TWENTY YEARS AGO, with Wil­liams, driv­ing the stan­dard-set­ting FW18. In his re­cent au­to­bi­og­ra­phy, he re­calls his feel­ings as he drove that spe­cial car for what he thought would be the last time: “As I cruised around on the slow­down lap I was even more awar

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“I’d gone through such in­tense ex­pe­ri­ences in that cock­pit. It was where my whole con­scious­ness had lived to the max­i­mum; ev­ery­thing that I had wanted for my life had been in­vested in that cramped space, all the sweat and breath ex­pended, and heart­beats thumped dur­ing the laps. Ev­ery cor­ner, ev­ery kerb, ev­ery bar­rier. Ev­ery car in front, all the shunts and spray and fans wav­ing; start lights viewed in­tensely through the tiny let­ter­box of my vi­sor. All of th­ese were burned into my mind’s eye for­ever. But soon it would be time to leave her for good. She’d looked af­ter me this one, my lit­tle FW18.”

PETER WIND­SOR & DA­MON HILL

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