DEREK BELL
The Legend
During the coverage of the Belgian Grand Prix, I was struck by the amount of speculation surrounding Sebastian Vettel’s future. That, and the talking heads opining why his final season with Scuderia Ferrari has become so rancorous; how and why a four-time Formula 1 World Champion finds himself without a ride for 2021. Much was also said about how and why the ‘reds’ are in such dire straits this year, generally running at – or near – the back of the field. It’s painful to watch.
Despite all of what I have heard and read about this situation, one thing is clear: it’s all conjecture. What I will say is that much has been made regarding allegations that were slung in Ferrari’s direction last year when it was highly competitive. What occurred between it and the FIA behind closed doors at the end of the season remains a mystery to all. The performance drop-off in 2020 has been pronounced, that’s for sure. But, more than anything, I wish people would stop slating Ferrari for axing Vettel. It did no such thing. It didn’t renew his contract. He hasn’t been fired. There’s a difference.
I have written about Ferrari more than once in this column and don’t wish to re-tread old ground. Do please bear with me, though. In my opinion, Ferrari is by far and away the greatest name in motor racing, if not the automotive universe as a whole. It was there during the maiden World Championship Grand Prix 70 years ago and I cannot imagine Formula 1 without it. To be a works Ferrari driver means a lot, believe me. Sure, my career with the Scuderia didn’t last very long, but I did compete in Formula 2 and the Tasman series with the team. I also made my Grand Prix debut and first-ever Le Mans start driving scarlet cars from Modena.
Even back in 1968, I was aware that Ferrari had a reputation for making or breaking careers. I had gleaned from lurid magazine articles and word of mouth that Enzo Ferrari put undue pressure on his drivers; that he stoked rivalries. My spell driving for Il Commendatore didn’t go as well as I had hoped, primarily because 1969 saw the team in disarray to the point that there simply wasn’t anything for me to race. The point is, even then the team acted honourably. It always did while I was a factory driver. I was aware of my place in the pecking order and accepted it. I was glad to be there, my hope being that I would impress and move up the hierarchy. I think I was doing precisely that until everything imploded for reasons beyond my control.
Formula 1 isn’t for the genteel. It is called the ‘Piranha Club’ for a reason, and you need to have a certain steeliness to succeed. However, steeliness is one thing; downright arrogance or worse are a different matter entirely. It can rub people up the wrong way. Teams will put up with a lot if you’re competitive, but rather less so if you’re not, yet are still acting the prima donna. I am certainly not suggesting that’s the case with Vettel. I wouldn’t dare, not least because I have no idea what’s going on behind closed doors, but I do know a few drivers whose characters weren’t conducive to lengthy spells with the Scuderia.
Another grandee of motor racing that has struggled for much of the past decade is Williams. In August, it was announced that the last of the true independent teams was to be sold to a private investment group. In many ways I am glad this has happened, if only so that it ensures that a lot of people will keep their jobs, and hopefully sufficient investment will be made to propel the Grove squad forward. It has such a glorious history, I would love to see it return to its winning ways.
I would also like to pay credit to Sir Frank Williams, whom I have known since my Formula 3 days back in the mid-1960s. I have always liked Frank. He was – and remains – a racer to the core. He never was in Formula 1 to sell energy drinks, knitwear or whatever. Williams wasn’t a brand name, it was simply his name.
Way back when, that was the norm: you named your car after yourself rather than a product you were trying to pimp. In the early days, he really didn’t have two pennies to rub together. He didn’t even have a phone in his office. He couldn’t afford one so he conducted deals from a public kiosk. Come to think of it, he didn’t have an office.
I drove for Frank, too. I raced his March 701 in the 1971 Questor Grand Prix. Sadly, the suspension broke. I would have liked to have carried on with him, but he couldn’t afford to pay drivers… I watched in awe at what he went on to achieve, not least after his lifechanging injuries.
You’re an inspiration, Frank.
‘FRANK WILLIAMS NEVER WAS IN FORMULA 1 TO SELL ENERGY DRINKS, KNITWEAR OR WHATEVER’