Forty years on, Piercarlo still has vivid memories of his duel with the French hussar: ‘I recall with great feeling the elation and disappointment of that race and the great esteem I had for Didier. That year I won the European title, but the challenge of Monte Carlo with Didier remained an open account. I remember him with great affection…’
Just under 40 minutes after the race had started, Didier duly took the chequered flag. De Chaunac and the team were ecstatic. Here, under the critical eyes of the Formula 1 fraternity, they had achieved quite a feat: Didier, Tico, Hugues and the rest of the guys – chancers and opportunists – had broken the bank at Monte Carlo. With his improved results at Pau and Vallelunga, in the short space of a few weeks, Didier had contrived to give his career a not unwelcome shot in the arm. The icing on the cake would be to take the crown of European Formula 2 champion.
Ten
Stepping up
Five races in as many weeks, midsummer of ’77 and Didier’s services were much in demand. The Monte Carlo heist was followed a week later with a visit to Pau on the 30th of the month, another stab at Le Mans on 12 June and races at Tuscany’s Mugello circuit and back to Rouen on 19 and 26 June respectively. An invitation to race in Canada’s Formula Atlantic series in August suggested that Didier was finally forging a reputation as an international driver too.
However, disappointment awaited at the Le Mans 24-hour race. Along with co-drivers Arnoux and Guy Frequelin, Didier managed to qualify the Alpine-Renault in fifth place, albeit some way off the strongly fancied first-string Renaults, which, after practice, had monopolised the front of the grid. Not that Renault were expecting too much in the way of results from the second-string car whose presence in the race was purely for tactical reasons. In their anxiety to win the race in the face of stiff completion from Porsche, Renault had decided to deploy the services of a ‘spoiler’ car whose mission it was to simply disrupt the mighty Germans. The blue and white Bendix-sponsored car was therefore handily placed behind the works Renaults of Bell/Jabouille, Laffite/Depailler and Tambay/Jassaud and in front of a gaggle of works Porsches.
As the leaders entered the fearsome three-and-a-half-mile-long Mulsanne straight on their warm-up lap, car number 16 was, however, already in trouble. Didier was disturbed to note his temperature gauges going haywire. Due to a broken gas pump connector, the car had sprung a fuel leak. For sponsors Bendix, well-known manufacturers of petrol pumps, it was hardly the greatest piece of PR. The back end of the car was soon consumed with flames. Didier continued down the straight until reaching a fire point, whereupon he was already undoing his seatbelts in preparation for an emergency exit before the car had come to a halt. Le Mans 1977 – over before it had begun.
A strong showing at the world’s most famous motor race would have undoubtedly done Didier’s reputation a power of good. From highs at Monaco to lows at Le Mans, his attention turned back to the F2 championship. With Giacomelli and Cheever proving fast but unreliable, Arnoux’s title claims were consolidating by the race. Could he beat the highly rated man from Grenoble? With Rene holding a solid lead, more to the point, would he be allowed to even try?
Chasing his team-mate hard in the opening laps at Nogaro in mid-July, Didier could smell a chance to overturn the formbook, but an engine failure put paid to his hopes. Rene went on to win as he liked. Six, if not nine potential points lost; the story of Didier’s season.
When the circus arrived in Portugal in early autumn, the title chase had narrowed down to a straight fight between Arnoux and the erratic but fast American-Italian teenager Eddie Cheever. At this stage in the season Didier trailed his team-mate by 20 points, a deficit that was not only down to the Martini team leader’s undoubted speed; bad luck had also played a part as had Didier’s status as second driver. If the young pilot felt frustrated, he hid his emotions well. Besides, rumours were starting to swirl around the F1 grapevine …
François Guiter had been in contact with his friends at the Tyrrell Formula 1 team. One year into his contract, Swedish superstar Ronnie Peterson had decided to leave the team to re-join Lotus. A second driver would be required in 1978 to partner Patrick Depailler. Elf had been very good to Ken Tyrrell over the years, and with petrol company cash still accounting for a substantial part of the team’s budget, French input carried plenty of weight. Tyrrell had a vacancy. Monsieur Guiter knew just the right candidate.
Didier stood on the verge of his dream. All Guiter needed to do was persuade the eponymous team owner to his way of thinking, a task easier said than done.
Cancellations to races in Austria and Belgium led to a seven-week break before the penultimate race in Portugal. Time on their hands, Rene and Didier tested the MK22 vigorously. The hard work would pay off, spectacularly so.
An opportunity arose in mid-August to race in Canada at the invitation of Fred Opert. A halfway house between F2 and F3, Formula Atlantic was a tough, uncompromising series run using largely Ralt, Chevron and March chassis, all major players in F2. The calibre of driving talent was high. Stars of the series such as Price Cobb, Howdy Holmes and Bill Brack would not have disgraced themselves in F1 and beating the ‘foreigners’ certainly added spice to the occasion. Attracted by the generous start and prize money purses, European raiding parties had become a common sight by the mid-seventies: Depailler, Jones, Jarier and Laffite were among a host of Formula 1 stars to cross the Atlantic. By attracting F1 drivers – French if possible – to Quebec’s Trois-Rivières circuit, entrants like Opert hoped to boost the series’ broad appeal as well as its gate money.
For the F1 crowd it was an adventure and a challenge. The Trois-Rivières race usually took place in August when Quebec City would be basking in temperatures of between 20 and 24 degrees. Added to which the F1 guys were always treated like kings. José had twice taken part in the race, finishing fourth in ’75, part of an F1 clean sweep, behind Brambilla (1st), Jarier (2nd) and Jassaud (3rd). He had also taken part in the famous ’76 event in which an unknown local boy called Gilles Villeneuve humiliated the soon-to-be-crowned F1 world champion, James Hunt, with Alan Jones also well beaten.
Anxious to catch a flight home that day, Jones had accepted a lift to the airport from José. Big mistake. The Australian had an ever-diminishing window of time to make the flight. José put his foot down …
‘Alan shit himself. He was a nervous wreck by the time we got to the airport,’ recalls Opert, a husky-voiced New Yorker who was still preparing cars from his garage well into his seventies. ‘I saw them off, started up the auto, drove out the airport, put my foot on the brakes and nothing! No brakes! José had worn them completely out on the journey to the airport!’
Wherever José went, Didier was sure to follow. Fred arranged a drive at the St-Félicien circuit where Didier teamed up with fellow European F2 rival Keke Rosberg, an Opert regular. Six weeks remained before the resumption of F2 hostilities. With central France wilting under a customary hot holiday month, a detour to North America could turn out to be a rewarding experience from both a financial and personal perspective. Because if there was one thing the brother-cousins liked, it was adventure. He might have been a tough cookie, but Opert had a soft spot for French drivers.11 The American team manager had in fact first encountered José’s little cousin the previous year in Nogaro during that fabulous Formula Renault campaign.
‘José was late to the circuit as he often was in those days,’ recalls Fred, ‘so we asked Didier to set up the car, which he gladly did. I watched him closely. I instantly knew that he was a special talent. When José eventually turned up, he didn’t manage to beat Didier’s best time. I knew then this kid was good.’
In an unfamiliar car on an unfamiliar circuit, the young Frenchman’s lap of 39.526s proved good enough for sixth place on the starting grid, two places in front of Rosberg. Ahead lay 100 laps of this unusually short track. As expected, Gilles Villeneuve roared off into the distance right from the start. Didier wisely elected to stay out of trouble to collect $3,000 for seventh
place following a time penalty. It was at this meeting that he first encountered Villeneuve – by now very much the man to beat in Formula Atlantic. According to Gerald Donaldson’s biography, it was Didier who first alerted the Canadian to Ferrari’s interest in him, gossip picked up from the European grapevine. Overall it had been an interesting break, one Didier would repeat the following year at Trois-Rivières. Focus now shifted to F2 and the upcoming race at Estoril.
In a rare visit away from his Magny stronghold, Tico Martini joined his boys on the Atlantic coast as summer finally gave way to autumn. Provided he finished ahead of Cheever, Arnoux could wrap up the title this weekend and Tico wanted to be on hand to witness the coronation of a man who seemed to have supplanted Didier in his affections. Rene had already been engaged for Martini’s latest venture, what would prove to be an ill-fated foray into F1 in 1978 with the Martini-Ford, a fact that could not have escaped Didier’s notice.
Much fun was had at the hotel just a short hop from the Estoril circuit; golf, swimming, tennis. As an accomplished swimmer and tennis player, Didier enjoyed himself thoroughly between practice sessions, as he always did.
Just as the season was winding down, the Elf driver stepped up his game. Perhaps it was the rumours about the Tyrrell F1 drive, or just an upturn in fortune, but it was a much more polished Didier who turned up in Portugal that weekend. The MK22 seemed to be handling superbly in what were dry, stifling conditions as western Portugal succumbed to an early autumn heatwave. His best lap of 1’33.05 – comfortably quicker than Giacomelli (1’33.46) and Arnoux (1’33.48) – secured Didier his first pole position of the season. Further back in the field a couple of names to conjure with: old Formula Renault foe Marc Sourd (1’35.05) qualified 13th in a rare F2 appearance and current leader of Formula Renault Europe, Alain Prost (1’35.40) had once again catapulted himself into this higher category although on this occasion was well behind Michel Leclère (1’34.67) in the sister Kaushen-Renault. A driver from the past, another from the future …
At half-past three the next day, buffeted by one of the region’s characteristically fierce winds, Didier led the field of 20 round on to a warm but blustery starting grid. In a season in which so many drivers had won races (Arnoux, Cheever, Mass, Giacomelli, Leoni, Rosberg, Henton), he desperately wanted to chalk up a maiden win.
Six laps into the race the yellow and blue car had a racey Giacomelli for company. Two laps later, the Italian was off into the dirt and on his way back to the pits after miscalculating an attempted pass at one of the hairpins. Didier led from Rene. Thereafter the gap gradually increased; 3 seconds by lap 10; 20 seconds by lap 40. Mindful of finishing ahead of championship rival Cheever, there were no heroics from Arnoux. Just as well, because Didier had an air about him on this day, a resolve that looked unbreakable. While Rosberg and Cheever breathed down Rene’s neck lap after lap, Didier simply pulled further and further away, imperturbable, serene, in a race all his own.
It was champagne all around at the finish – a Martini-Elf 1-2; a long-awaited race win for their junior driver and the title of European Formula 2 champion for their senior driver. Quite a day (and night) on the Atlantic coast.
A podium in the final race of the season at a cold Donnington Park circuit somewhat lacking in atmosphere confirmed Didier in third place overall in the championship. Rene was champion, but the junior driver was ending the season as at least joint top dog in the Martini stable.
‘Pironi approached his first season of F2 with the coolness, resolution and professionalism we know him for,’ wrote motorsport journalist Jean-Louis Moncet for Sport-Auto when giving his assessment of this unforgettable season of Formula 2 racing, adding perceptively, ‘He certainly deserved better than 38 points, but he loyally assumed his role as second driver behind Arnoux when the Martini passed through a bad patch.’
It had not been an easy season, but Didier had demonstrated that he could mix it with the best of them. ‘His victory at Estoril shows that he has nothing to prove in F2,’ concluded Moncet.
Eleven
Under uncle Ken’s wing
Rumours that elevation to the F1 grid was a distinct possibility for Didier had been circulating throughout 1977. Certainly, the prospect of another season in F2 held little appeal. The time was ripe to take the last step up the motor racing ladder, one Arnoux had just taken courtesy of the Martini F1 project. In fact, Didier had been cautiously optimistic about his chances of joining the F1 grid ever since Jackie Stewart had taken him aside for a quiet word earlier in the year:
‘Don’t make any decisions about your future without first consulting me,’ cautioned the Scot. ‘There is an interesting possibility …’ Given that the Scottish legend was still a close confidant of his former employer Ken Tyrrell, Didier dared to hope. Sure enough, a phone call duly arrived from the woodcutter turned racing team owner.
‘If you come to England, could you come to see us for a few minutes?’ Didier did not hang around. Just one week after the Donington race had rounded off the F2 season, the young Parisian was flying out to London once again, this time en route to the Tyrrell racing headquarters in Ockham, Surrey.
News of Didier’s impending promotion to the world’s premier motor racing series was met with varying reactions from the French sporting media. The more cynically inclined detected the hand of Guiter at work. Had not Didier finished only third in F2, some way behind Arnoux? Did his season merit promotion? As impressive as the win in Estoril had been, it still represented the driver’s only win of the entire season. Was Guiter using his influence with Tyrrell to promote a favourite driver? Although there was an element of truth in such surmises, Tyrrell and especially Guiter had been keeping an eye on the dashing Parisian since that magical day at Pilot-Elf five years earlier. That recent Monte Carlo demonstration had merely aroused Ken’s interest again. Pironi seemed like an ideal fit: young, fast and just as importantly, very sponsor-friendly.
In his biography of Tyrrell, motorsport writer Maurice Hamilton relates how Didier arrived at the ‘yard’ early one morning to find it closed. According to Hamilton, a hungry French driver then went in search of breakfast. His quest eventually brought him to a typical roadside café where he ate a bacon sandwich.12
Back at the old woodyard, which now served as the workshop to the F1 team, Tyrrell promptly offered a two-year contract. ‘I accepted the contract without hesitation,’ Didier later recalled.
With Jabouille engaged in Renault’s fledgling F1 programme and Arnoux fulfilling the same role with Martini, Didier could count himself lucky to have landed a seat with an established stable, a former world championship-winning team at that. Thus, one gloomy November Friday in the heart of the Surrey countryside, the dashing Frenchman readily signed the standard nine-page contract before him. He had made it to F1. The £30,000 salary (approximately £160,000 in 2017 currency), though not unwelcome, felt more like a bonus. A further £70 was on offer for each championship point earned. Tyrrell also promised to pay ‘all reasonable accommodation expenses and the cost of economy air travel from London to the nearest convenient airport…’ It was hardly a king’s ransom, but it was a salary. Didier would later say it was the first time in his career that he had earned a proper salary.
Tyrrell in 1978 though was a team in transition. Ronnie Peterson, the team’s superstar Swedish driver, had left the team after a single season following a bruising year attempting to tame the team’s revolutionary six-wheeled car. There had also been changes in key personnel. Designer of the P34 six-wheeler Derek Gardiner had been replaced by Maurice Phillipe, who had taken on the task of effectively designing a conventional car from scratch. Ken’s team had seen better days. Certainly, the days of winning multiple Grands Prix and world championships with Jackie Stewart had passed.
Although in many ways Tyrrell was a quintessentially English team, its links with Elf ensured a certain Anglo-Gallic ambience pervaded. In Patrick Depailler, Didier teamed up with a driver he had known since the Lotus Seven da
ys back in ’64. One of F1’s nice guys, Patrick immediately took his fellow daredevil under his wing, which was just as well given comments made by Didier in an interview with Johnny Rives:
‘Patrick had warned me yet I was still surprised by the coldness of relations within the team,’ noted a driver perhaps missing the intimacy of the Magny-Cours extended family. ‘It’s a way of life for the English,’ observed a young man who must have been feeling more than a little homesick. Ken oversaw a professional team, but it was a very different environment from those of Martini and de Chaunac.
Didier’s Formula 1 career officially began at the Argentine Grand Prix on 15 January. Having never driven so much as a single lap in the Citibank-sponsored 008, this first F1 weekend would prove to be an exceptionally steep learning curve for the rookie. He had briefly driven the six-wheeler at Ricard, but Argentina would represent his first substantial acquaintance with a Tyrrell F1 car.
His objective was simple: to not embarrass himself apropos Patrick.
When both cars ended the first qualifying session propping up the field, the new boy was disappointed but philosophical. The real yardstick was not the Laudas and Andrettis who were engaged in a different race altogether, but rather the comparison between himself and his team leader:
‘What comforted me a little is that Patrick was no better placed than me. We were both on the last line after the first day of testing.’ Depailler then would prove to be a useful comparison. Paired with Peterson the previous season – many people’s idea of the fastest driver of the decade – Patrick had more than held his own. Ergo, if Didier could match his team-mate, he could probably match anyone.
Saturday though was another day altogether. While Patrick improved to tenth, Didier remained anchored to the foot of the grid. Modifications to his team-mate’s car were not replicated on his own: ‘When I was two seconds off Patrick’s times, everyone in the team was satisfied,’ reported a perplexed driver. ‘It seemed normal, and they did not plan to do anything on the car to fill the gap. Yet I knew that I could be in the same bracket as Patrick.’ For the junior partner perception mattered. ‘I'm perfectly capable of doing the same time as Patrick with the same car,’ insisted an indignant young driver. A spin into the fencing during second practice hardly helped his ranking. Formula 1 was proving an unforgiving mistress.
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