Well, we go into the second last Grand prix with only
Hakkinen and Michael Schumacher in the hunt for this year’s title. With
Schumacher 8 points in front, it looks like a close contest. But has it
been? Not for my money, it hasn’t.
Quite frankly, I am prepared for all the wails and
mutterings from the Finnish community - but look at the results this year.
Schumacher has won 7 times so far, while Hakkinen has had 4 first places.
In Monaco, Schumacher was way in front till the rear suspension collapsed.
At the Spanish GP, Ferrari cocked up the refuelling and pit work, and a
puncture then finished the German’s chances. In the Austrian and German
GP’s Schumacher was outed at the start of the race, while being at the
pointed end after qualifying. I’ll go so far as to say that Schumacher
would have won at least two of those four races, and been well placed in
the other two. If luck had been on his side, the title would be in his
hands by now.
Mind you, I still don’t like the man all that much -
but he certainly shows he has the skill. His abilities in the wet and damp
conditions mark him as the best - and I want to see the “best” driver
win the Title of the best Formula 1 driver. That has to be Michael
Schumacher.
So we are in Japan this weekend. What time does it
start? Well, I got the US GP all wrong (Kim got it right), but I’ll
hazard the guess that it should be 12.30 in the afternoon. A very sociable
hour. Join me for lunch in Shenanigans (formerly known as Delaney’s) and
we’ll enjoy the race on the big screen.
Slipstreaming
Michael Schumacher used slipstreaming to great effect
during Qualifying for the US GP at Indianapolis, sling-shotting past team
mate Barichello to pick up a couple of tenths. McLaren were gob-smacked
and told Coulthard and Hakkinen to try it - and guess what? It worked
again! The world stood still! Such innovation! Such audacity!
Keerist, race drivers have been using slipstreaming
techniques for the past 70 years. It has always worked. If you imagine
that a race car is just a giant house-brick, battering its way through the
air, you don’t have to be Einstein to work out that a house-brick
closely following behind doesn’t have to push so hard. House-brick
number one has done it for him. The end result is that number 2 can use
all the power to propel itself along the ground, so is consequently faster
by the end of the straight.
What a lot of people don’t understand, however, is
that the “clear air” from the front car is in a V shape behind it - 15
degrees each side (like the wake of a speedboat) so you can actually sit
in the rear three quarter of the car in front, where he can’t see you,
and still get the benefit of the aerodynamic “tow”. Sneaky trick
number 372 from the Old Doc’s manual of motor racing!
Teams have been using this technique in qualifying to
get their cars further up the grid for years. I had to laugh at the press
conference after Qualifying when the announcer asked Hakkinen if it was
his idea to tow Coulthard around for a better time and when he said,
“Yes, it was.” Schumacher then said quietly, “I thought it was mine,
actually!”
Autotrivia Quiz
Last week I asked about the car called “Il Porco
Rosso” (the Red Pig) which was only entered for one GP and promptly
killed its driver in practice for the event. I wanted to know what was the
car, and even more importantly, what was the driver’s name?
Well, it was the 1930 Alfa Romeo Tipo A with two
engines, two gearboxes and two drive trains. It was an incredibly
difficult car to drive, and decidedly so for the driver that it despatched
towards the hereafter. His name was Arcangeli - and if you can kill a
driver with that name, then it really was a satanic motorcar!
So to this week. What important vehicle did the Bantam
Engineering Company in Detroit design and build? It spawned millions of
derivatives and the name is still going today.
For the Automania FREE beer this week, be the first
correct answer to fax 427 596 or email [email protected]
.
Twin trouble
While researching the quiz question, I came upon one of
the best articles on twin engine pre-war race cars. This was written by a
very dear, but departed friend of mine from Oz, the late Leo McAuliffe.
Leo was the ultimate enthusiast and was the one who taught me how to drive
fast, so I am always in debt to his memory. The following humorous
extract, written by Leo, was in a story published in a long defunct
magazine. I know I can print this with his permission, and being unable to
contact the defunct publishers, here are some of Leo’s words.
“For the 1934 Tripoli Grand Prix, Maserati entered a
(twin engine) 16 cylinder car known as the V5, driven by Piero Taruffi. By
the sixth lap of the race Taruffi was in second place and looked set to
take the lead from Varzi’s P3 Alfa Romeo when suddenly, while
negotiating a long sweeping right hander at 230 kph he appeared to lose
control.
“The car spun violently several times before
launching itself into the air at seemingly undiminished speed and then
speared straight through the middle of a trackside advertising billboard
erected by the Italian line which proclaimed, ‘It’s more fun by
ship’. The sound of an exploding Maserati and a disintegrating billboard
was not unlike a broadside from the battleship Garibaldi anchored in
Tripoli Harbour.
“It also had a disquieting effect not only on the
spectators but also on several camels, which galloped across the track,
giving several drivers a deep and meaningful religious experience.
“When the sand had settled all that could be found of
the Maserati was the coupled engine assembly securely embedded in an
inoffensive Fiat. Of Taruffi there was nary a sign; like some latter day
Elijah he had just disappeared, presumably into the heavens.
“Eventually, though, a combination of Italian curses
and prayers led Taruffi’s rescuers to a place where they could scarcely
have been expected to find him. Apparently having been flung from the car
in the crash, he had finished up under a parked ambulance! This was
nothing if not bizarrely convenient. All his rescuers had to do was place
him in the cross emblazoned vehicle, which then lurched off at high speeds
towards the hospital. The incredulous ambulance driver was particularly
appreciative of Taruffi ‘...coming to us. Usually we have to come to
you.’
“Taruffi survived both the crash and the ambulance
ride to the hospital. The Maserati was not so fortunate; it was beyond
repair. The engines, though, were retrieved and installed in a racing boat
which distinguished itself by sinking at its moorings before its first
race.
“Once again the engines were salvaged and more than
55 years later they emerged as a modern ‘objet d’art’ and were
offered for sale in Italy by a fine arts dealer. The new owner may well
have found that he also bought some unexpected pieces of an old Fiat...
and some sand from Tripoli.”
Thank you Leo, and I’ll raise a glass for you tonight
in Shenanigans.
