As the curtain came down on another Schumacher/Ferrari-dominated Formula One season, one is left with the lingering feeling that the action on the track has, yet again, been eclipsed by the more intricate and skilful high-speed manoeuvring in the boardrooms of the teams, and Formula One management.
In fact, one of the great things about F1 is its ability to appeal to a number of different audiences simultaneously. On the one hand we have the hardcore petrol heads who actually care about the racing. These are the men whose knowledge of the sport borders on the intimate, who lap up the most minute details of construction and engineering and who, given a chance, could probably strip a Ferrari to its component parts and reassemble them in half-an- hour - blindfolded of course.
But you don’t have to be an engineering obsessive to appreciate F1. The series is one of the few in sport which appears to be in such a consistent state of turmoil and uncertainty, that there is huge if ultimately voyeuristic pleasure to be taken in simply watching it trying to eat itself, morsel by juicy morsel.
Formula One is never dull except when a race is underway. The bits around the races are filled with gossip, intrigue, contractual disputes and broken dreams. It is the stuff of soap opera, and even those writers who would struggle to script a minute’s silence would be hard-pushed not to make a success of a storyline which echoed the real-life events around one of world sports’ gold standard series.
In recent weeks we have shed tears of bitterness over the loss of the British Grand Prix - and then sobbed in relief at its apparent reprieve.
We’ve held our breath as we’ve shared the anxiety of minor team owners as they’ve struggled to put together the deals that will see them on the grid next season…and exhaled in unison when the deal has been done.
We’ve been torn between David Richards and Jensen Button in the battle of the BAR contract and marvelled at the increasing use of exotic stages on which these dramas are played out.
And all this ignores the fact that F1 is a billion-dollar industry which employs huge numbers of people who support the world’s most fearless, fit and skilful drivers and develop and apply leading-edge automotive technologies which will, in some cases, become commonplace.
Formula One is a giant among world sports yet it appears that it is once again under threat from within.
A group of leading manufacturers, led it appears by the iconic Ferrari team, says it plans to break away from F1 and launch a new series under the Grand Prix World Championship banner in 2008. Until then the teams are contracted to Formula One Management under the terms of the Concorde Agreement, which glues the disparate elements of the sport together.
GRWC is not new. It has been around for some years now and has been widely considered little more than a pressure group, which springs to life whenever the manufacturers feel that Bernie Ecclestone needs a little direction.
The group, and the idea behind it, is not even unique in sport. In football the G14 group of Europe’s most powerful clubs plays a similar role, even if the clubs are reluctant to acknowledge it in public. In their case, the threat of a breakaway European league has been used for the past seven years or so to re-adjust UEFA’s thinking on critical issues.
When these groups meet you can here sabres rattling miles away. So what’s different this time around?
GPWC has, it is reported, hired consultants to start work on formulating its new series. That sounds like a clear signal of intent but hiring consultants is like buying a gun - it doesn’t mean it will ever be fired in anger.
And what would be achieved by starting from scratch? Why launch another product onto a crowded and confused market and risk diluting income streams? If an example is required there’s no need to look further than the CART/IRL fiasco in the United States.
With the exception of the real stalwarts, teams come and go. But Formula One has pedigree and heritage, something that you can’t buy and can’t invent. A new series would have to be sold on the strength of affection for the brands of the teams involved and, with the exception of Ferrari, it could prove a tough challenge.
It is unlikely that the market can sustain two high-level global open wheel racing series and dilution of audience and interest will see sponsorship and television income fall for both. There is a real risk that the size of the cake will reduce and that there will be no winners.
All of which tends to suggest that some time between now and 2008 a deal will be done, that the teams will be given a greater share of the revenues and a new Concorde Agreement will be arrived at. Don’t give up on a good thing is usually sound advice and sometimes it’s important to reassess how good something really is before it’s ditched or damaged.
By making it’s move now, GPWC has signalled its intention but, four years out from the first race of a new series, it has left plenty of time to reach a new deal that really works for all parties.
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It’s generally acknowledged that excellent planning is the key to success in most areas of endeavour and nobody appreciates that more than Nick Bitel, CEO of the London Marathon.
But even an experienced hand like Bitel sometimes forgets to cross every T and dot every single I.
At this week’s inaugural International Sports Security Summit, he recalled his experience at the race that closely followed the death of The Queen Mother.
As a mark of respect, the runners halted their pre-race preparations for a Minute’s Silence. As the boss man, it fell to Bitel to organise it. Using a hand-held microphone he announced the tribute and then, joined by 33,000 runners and several million live television viewers, he stood, head bowed, in silent remembrance.
And this is where detail counts.
While concentrating on everything else that had to be accomplished on that hectic day, Bitel had quite forgotten to switch off his mobile phone. And, following the logic that if something can go wrong it most certainly will during the most sombre and reverential of moments, his phone rang. Then, microphone in his hand, transmitted the ring to the participants and, via the BBC, to the watching nation.
Now that’s kind of embarrassing on its own. But things were made immeasurably worse by Bitel’s choice of ring tone. For the tune the nation heard as they reflected on the death of the hugely popular Royal Matriarch was none other that Monty Python’s ‘Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life’.
You couldn’t make it up!
