Lewis Hamilton has written Formula
One's most glorious chapter
Daily Telegraph
www.telegraph.co.uk
3rd November 2008
The Brazilian Grand Prix was
the best finish I can remember to a Grand Prix season and
to end it with the 23-year-old Lewis Hamilton draped in a
Union flag. It can't get better than that.
Watching Lewis Hamilton should come with a health warning.
Dish the sedatives. After the closest finish in grand prix
history, one that made Manchester United's Champions League
win in 1999 appear routine – Jonny Wilkinson's World
Cup winning dropped goal in 2003, too, for that matter – Hamilton
redefined our ideas of what is possible.
He was dead in the water, literally. Felipe Massa crossed
the line first in a wet Brazilian Grand Prix believing he
had nailed a remarkable victory of his own. With only two
corners of the race remaining he had. The BBC website declared
it so and the scenes in the Ferrari garage, where Massa's
father was in the early stages of delirium, appeared to confirm
it.
What they couldn't see was Hamilton arrowing in on history
and the fading Toyota of Timo Glock. Hamilton had surrendered
the fifth place he required to secure the title to Sebastian
Vettel with two laps to go as returning rain forced a chaotic
finale. Glock chose not to come in, a move that seemed to
have torpedoed Hamilton's coronation.
Then, as the rain started to pour, the world came back to
Hamilton. Glock lost 18 seconds in that final lap before
surrendering in the dying moments. Hamilton might not even
have known he had pulled the mother of all rabbits out of
the hat as he crossed the line. The message eventually filtered
through on his in-lap.
Hamilton fell into the emotional embrace of his mechanics.
Ecstasy fizzed through the McLaren garage. And then the meeting
with his father in the weighing room. The import of what
he had achieved took his legs away. His father put an arm
around him as he sat in the chair and the tears flowed. Hamilton
had won by the same margin, one point, by which he had surrendered
the championship a year ago.
At 23 Hamilton has changed the grand prix world. His youth
is the least if it. A frontier has fallen, the last great
colour bar in mainstream sport shattered by a mixed race
kid from Stevenage.
It was the outcome motor sport needed. No disrespect to
Massa. He contributed fully to the piece, pushed Hamilton
to the limits of his talent, to the last seconds of a compelling
duel. But this was the kind of historic moment that a Massa
championship could not have delivered.
Nerves cannot survive a career full of this. An hour before
the race began lightning ripped across a leaden Sao Paulo
sky. Peels of thunder momentarily drowned the din urging
Massa forth. This was one race that had no need of a celestial
atmosphere boost.
As the clock counted down, Hamilton talked quietly with
his father at the back of the garage. At the front a couple
of mechanics high-fived. Team-mate Heikki Kovalainen wished
Hamilton well. How different the scene a year ago with Fernando
Alonso fomenting alongside.
Hamilton was at the sharp end of the most expensively constructed
championship campaigns in F1. Since his win in China a fortnight
ago McLaren had thrown the GNP of a minor monarchy to get
across the line first. All sleep was cancelled. Every nook
and cranny of the car was re-considered in pursuit of extra
speed. Engines ran 24/7 on space-age dynos.
Team principal Ron Dennis claims the gargantuan effort put
an extra tenth of a second in Hamilton's tank. You wondered
if this were not overkill. If any team can overcomplicate
a simple equation it is McLaren. A better response after
China might have been to send Dennis, an inveterate control
freak by his own admission, on holiday for a fortnight. McLaren's
ranks here were swelled by extra staff, including heightened
security to protect against the threat of skulduggery.
There was a lot resting on the result. A barren run stretching
back 10 years in the constructors' championship and nine
in the drivers' was becoming an increasingly toxic detail
for a team who spend on the high side of £200 million
a year. As F1 would have it, all the planning was rendered
meaningless by a shower on the stroke of kick-off. "Typical," said
Bernie Ecclestone, "nothing in Brazil arrives on time."
A 10-minute delay allowed a change to wet tyres. When the
lights went out Nelson Piquet spun through the Senna Esses
ending his race and, cruelly, the career of David Coulthard.
Heart rates soared. The safety car was out for three laps,
nowhere near long enough for the pulse to dip back below
a hundred. That would take a little longer, until the cars
began to spread and Vettel drew back from Hamilton's tail
pipe.
After eight laps the dash for dry tyres began. The variable
Hamilton didn't want was in play. Massa was the first of
the leading group in after 10 laps, Hamilton 11. The episode
dropped him to seventh. Jarno Trulli went wide a lap later.
Hamilton was up to sixth. Then a move reserved for heroes
to dispatch Giancarlo Fisichella.
The manoeuvre through turn one, and the one at turn 12 that
accounted for Glock, bookended a process that began a year
ago. The long march to the summit started in a Sao Paulo
hotel room 24 hours after falling off the 2007 championship
cliff. Food poisoning and heartbreak had brought Hamilton
low. It was an act of cruelty to force him to answer for
his nosedive. He took his lumps and, between lunges for the
toilet bowl, mapped the coming weeks. "There are 22 until
Melbourne," he said. "When I get to Australia I'll be a better
driver; fitter and stronger than before."
Too right, blue. Hamilton won from pole. What followed was
typical of a season that would contort through any number
of narrative twists. The blue sky script perished immediately
in Malaysia and Bahrain. What had been a nine-point lead
over Raikkonen after the first race was now a five-point
deficit after three.
Hamilton's confidence evaporated. He talked of trying too
hard. At a dinner in Brazil last week a McLaren executive
opened a window into Hamilton's churning psyche in April.
He believed the trauma of the championship failure five months
earlier had cut deeper than any imagined. He could not offer
a definitive account, but felt the matter had not been resolved.
Hamilton was knee deep in his first crisis in F1. He was
the man on whom responsibility rested. His team-mate, Kovalainen,
was new to McLaren. Hamilton was growing up on the front
line. His challenge then was not the championship but to
rediscover himself. We got him back in Monaco.
Reputations are forged in the rain. Hamilton raced in Senna's
orbit that day; peerless. It was a display to end all debate
about his credentials as a grand prix man. Or it should have
been.
Hamilton polarises opinion. When he shunted himself and
Raikkonen out of the race in the Canadian pits Hamilton thought
he had simply made a mistake. He hadn't. He had folded in
battle, according to the anti-Hamilton lobby. Questions about
his temperament were raised. It is the reductio absurdum
of F1 that Hamilton cracks under the cosh, but on his detractors
raged.
He erred for sure. It was not pressure that did for him
but youth. Enthusiasm for the fight was his failing, not
a vulnerable psyche. A susceptibility to pressure inhibits
performance. Hamilton wasn't shrinking in the Canadian pit
lane, he was surging. Hamilton was back in the stocks on
the eve of his home grand prix after two pointless finishes.
The best story to drop in British sport for years was rapidly
turning rank. This was it, a career litmus test with the
potential to break him. If ever a bloke was under pressure
it was Hamilton at Silverstone. His answer was emphatic,
the critics smoked, as they were in Sao Paulo. Hamilton is
a winner. Get used to it.
Massa was magnanimous in defeat. It cannot have been easy
to have had a lifetime's achievement yanked from his grasp
in such circumstances. He was three corners into his lap
of honour when he was told his dream was over.
A year ago Hamilton's world had spun similarly off its axis.
He didn't deserve to sink as he did. A new chapter opens
with his championship success. The way he took his chance
reinforced his credentials as an athlete of singular standing.
No Muhammad Ali? Flavio Briatore might wish to reconsider.
This was Hamilton's rumble in the jungle, a timeless moment
in the history of sport. |