its rapid evolutionary process.