Shunt

by Tom Rubython

  The grid was cleared and the start of the second race was on. The cars were allowed another warm up lap and Hunt found his to be in remarkably good shape. As it came back onto the grid, the mechanics swarmed round. Hunt remembered: “The boys didn’t have time to track it out but we tweaked it a bit after the warm up lap. It wasn’t very good to start off with, but then the car began to settle and then started going really well.”

  Lauda made the best start, ahead of Hunt and Regazzoni. Carrying a full tank of fuel, Hunt’s hastily rebuilt car was not nearly as fast, as he said: “You can’t throw the car with full tanks because it just won’t throw; it just pushes whatever you do because it’s got all that weight of fuel forward.”

  As the fuel load started to drop, Hunt found that he could throw the car around more and go faster. At half distance, Lauda was leading but Hunt closed in on him. Hunt recalled: “I’d been catching Lauda steadily but not enough, and then I was helped by a couple of back markers trailing the field. He got the worst of that, and about five laps after that I started stabbing at him.”

  As Hunt began to seek ways past the Ferrari, the fans began cheering. The noise from the crowd was so loud he could hear it above the sound of his engine.

  On the 45th lap, Hunt finally drove inside Lauda and passed him on the climbing approach to Druids Hill. The crowd was wild with joy and emotions were overflowing. He said: “I knew I’d got him. I knew I was getting on top and our lap times were coming down. It was quite fantastic. We were racing at around 1 minute 19 seconds for a lap of Brands, the sort of time with which Niki and I had qualified with light fuel loads in practice.”

  After he was passed, Lauda didn’t contest it and settled in to finish second, preserving points.

  Hunt was disappointed in Lauda that afternoon for not contesting the lead: “I wanted him to race me, not just hand over.” Hunt felt he had been robbed of the satisfaction of racing for it, as he said: “I will always fight and go as fast as I can to keep the other guy under pressure, and that’s the fundamental difference between us – Niki will leave it and drive for his finish.”

  Hunt was also cross that no one had challenged Lauda for his second place. Having grabbed maximum points with a certain win, he wanted Lauda to lose points to help him in the championship race. He said: “I was a bit annoyed with everybody else at Brands, because I needed Niki to get a whole lot less than six points for second place.” But Lauda remained unchallenged as the two had been going so fast that the rest of the field was well behind. Conveniently, Regazzoni and Laffite dropped out with mechanical problems, thus saving the stewards the trouble of disqualifying them.

  As he crossed the line and saw the chequered flag, Hunt raised both arms aloft to acknowledge the ecstatic fans. He said many years later to his biographer Gerald Donaldson: “Brands is such an intimate circuit anyway, and you feel the crowd more than you do anywhere else. You can sense the emotion and the movement all the time, even though you are not necessarily looking at the crowd. It’s there and you respond to it.” He added: “It was a fantastic feeling for me, as I sat in my car, to know I had all this support – really quite incredible.”

  As far as Hunt was concerned, he had properly and legally won the British Grand Prix. But not everyone thought that, most notably not Daniele Audetto. In fact, initially, Ferrari, Tyrrell and Copersucar teams lodged official protests against Hunt’s victory. These three teams all stood to gain points if Hunt was disqualified. Tyrrell and Copersucar eventually withdrew their protests and the stewards rejected Ferrari’s claim. Ferrari said it would take the matter under appeal to the FIA court in Paris but no one took them too seriously. Since Audetto had earlier been vigorously arguing that Regazzoni should be allowed to restart in his spare car, Caldwell asked him how he could now appeal against Hunt starting again in his race car. Audetto gasped at the hypocrisy, remembering how Caldwell had reversed his own spare car argument as soon as Hunt’s race car was repaired. He just stared at Caldwell and said three words: “It’s my job.” With that, he stalked away.

  Hunt’s win marked one of the greatest days in British Grand Prix history. It certainly had been the most controversial day ever seen in Brands Hatch. Afterwards, as the other drivers helicoptered away, he stayed at the track until midnight drinking with friends, who were camping nearby. They had set up a barbecue beside their tents in the car park to celebrate, and there was plenty of celebrating to do. Hunt had earned nine points, bringing his total to 35 points against Lauda’s 58. He was 23 points behind as a trip to the Nürburgring loomed a fortnight hence, on the first day of August.

  CHAPTER 23

  Near Death Experience Niki Lauda 1976

  Back from the dead and as fast as ever

  Niki Lauda arrived at the Nürburgring for the 1976 German Grand Prix on the Thursday morning before the race on 1st August. It was a very different track in those days. It was the old Nürburgring; 14.2 miles long and unlike any other circuit in the world. Situated in the heavily forested Eiffel mountains, west of Koblenz, it was possibly the least suitable venue for a Formula One Grand Prix. The 14.2 miles contained a staggering 177 corners. The circuit, which opened in 1920, was usually covered in mist and fog and often damp with varying weather conditions at each end.

  It was without doubt the most dangerous circuit in the world. By 1976, over 140 drivers had been killed in 56 years; an average of nearly three a year. It was not until 1974, after a campaign by Jackie Stewart, that safety was addressed. Miles of catch fencing and steel guard rails were installed, finally stopping cars from flying off the circuit into the trees.

  All of this was going through Lauda’s mind as he sat caught up in a traffic jam outside the circuit entrance. As he sat there, stationary in his car with the window open, a fan approached him and showed him a picture of Jochen Rindt’s grave. Lauda was bewildered and wondered what the point was and how he was supposed to react. Pleased with himself, the fan walked off but the incident stuck in Lauda’s mind. Rindt was a fellow Austrian and had been world champion in 1970, but he was killed that same year at the Italian Grand Prix in Monza; only two years before Lauda entered Formula One. Lauda hated omens and wondered whether this was one.

  It signalled the start of what would be the most difficult weekend of Lauda’s life. He had been a firm opponent of the circuit on safety grounds and had wanted it closed. Thinking it far too dangerous, Lauda had voice his concerns in public and had taken a lot of criticism in the media for his views. He was wondering what to expect at the Nürburgring and what sort of welcome he would get.

  A recent television documentary had shown German fans accusing him of being “chicken-hearted” and “cowardly” because of his views of their beloved circuit. One particular fan interviewed said that if Lauda was so terrified of the ring, he should get out of Formula One. Lauda had watched the programme in Germany sitting in a hotel room on his own. Outraged by it, he said: “I was absolutely livid, knotted with rage at my inability to defend myself.”

  Lauda had first visited Nürburgring in 1969 as a twenty-year-old driver in Formula Vee, the German equivalent of Formula Ford in Britain. His views were very different back then, as he remembers: “We didn’t think it was at all bad, only exciting.” In fact, for a long time, Lauda was a big fan of the circuit and one of his ambitions was to drive the ring perfectly. He believed it offered a challenge unlike any other. In 1973, he took a BMW saloon racer round in eight minutes and 17.4 seconds, then a record time for that class of car.

  Later that same year, and again in 1974, Lauda was involved in several major accidents at the circuit. It was a period when drivers were being killed on a regular basis. As lap times became faster, nothing was done about safety. Especially after Jackie Stewart had retired in 1973, the risk factor had become too high. Lauda recalls: “We were endangering not only our lives but the sport of motor racing itself by failing to do something about track safety.”

  Despite the installation of catch fencing and barriers, the problems a
t the Nürburgring were obvious. It was impossible to make safe such a long circuit, especially as much of it was tree-lined. Even with the improvements, the circuit was under constant threat of the FIA withdrawing its racing licence. Finally, in 1974, a three-year programme was launched to make safety improvements.

  1975 saw the first-ever Nürburgring lap of under seven minutes, which Lauda referred to as the “ultimate madness.” Poignantly, it was Lauda himself who drove the lap, and it has not been bettered since. He said: “It was possible only because I was in a special sort of mood that day and ready to go for broke to an extent I have never permitted myself since. As I flashed past the pits, I glanced in my rear-view mirror and saw the mechanics waving their hands in the air. I knew then that I had cracked the seven-minute barrier. To be exact, my new Formula One lap record was 6 minutes 58.6 seconds. And that’s how it stands to this day – no one has ever driven the ring faster.”

  It was a whole minute faster than when Jackie Stewart had driven his Matra-Ford in 1968, seven years earlier. He continues: “My brain kept telling me it was sheer stupidity. I knew every driver was taking his life in his hands to the most ludicrous degree.”

  Jackie Stewart, who won at the circuit three times, most famously in the wet in 1968, agreed with him and said: “I was always afraid. When I left home to race in the German Grand Prix I always used to pause at the end of the driveway and take a long look back. I was never sure that I would come home again.”

  The danger levels were so high that, at a drivers’ meeting in early 1976, Lauda proposed that the German Grand Prix be moved away from the Nürburgring on safety grounds. He was hoping for a driver boycott of the circuit with immediate effect, but he was voted down as a considerable amount of money had been spent on safety precautions.

  That vote was to change Lauda’s life and the course of Formula One history. If it had gone the other way, James Hunt would never have been world champion and Lauda would have become the greatest driver the sport had ever seen. After the vote, Lauda was heavily criticised, which led to the television documentary.

  Before Nürburgring, Lauda had been on top of the world. Comfortably leading the world championship, he looked certain to win again in 1976. It would have made him one of the few men to win back-to-back titles and to successfully defend a title. He had already amassed 61 points, while James Hunt had only 26.

  He had other reasons to be pleased: the Ferrari team management was holding up surprisingly well after the departure of Luca di Montezemolo. Indeed, Lauda had just signed a brand new and highly lucrative contract with Ferrari for the 1977 season. The contract was worth six times the money Hunt was being paid.

  That new contract, signed on the eve of Nürburgring, was to save Lauda’s career. But negotiating it with the 78-year-old Enzo and his son Piero had been the stuff of pantomime. Enzo was not known as ‘Il commendatore’ for nothing and he loved to play the part during the negotiations.

  In a major departure from Ferrari practice, Lauda had been urged by Enzo to extend his next year’s contract in the middle of the season. This was not Enzo Ferrari’s usual practice; he normally liked to keep his drivers on the hook until there were no other drives available, thereby limiting their bargaining ability and pushing down their retainers.

  In fact, Enzo considered himself a very shrewd tactician where drivers’ contracts were concerned. But this time, his street smarts deserted him. He was frantically worried about losing Lauda, who he knew was unhappy after Montezemolo’s departure. He also knew he was receiving big money offers from Bernie Ecclestone’s Brabham team to drive in 1977. The fact that Brabham had Italian engines made that notion unacceptable.

  Enzo was also concerned that there had been friction between Lauda and new team manager Daniele Audetto, and he was desperate to get Lauda’s signature on a contract for 1977. Enzo put as much pressure as he could on Lauda to sign, especially since early negotiations with Audetto had gone nowhere.

  So, in late June, Lauda finally sat down for negotiations with Enzo and Piero in the back room of the Cavallino Restaurant, situated opposite the Ferrari factory in Maranello. Ferrari’s son was there to interpret Enzo’s Italian into English. While Lauda’s Italian was pretty good, Enzo always professed to speak no English, so the role of an interpreter appeared vital to the theatre of the negotiation.

  Lauda told Enzo straightaway that part of his contract must ensure that the team be limited to two drivers in a two-car team. Enzo agreed but rejected Lauda’s attempt to keep Clay Regazzoni as his teammate for 1977. Enzo told him straight out that Regazzoni would be fired at the end of the season.

  Enzo then asked Lauda how much money he wanted, to which Lauda replied with an amount in Austrian schillings. As Lauda recalled in his autobiography To Hell and Back: “[Mr Ferrari] said nothing, but he stands up, goes over to the telephone, calls his accountant, Signor Della Casa, and asks him how much so and so many million schillings are in lire? He waits for a reply, replaces the receiver, walks back across the room and sits down facing me.”

  Lauda recalled that Enzo was silent for a moment and then, after a pause, suddenly screamed in Italian at the very top of his voice: “You insolent pig! How dare you? Are you crazy? We have nothing more to say to each other! We are parting company as of this minute.” Or words to that effect. His son rapidly translated the string of obscenities, and Lauda later recalled that having an interpreter somehow made the expletives more abstract. Admittedly, for Lauda, the spectacle of a 78-year-old man, a legend in motor racing and a hero of all Italy, shouting at him in an unpleasant manner was very disconcerting. But that was how Enzo had planned it. But Lauda had come prepared as well. Remaining completely calm, he replied in English and said to Enzo’s son: “Please tell him that, as we are parting company, I’ll be flying home immediately.” But Piero, realising that Lauda was not joking, said of his own volition: “Sit where you are.”

  Lauda did sit, but the row continued until he invited Enzo to make him a counteroffer. Enzo, by now realising that his intimidatory tactics were not working, tried a new approach of conciliation and reasonableness. He replied that he could not make a counteroffer because he only wanted his drivers to be happy, and any counteroffer he made would only make Lauda unhappy. Lauda then said: “In that case, I really will fly home because there’s surely no point to this if you won’t accept my price and you won’t make a counteroffer.”

  After a long pause, Enzo finally offered him a contract with a retainer at 25 per cent less than the figure Lauda had originally named; believed to be US$300,000. It was now Lauda’s turn to get angry. He told Enzo that Daniele Audetto, in previous informal conversations, had already offered him much more, and added: “Are you trying to make a fool of me?” Feeling that Enzo was being disrespectful, he said: “You want to buy my services, and that is what they cost.” Enzo, believing Lauda was bluffing, yelled at him again: “What is that you say about Audetto?” With that, Enzo rose and called Audetto on the telephone. He ordered him to come to the Cavallino and explain himself. He was calling Lauda’s bluff. But when the hapless team manager arrived at the restaurant, he confirmed he had already offered Lauda that sum informally. Enzo scowled at Audetto, but with a twinkle in his eye. He looked at Lauda and said: “Well, if one of my employees is mad enough to offer that kind of money, I guess I’ll have to go along with it. But that’s my final offer.”

  It still wasn’t high enough for Lauda, who made a counteroffer. Calling him “incorrigible”, Enzo reminded him of his blood pressure. He asked if Lauda was trying to kill him with such unreasonable demands. Lauda said to his son: “Tell him you would never have been world champion without me.” But Piero refused to translate it, knowing his father would explode again. Lauda later claimed that Enzo’s subsequent rant, heard by the whole restaurant, lasted at least half an hour.

  After he had calmed down, another half hour of relatively more reasonable negotiations followed. Finally, Enzo said: “How much do you want?” Lauda dropped his
original price by four per cent and said: “My final offer.”

  Enzo replied: “Okay, Jew boy.” And, with that, the pantomime was over.

  Lauda did not take offence at Enzo’s last remark and shook his hand. His new deal was worth a shade under US$345,000. As soon as the deal was agreed, Ferrari embraced Lauda warmly and openly, as if they had just enjoyed a convivial lunch together. As Lauda recalled: “The next moment he was a charming old man, the most delightful company anyone could imagine.”

  But Enzo Ferrari would come to regret signing that contract, which included many other Lauda demands that would later save his career after he was injured. Without it, there is little doubt he would have been fired and replaced with Carlos Reutemann, and James Hunt would have been world champion long before the final race in Japan.

  As for Lauda, life couldn’t have been better. He had everything he wanted. With his personal deals, he would earn over half a million dollars in 1977, guaranteed.

  So it was little wonder he was starting to think more deeply about the dangers of racing at Nürburgring. For the first time, he admitted he was scared of racing at the circuit: “I’m glad to see the finish line every lap. I’m frightened, I don’t mind telling you.” But he added: “You either don’t come or you get on with the job of racing. So I’ve got on with the job and I’ve wound up on pole position again.” But not quite this time.

  When qualifying ended on Saturday afternoon, James Hunt was on pole position. Lauda, with safety on his mind, admitted he was not driving as fast as he could. He was second on the grid and only a second slower than Hunt; over a seven minute lap, it was ridiculously close. Lauda summed it up: “My personal opinion is that the Nürburgring is just too dangerous to drive on nowadays.”