“There’s not a day I don’t rue the fact I never won a race. But you could win the ti­tle and it would de­pend how you did it. Ques­tion­able tac­tics leave a scar in your mind. That must grind on you ev­ery day. I don’t have that.”

In an eight-year F1 ca­reer tak­ing in 79 starts and stints at Fer­rari and McLaren, Ste­fan Jo­hans­son never won a GP. But he came away with his in­tegrity in­tact


Ste­fan Jo­hans­son lived on London’s Ful­ham Road for sev­eral years and yet he’d never set foot inside the mag­nif­i­cent Miche­lin House across the road. It’s a strange omis­sion – one that F1 Rac­ing is happy to put right with lunch in the build­ing’s ex­cel­lent Biben­dum restau­rant – be­cause the Art Nou­veau style ap­peals to a for­mer rac­ing driver with a taste for clas­si­cal ar­chi­tec­ture, ne art and the business of man­u­fac­tur­ing his own wrist watches.

Time has never stood still for this cheer­ful Swede who struck the per­fect bal­ance be­tween driv­ing quickly and en­joy­ing life in and out of the cock­pit. It’s one of the travesties of the sport that he never won a grand prix in more than 100 at­tempts. But you don’t get to drive for McLaren and Fer­rari if you are short on tal­ent. Th­ese days, Jo­hans­son puts ex­pe­ri­ence gained across a broad mo­tor-rac­ing spec­trum to good use when man­ag­ing driv­ers, com­pet­ing in a erce com­mer­cial mar­ket in top-of-the-range watches and rac­ing sportscars when­ever he gets the chance. He turned 58 in Septem­ber. You’d never know it to see him; only his won­der­ful stock of rac­ing sto­ries gives the game away. Mau­rice Hamil­ton: I was think­ing as we came in that you used to live in this area. Ste­fan Jo­hans­son: Right across the road. I had a two-bed­room apart­ment on the fth oor. Jac­que­line Bisset was my up­stairs neigh­bour back in the days when she was a fa­mous movie star. She was go­ing out with some Rus­sian bal­let dancer and the ghts they used to have were ab­so­lutely leg­endary in this neigh­bour­hood. MH: You must have been do­ing well be­cause this is a very smart area. SJ: We’re talk­ing 1984 and, back then, this area was crap! There was ab­so­lutely noth­ing here, but then Con­ran moved in, fol­lowed by other high-end stores, and the place just took off. Chanel, which you can see over there, used to be a raggedy old car­pet store. MH: My rst mem­ory of you was driv­ing like a crazy man at Monaco in 1977. Ev­ery­one was talk­ing about this kid with the black hel­met in the Argo F3 car. You were side­ways ev­ery­where. SJ: Yeah, I fin­ished fourth and got banned. MH: What, from Monaco? I mean, you weren’t dan­ger­ous – just very spec­tac­u­lar. SJ: I’d qual­i­fied re­ally well and ev­ery­one was trip­ping over them­selves try­ing to get by. There’s me, fresh from Swe­den with no ex­pe­ri­ence what­so­ever; my first time in Monaco. I got a let­ter from the Au­to­mo­bile Club say­ing I was not wel­come back. I can’t re­mem­ber what hap­pened af­ter­wards, but it was sorted out pretty quickly. MH: It was a pri­vate en­try, if I re­mem­ber rightly; you were very much on your own. SJ: It was crazy. I left Swe­den in my Mercedes van, which every­body had in those days, to drive down there. I’d been work­ing night and day the whole week to get the car ready. I had to leave for Monaco on my own be­cause my dad – who helped out at the races – and my me­chanic had to work at their day jobs.

I was so tired, I could barely keep my eyes open. Driv­ing through Den­mark, I was lit­er­ally ght­ing to get to the port. I could see the ferry about a mile down the road and I guess I must have re­laxed be­cause I fell asleep. Luck­ily, I didn’t hit any­thing. I got on the ferry think­ing there was no way I was go­ing to be able to drive the two days or what­ever to get to France.

About an hour into Ger­many, there’s this guy hitch­hik­ing at the side of the road. I said: “Do you know how to drive th­ese things?” “Yeah, mate. No wor­ries.” Turns out he’s a Kiwi and a rac­ing fan who wants to get to Monaco. So he jumped in and started driv­ing. I got in the back and slept for about ve or six hours. His name was John Good­win, a re­ally good guy, and he ended up be­ing my me­chanic for the whole year. MH: I also re­mem­ber the nal of the UK F3 cham­pi­onship in ’79 be­cause, be­ing from North­ern Ire­land, I was sup­port­ing Kenny Acheson. He’d led the cham­pi­onship all year and you were sud­denly on a roll and nicked it from him in the last race at Thrux­ton. SJ: I re­mem­ber it well. We switched from a March with four races to go and Ralt were way su­pe­rior. But I had to win ev­ery race and get fastest lap to win it by one point. That’s ex­actly what hap­pened. MH: It’s an in­ter­est­ing ex­am­ple of how you can dom­i­nate all year, lose by one point and yet still be a good driver, even if peo­ple over­look you for not win­ning the ti­tle. SJ: Ex­actly. Kenny was fan­tas­tic but, on the day, the cir­cum­stances weren’t right. You get to a cer­tain level and there’s so lit­tle be­tween every­body that it comes down to nu­ances. It’s par­tic­u­larly ev­i­dent in F1 to­day, be­cause of how the cars are. Cer­tain cars suit cer­tain driv­ing styles. Fer­nando Alonso, for ex­am­ple, is able to adapt. But Se­bas­tian Vet­tel and Kimi Räikkö­nen had a real hard time in 2014. It’s about feel; that last lit­tle thing to give the con­fi­dence on en­try to cor­ners. That leads to over-driv­ing and then you go even slower. It’s a ne bal­ance. MH: I hear what you say but, go­ing back to Kenny, would you say he was too nice a guy? SJ: Yeah – but I’ve ac­cused my­self of that, too. I think I was too nice be­cause, to be world cham­pion, you have to be a bit of a bas­tard. MH: Say­ing that, do you think per­haps Ayr­ton Senna went too far the other way in his com­pletely sin­gle-minded ap­proach? SJ: I do, in­so­far as he was ob­sessed with Alain Prost. I won­der what would hap­pen to­day if a driver sud­denly took it upon him­self to be judge and jury and take another driver off with the whole eld be­hind him [as in­fa­mously hap­pened be­tween Prost and Senna at the 1990 Ja­panese GP]. They’d ban you for life – and rightly so. Can you imag­ine if Prost’s rear wing had landed on the track? It would have hit somebody, caused a chain re­ac­tion and taken the whole eld out as they went into the cor­ner, at in fth. And they did noth­ing about it. I’m of­ten asked who’s the best driver. For that rea­son, Senna’s not even in my top ve. He’s prob­a­bly the fastest. But you can never con­sider him the best. MH: Okay, you’re not sin­gle-minded to that ex­tent. Per­haps I should say you’re more of an op­por­tunist, al­ways look­ing for the deal. Your at­ti­tude would ap­pear to be: it ain’t gonna come to you, you’ve got to get out there. SJ: Def­i­nitely. What­ever you’re talk­ing about in life, you’ve got to work for it. If you sit and wait, it’ll be a long wait. MH: Say­ing that, was jumping into the Shadow for your F1 de­but in 1979 per­haps a step too far? Talk about get­ting thrown in the deep end. SJ: There I was in Ar­gentina, I’d never tested the car and the seat was be­ing made in the pit­lane. F3 was the fastest se­ries I’d ever driven be­fore rst prac­tice. All my he­roes were there: Jonesy [Alan Jones], Car­los Reute­mann, Mario An­dretti; ev­ery one of them. I spent more time look­ing in the mir­rors than I did at the road. The car was a hand­ful: it was an ed­u­ca­tion, for sure. MH: After that, I take it the deal with Ron Den­nis for F3 in 1979 made a lot more sense? SJ: Ab­so­lutely. I’d been talk­ing to Ron over the win­ter. It was an easy decision to make. MH: As, I’m sure, was be­ing asked to drive for Spirit-Honda in F1 in 1983. This was Honda us­ing a small team to dip their toe in F1 wa­ter. SJ: It was. The rst race was the Race of Cham­pi­ons at Brands Hatch. We were quick all week­end and then the en­gine blew up after about three laps. No one could get heat into the tyres – it was freez­ing cold – but the Spirit weighed a ton and was blis­ter­ing the hard­est tyre we had while ev­ery­one else was on the soft­est. We had more grip than we could ask for. It had looked good… and Fer­rari took no­tice.

“It was freez­ing cold, but the Spirit was blis­ter­ing the hard­est tyre. We had more grip than we could ask for”

MH: We’ll come back to Fer­rari. Be­fore that, you and Spirit were left in the lurch for 1984 when Honda went off to Wil­liams. How did you cope? SJ: I drove any­thing I could get my hands on, which is the ad­vice I still give to ev­ery driver I work with. You learn some­thing ev­ery time you sit in a car. More than any­thing, you learn race­craft. I think that’s lack­ing with the young kids to­day be­cause they don’t get enough driv­ing. They’re in for­mu­lae where there’s no real hard rac­ing. I did F2 in Ja­pan, I did Group C with Joest, tour­ing cars – what­ever. MH: I take it you wouldn’t nec­es­sar­ily agree with a 17-year-old go­ing straight into F1? SJ: I re­ally don’t know what to say be­cause it’s con­nected with how the whole of F1 has changed. The cars are so… weird, if that’s the right word. I don’t think they’re chal­leng­ing enough. A proper race car should be a beast to drive. Th­ese guys ar­rive in Abu Dhabi for their rst test and they’re a cou­ple of tenths off Alonso’s or Vet­tel’s qual­i­fy­ing time. That just shouldn’t hap­pen. MH: You mean, re­fer­ring to the cars, you need to stand at the edge of the track and go: “Wow!”? SJ: That’s what I mean. Like watch­ing Senna qual­i­fy­ing; you’ve got to take your hat off and say it was just magic to watch. Senna’s steer­ing was not point­ing straight for one sec­ond around Monaco. Now you watch the on-board cam­era and the car is hardly out of shape. The only thing that seems to hap­pen is they’ll lock up and miss the apex if they go a lit­tle bit too deep. MH: Go­ing back to ’84, I came across a story about you driv­ing a Porsche 935 at Se­bring. Can you re­peat it be­cause I couldn’t quite be­lieve what I was read­ing? SJ: Rein­hold Joest called me, last minute, and said he’d got this Colom­bian driver [Mauri­cio de Narváez] who was pay­ing a lot of money to do Se­bring and would I be part of the team with Hans Heyer? Hans and I were on the same ight leav­ing Frankfurt on the Mon­day be­cause prac­tice started on Wed­nes­day with the race on Satur­day. Ev­ery­thing that could go wrong did go wrong. A re-routed ight, en­gine prob­lems… we landed at Mi­ami and had to drive through the night on Fri­day, ar­riv­ing at Se­bring at about 9am – and the race started at 11am. I’d never been to the track, never seen this car be­fore, and, once again, I’m hav­ing a seat tting in the pits.

The Colom­bian guy qual­i­fied about 40th out of around 80 cars. He did the first stint and then Hans started mo­tor­ing, pick­ing up a few places. Then it was my turn – and all I knew of the track was the rst left-han­der, be­cause I could see it from the pits. That’s when I dis­cov­ered this car was a mon­ster; a beast. It had almost 1,000bhp, no aero, big fat tyres and a ex­ing chas­sis. But the worst part is the diff was 100 per cent locked.

At the time, Se­bring was an in­cred­i­bly wide air­field track with no ref­er­ence points at all. I was try­ing to follow some of the cars, but I wasn’t up to speed. When you lift com­pletely and turn to the right, the car will ba­si­cally straighten up be­cause of the locked diff, which feels like you’re turn­ing left. I had Minis pass­ing me; I was all over the place; it was an hour of ab­so­lute tor­ture.

Hans had to tell me how to drive th­ese things and this track. After five or six laps of the next stint, I was get­ting the hang of it to the point where I was do­ing the same lap time as the lead­ers. Some­times you get an in­cred­i­ble rhythm and I ended up do­ing the last four stints. Lit­tle by lit­tle, I picked them off. With 15 min­utes to go, I passed Hans Stuck for the lead, and we won.

Ev­ery­one on the team was over the moon. I go from parc fermé to the podium and they say: “Er, who are you?” We hadn’t had time to sign in and they didn’t have a clue who I was. The other two were on the podium but the of­fi­cials wouldn’t let me join them. I had to fight my way up there! MH: The line in the story that re­ally struck me was that you’d gone through all this, you’d won the race – and yet all you could think about was the first F1 race of the sea­son which was tak­ing place on the same week­end in Rio. SJ: It’s true. That re­sult mat­tered and yet it didn’t mat­ter be­cause all I wanted was to be in F1. MH: And your pa­tience was re­warded when Ken Tyrrell asked you to deputise for Martin Brun­dle, who had been in­jured in Dal­las. But that was a Cos­worth car, right? SJ: It was the only nor­mally as­pi­rated car in the eld, but it was another chance for me to make my mark. Once again, thrown in at the deep end, no test­ing, straight into the first ses­sion at Brands Hatch – and I out­qual­i­fied Ste­fan Bellof. MH: That was quite some­thing be­cause he was recog­nised as a huge prospect. SJ: I out­raced him too; in fact, I did at ev­ery race. That’s all you can do, beat your team-mate, who, in this case, was a phe­nom­e­nal driver. Ken was fan­tas­tic to drive for. There was no pres­sure and he made you feel good. That was im­por­tant be­cause it builds your con­fi­dence. It was such a fam­ily team. Nora [Ken’s wife] used to make sand­wiches in the ho­tel be­fore we went to the track in the morn­ing. Imag­ine that now!

“The Old Man asks: ‘Are you hun­gry?’ I say: ‘I’ve never been more hun­gry in my life.’ Mr Fer­rari nods. Marco says: ‘You’re in’”

MH: Then you had that fan­tas­tic drive in the Tole­man at Monza when Ayr­ton was benched be­cause of a con­trac­tual row. Next thing, in ’85, you’re at Fer­rari. Tell us how that came about. SJ: That drive in the Spirit at Brands Hatch had put me on their radar. But what re­ally got Fer­rari in­ter­ested was a great re­sult with the Tole­man in Por­tu­gal. I was dic­ing with Niki Lauda the whole race, and out­qual­i­fied Ayr­ton on the first day.

I had a two-year con­tract with Tole­man but, it’s amaz­ing when you think about it now, they couldn’t get tyres and couldn’t take part in the rst race of 1985. So, I’m back in the Tyrrell again, thanks to al­ways be­ing ready. Ken had benched Bellof for some rea­son and I was in Brazil as a spec­ta­tor. At some­thing like 8am on the Satur­day morn­ing, Ken asked if I had my gear with me. “Of course!” “Right – you’re driv­ing!” Next thing, Fer­rari and René Arnoux fall out and I get the call.

I met [Fer­rari team man­ager] Marco Pic­cinini at the Savoy in London and ba­si­cally agreed all the terms in prin­ci­ple. I called Alex Hawkridge – be­cause I was still con­tracted to Tole­man – and he said: “You’ve got to take it, I’m not go­ing to hold you back, this is the op­por­tu­nity of a lifetime.” He was very gra­cious and let me go.

On the Tues­day be­fore the next race in Por­tu­gal I’m told I have a se­cret meet­ing. I’m picked up at Bologna air­port and go, not to Maranello, but the for­mer Fer­rari fac­tory in Mo­dena. It’s just an old build­ing with a lot of dust and some old cars. We walk through the cor­ri­dor. No lights are on, but shafts of af­ter­noon sun­light are com­ing through the win­dows. There are pic­tures of Nu­volari, As­cari, Fan­gio; all my he­roes. I’ve got goose bumps just walk­ing through there. Then we come to what was the Old Man’s of­fice. It’s long and nar­row and all you can see is this fa­mil­iar sil­hou­ette. It’s only Enzo Fer­rari him­self! The whole thing is like a Fellini movie: ab­so­lutely un­be­liev­able.

Pic­cinini and Piero Fer­rari are also there. Marco is do­ing the trans­la­tion and most of the talk­ing. The Old Man asks me one thing: “Are you hun­gry?” I’m sure what to say. As it hap­pens, I’m ab­so­lutely starv­ing after trav­el­ling all day, so I think I say: “I’ve never been more hun­gry in my life.” Mr Fer­rari nods. Marco says: “You’re in.” That was it. We went back to the fac­tory that night and I had to jump in Michele Al­boreto’s seat and did about ten laps at Fio­rano. Then we ew to Por­tu­gal and I was straight into rst prac­tice as a works Fer­rari driver. The whole thing was like a dream. MH: Did you think: ‘nally, after all my hard work, I’ve ar­rived’? Or, did you think: ‘never mind the sen­ti­men­tal stuff, the pres­sure is on’? SJ: I didn’t think about the pres­sure so much then; that came a lit­tle later. It’s no se­cret

that ev­ery driver as­pires to drive the red car one day. It’s the ul­ti­mate. But of course, then you ar­rive into that F1 sit­u­a­tion with pol­i­tics and all the other funny stuff that starts hap­pen­ing. MH: Which you hadn’t re­ally ex­pe­ri­enced be­fore. You’re talk­ing about the Ital­ian me­dia and so on? SJ: Well, the me­dia was part of it. But this wasn’t Fer­rari’s best pe­riod. There were fac­tions within the team and I never gured out a way to nav­i­gate through all that. Prost said the same: you make one friend; you make two en­e­mies. MH: Did you see much of the Old Man? SJ: All the time. Ev­ery day we tested at Fio­rano, we had lunch with him. It was bril­liant. Of course, you want to be a cham­pion but life goes far beyond what you do on a race­track. My mem­o­ries of be­ing with him are out­stand­ing. He’s the most ex­tra­or­di­nary hu­man be­ing I’ve ever met. MH: That’s quite a state­ment. Did you get the feel­ing he was a real racer? SJ: Ab­so­lutely. One hun­dred per cent pas­sion, like it is for all of us. MH: Did you ever feel he was try­ing to catch you out or play games with his driv­ers? SJ: No. He loved his driv­ers, but we had the sort of dy­namic you get when guys are to­gether and talk­ing, not just about rac­ing, but life in gen­eral. They were good times with great mem­o­ries. MH: And then you had that won­der­ful race at Imola, your sec­ond with Fer­rari. Is it fair to ask if win­ning it would have changed ev­ery­thing? SJ: Yes, it would. It was so frus­trat­ing be­cause, if I ever did ev­ery­thing right in a race, that was the day. I had been su­per-quick in prac­tice, but then the oor came off in qual­i­fy­ing – which we only dis­cov­ered later – and I had no down­force. I was all over the place and qual­i­fied 15th. But I knew I was quick. Har­vey Postleth­waite was my man and we laid up the game plan. I knew what I had with the tyres and we had the data num­ber on the fuel. I stayed on that the whole time, so I knew I was go­ing to make it to the end – and I was catch­ing ev­ery­one. When you race, your mind is like a com­puter; it’s on full alert and you work ev­ery­thing out. I wish I could think like that all the time, be­cause it’s amaz­ing. It’s the state of mind you’re in. It’s magic. That’s why I still race, be­cause I love it. MH: But you didn’t love it so much one lap after tak­ing the lead… SJ: There was this lit­tle crack on the in­let man­i­fold, which was suck­ing in air. So, the en­gine was com­pen­sat­ing, push­ing more fuel in to have the mix­ture the right way. Oth­er­wise we would have made it com­fort­ably. MH: There were just two and a half laps to go when you ran out. Never mind a win in Italy, it would have been a grand prix win, pe­riod. How did the rest of the year go? SJ: It was up and down. The car was dif­fi­cult to drive and wasn’t easy to get right all the time but, over­all, it was quick. Michele still had a shot for the ti­tle un­til quite late. In Canada, I had to obey team or­ders, oth­er­wise I would have won there, for sure. At the Nür­bur­gring, I was on the front row and felt I should have won that race, too. Michele hit me at the start and cut my rear tyre. Then he won it, but I’d been quicker than him all week­end. As the sea­son went on we had more and more prob­lems. Then the en­gine started to lack per­for­mance; we qual­i­fied 15th and 16th for the fi­nal race in South Africa: it was a dis­as­ter. MH: What led to the move to McLaren? SJ: The 1986 Fer­rari was hope­less. My only ob­jec­tive was to beat Michele in the cham­pi­onship, which I did. I’d been talk­ing a fair bit with Ron Den­nis. McLaren won the ti­tle in 1986 and when the chance came up, I felt it was the right thing to do. The tim­ing was bad, but I was bet­ter off at McLaren than at Fer­rari be­cause they re­mained in the dumps. Say­ing that, the McLaren was one of the most difcult cars they’ve ever had – even Prost said it was a bitch to drive. It was very ner­vous; very edgy. You needed a lot of condence to go quickly. Ron had al­ready done the deal with Senna, but he had to wait a year. So it was in every­body’s best in­ter­est that I didn’t do too well. I ended up do­ing about 35 laps of test­ing the whole year. That was it. MH: I sup­pose there must have been mas­sively dif­fer­ent cul­tures be­tween Fer­rari and McLaren? SJ: As dif­fer­ent as could pos­si­bly be. Ron, let’s face it, moved the goal posts for every­body and set the stan­dard ev­ery year.

“In 1987 Ron had done the deal with Senna. So it was in every­body’s best in­ter­ests that I didn’t do too well”

MH: Would you say you were at Fer­rari to­wards the end of what you might call the ro­man­tic era when the Old Man was still alive? SJ: Def­i­nitely. I’m happy I was there in that era. It’s a life ex­pe­ri­ence I’ve taken with me. MH: So after McLaren, where do we go? Ah, Ligier! Talk about one ex­treme to the other SJ: Oh man! At lunch one day, Michel Tetu [Ligier de­signer] was think­ing out loud and men­tioned split­ting the fuel tank: one half in front of the en­gine, the other half be­hind. Some­one said: “Oui.” And that was it! Arnoux and I used to joke that the only thing that kept the car on the ground was the chief de­signer, New­ton, be­cause he in­vented grav­ity. MH: And then Onyx. SJ: That was a great. If you look at what we did with the re­sources we had, and how late it all came to­gether, I don’t think any­one, to this day, has even come close. We nished third in Por­tu­gal and came close a cou­ple of other times, too. Don’t for­get, we had to do pre-qual­i­fy­ing at ev­ery race. Talk about pres­sure, be­cause all the cars in pre-qual­i­fy­ing were quick. If you made it through, you were just junk for the rest of the day be­cause there had been so much pres­sure on the rst morn­ing. The Onyx was de­signed by Alan Jenk­ins: it was a great car and looked fan­tas­tic. It was the best feel­ing I’ve had in any of the teams in F1 be­cause it was such a tight op­er­a­tion and every­body fought so hard to make it hap­pen. After driv­ing for AGS and Foot­work in 1991, I’d sort of had enough, which is why I started look­ing at Amer­ica. I loved it there. MH: What did you like about it? SJ: The rac­ing is fan­tas­tic. To this day I be­lieve that IndyCar is the best rac­ing in the world. It goes right down to the wire in almost ev­ery race. But when the split came, ev­ery­thing went side­ways and then I started my Indy Lights team. MH: I bet you saw life from a dif­fer­ent an­gle when run­ning a team. SJ: It cer­tainly made me ap­pre­ci­ate team own­ers a lot more than be­fore. When you’re a driver, you’d knock the front wing off and come in and start shout­ing at them to hurry up and t a new one. As a team owner, you see the car com­ing down the pit­lane and think: ‘Shit! There’s another 35 grand.’ You have a com­pletely dif­fer­ent take on it. But the thing that doesn’t change is that you al­ways want to win. MH: How do you look back on your ca­reer as a driver? You’ve had a fan­tas­tic time, but is there any sense of frus­tra­tion? SJ: I’ve been blessed. If you can do what you love ev­ery day of your life, you can’t com­plain. But we all have big egos, oth­er­wise you won’t get far in this business. I can’t deny that there’s not one day I don’t rue the fact that I never won a grand prix or that I didn’t be­come cham­pion. On the other hand, you could win the ti­tle and it would de­pend how you did it. You have a life away from what hap­pens on the race track and ques­tion­able tac­tics will leave a scar in your mind. That must grind on you ev­ery sin­gle day. I don’t have that. MH: In other words, you’ve en­joyed a hard ca­reer – but it’s been fair. SJ: Ex­actly. I’m not com­plain­ing. MH: It’s been great hear­ing about it in your usual inim­itable style, Ste­fan. Thank you so much. Thanks to Fiona McFall at Biben­dum. For book­ings and en­quiries visit www.biben­dum.co.uk

Jo­hans­son rac­ing the tricky Spirit-Honda at Brands Hatch in 1983 – the drive that brought him to the at­ten­tion of Fer­rari

Jo­hans­son in his sec­ond and fi­nal sea­son with Fer­rari, test­ing the F186 at Rio de Janeiro in 1986

Rac­ing the “very ner­vous, very edgy” McLaren MP4/3 in Monaco 1987 as a clear num­ber two to Prost

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia

© PressReader. All rights reserved.