Rush to Glory: FORMULA 1 Racing's Greatest Rivalry

by Tom Rubython

  Because of the changing conditions, the arrow was up from lap 25, and the mechanics waited on full alert with four new tires and the jacks primed and ready to lift the car. Mayer said, “Only James knew the true state of his tires. We didn’t because we couldn’t.”

  Although Caldwell and Mayer felt Hunt should decide when to stop, Hunt thought the opposite and began gesticulating furiously each time he passed the McLaren pit.

  Inevitably, Hunt’s front left tire wore through the canvas and began leaking air, slowly deflating. But still Hunt stayed out. A tire change pit stop would have cost at least 35 seconds, and Lauda would win the title by default if Hunt finished fourth or lower.

  The call for a tire change could have been made much earlier by the pit crew, but it was now too late.

  It was a very tricky situation for team principal Mayer and team manager Caldwell. Whatever they did, it could be the wrong decision. It seemed better not to tempt fate, so they didn’t make a decision at all.

  Hunt said afterwards: “The team had all the information about the rate of tire wear. They’d seen what happened to other cars, and they should have told me what to do. Instead, in response to my frantic requests for information, they hung out the arrow like a huge bloody question mark.”

  But fate was to prove kind to James Hunt that day, although he didn’t realize it at the time. On lap 68, as he came off the last corner, his left hand front tire blew out the rubber that had finally worn through. It was the perfect position to have a blowout, and Hunt simply turned his car into the pit lane, controlling it masterfully.

  The decision had been made for them. The McLaren team mechanics, who had been anxiously waiting lap after lap, were ready. When he stopped, Caldwell and a mechanic didn’t bother with a jack—they physically lifted up the car for the tire change. Caldwell played it safe and put four new wet tires on the car instead of slicks. The four new tires went on in 27 seconds, and Hunt spun his wheels and got back in the race. As Hunt drove down the pit lane, the Ferrari mechanics went wild, believing he had lost the race. They waved their arms and cheered with undignified pleasure.

  During his stop, Clay Regazzoni passed Hunt to take second, Alan Jones passed to take third, and Depailler passed to be fourth. But Regazzoni and Jones were on old worn tires, and Depailler soon went past both of them to be second.

  In his head Hunt knew his pit stop had been too long, and he thought he had lost the championship. Now he would need a miracle to get the third place he needed. A red mist descended, and on fresh tires and with nothing to lose, he drove for his life. From a man pacing himself to the finish, Hunt was now racing to win. He gave it everything he could: “I went out in midfield, but of course everyone was on different laps. It was one of those confusing races. I had flown round the track at huge speeds as one would, as I was on a set of fresh wets and everybody else was on bald wets. And the track was dry, so even those who had changed a few laps earlier were a lot slower because they were already overheating. The only thing I could do was shut my eyes and floor it, and pass as many cars as I could.”

  Under his helmet, he was silently cursing his tires, his team, his general luck, and, most of all, the weather.

  The McLaren pit board told him he had rejoined in sixth place. He needed to make up three places in eight laps. He flung caution to the wind and passed Regazzoni’s Ferrari and Jones’s Surtees-Ford easily.

  As neither had changed tires, they were easy meat for him, just as they had been for Depailler. He swept down the short hill at the back of the pits and simply drove round the outside of both of them on the tight left-hander, the only slow corner on the track. Hunt thought he was fourth but didn’t realize that McLaren lap scorers had made a mistake: Hunt had been fifth when he left the pits. He was now third but didn’t know it. He then went after Depailler as fast as he could.

  The tension in the pits heightened, as the other teams were well aware he was third. To them it seemed impossible that Hunt could have changed his tires and been back in title contention again. McLaren finally worked it out, and on the penultimate lap, the mechanics hoisted the P3 sign over the pit counter. The last lap was a nail-biter for both men. As the checkered flag dropped, Mayer was certain that Hunt had finished third and was the new world champion, but Caldwell still wasn’t so sure. In the cockpit, Hunt had no idea.

  As the checkered flag came out, three cars flashed past—Andretti, Depailler, and Hunt. Although Depailler and Hunt were both a lap down after their pit stops, it all added to the drama, as at the end Hunt was 100 meters (328 feet) behind the Frenchman’s Tyrrell-Ford. There was no doubt as to the winner. Andretti had made it through on one set of tires to win; he had preserved his tires perfectly and proven what a fine driver he was.

  Hunt was livid as he drove the slowing-down lap, believing he was fourth and that he had lost the championship by one point. He was furious that Mayer and Caldwell hadn’t pulled him in for an earlier pit stop for new tires. He held them entirely responsible for losing the championship.

  Hunt came down the pit lane blipping the throttle, furious and ready to vent that fury. He climbed out of the car and made a grab for Mayer, planning to punch him out for his stupidity.

  Caldwell could see Hunt was angry, and so he disappeared back to the garage. By this time he was exhausted by the drama and fed up with Hunt and thought: I’m not putting up with this crap. Why should I get abused? In truth, Caldwell wasn’t sure whether Hunt had finished third or fourth and couldn’t bear the tension. He would wait for others to clarify it.

  With Caldwell absent, Hunt vented on Mayer. Although Mayer could hear Hunt, Hunt still had his helmet on and his ears were blocked, so he couldn’t hear Mayer. Knowing Hunt couldn’t hear, Mayer made three-finger gestures at his driver and smiled. Confused by the sight of a team owner who didn’t look like he’d just lost the championship, suddenly it dawned on Hunt that he might be champion after all. Mayer stood there shouting, “You’re world champion” over and over again.

  Behind him, Colin Chapman and the Lotus mechanics were climbing over the pit wall onto the track to congratulate Andretti, who had snatched the lead 10 laps from the end to win the race that he had started from pole position. It was the team’s first and only win that season.

  A confused Hunt held back any celebrations until it dawned on him that he had indeed finished third and was world champion. As Mayer told him what had happened, Hunt said, “I want proof.” Hunt would not allow himself to believe it until he had seen the lap charts and had confirmation from the officials that there were no protests on hand.

  By this time, Hunt was engulfed by well-wishers, and no one could see him or his car as people pressed congratulations. But all he wanted was official confirmation that he was third, and he kept shouting, “I want proof; I want proof.” His supporters lifted him onto their shoulders but then, in the chaos, promptly dropped him. As Hunt picked himself up from the floor, he demanded a drink and glared at Mayer while he drank it.

  Hunt was sick with worry after all the disappointments, protests, changes, and disqualifications during the season. He said afterwards: “I was absolutely determined not to think that I was world champion and then get disappointed, because there were 300 good reasons why something should have gone wrong. It was only really when I checked the laps and when the organizers said I was third—and there were no protests in the wind—that I allowed myself to start half-believing it. ”

  In fact, later recalling standing on the podium beside Andretti, he said, “I still didn’t feel that confident when they put me up on third place on the rostrum, because I wasn’t sure I wasn’t going to be dragged off there at the last minute, so the championship win came to me slowly.”

  Long afterwards, while reminiscing with journalist Nigel Roebuck, Hunt said, “The thing was that the pit signals I got were not consistent. Suddenly it said fourth, which wasn’t right because I had passed someone for third. But with their track record for handling things in a crisis and a panic, I w
asn’t prepared to believe them because I had had too many disappointments already that year with things happening after the race. So I basically didn’t accept that I was world champion, because everything happened so quickly.”

  As he got off the podium, Hunt went to the pressroom to chat with the print journalists. Later, as it was getting dark, he said, “When I came out it was pitch black, to see that everybody had gone, organizers and everything; everybody had had enough. When I realized everybody had gone, I realized nobody was going to take it away from me because there was nobody there, nobody was interested. So then I believed it. I thought I must be world champion.”

  Niki Lauda had no idea what the outcome was until, while waiting for his flight home, he looked at a television at the airport. It confirmed he had lost the world championship. When he saw the result, Forghieri rushed to an airport telephone to phone the Ferrari factory in Maranello. He was put through to Enzo Ferrari. Ferrari asked to speak to Lauda directly. They exchanged a few words, and Lauda told him that it would have been “madness to go on.” Lauda described Ferrari’s attitude as “heartless.” He said Ferrari did not even ask him how he was. With that, Lauda put down the phone and gathered up his wife and rushed for the plane.

  For Alastair Caldwell, it was a bittersweet ending to a magnificent season. He was furious with Hunt for what had happened in the closing laps. He was adamant it would not have happened had he obeyed instructions. Caldwell never understood why an intelligent driver like Hunt disobeyed him to his obvious disadvantage. He didn’t discuss it with Hunt at the time. With the championship won, it seemed churlish. Ten years afterwards, they had a short conversation in which Hunt dismissed his concerns.

  Caldwell later unloaded his frustrations on Christopher Hilton, a patient journalist who liked to listen and who enjoyed a good relationship with Caldwell, saying: “I was irritated, because in books and the media, James said we didn’t bring him in for new tires when we should have done, that we were idiots because we didn’t run the car properly—we always gave him the wrong pit board and so on. In fact, we gave him exactly the right information all the time. We could never have stopped the car for tires and won the world championship, so it was up to him—and we told him that all the time.

  “My opinion is that we handled the race perfectly. There was nothing else we could have done.

  “Regazzoni and Jones did the same thing as he’d done and stayed out, and both wore their tires to the air. They came to a walking pace because of that, and James was able to pass them.”

  Afterwards, Hunt disagreed entirely with Caldwell: “I knew from well before half-distance that there were going to be tire problems later on, and I started asking the McLaren pit as best as I could without a wireless. I had seen plenty of people going in and out of the pits changing tires, so they had all the information, and in a situation like that, you watch the other cars and see how quick they are going on fresh rubber. They had all that information, and I didn’t have any. As it was, their response to my frantic request, which they did understand, was to hang out a huge question mark and go: ‘What do we do?’ So the only thing I could do then was to stay out, and it very nearly cost me the championship because, when I did come in, I already had a blown front but I also had a slow puncture. They couldn’t get the jacks under it. It was a huge panic to get me a new set of tires.”

  In the end it didn’t matter. Somehow, after all the drama, Hunt had won it and he wanted to get back to the Tokyo Hilton to really celebrate. But the narrow roads around the foot of Mount Fuji, some 60 miles from Tokyo, meant that the traffic was jammed solid after the race, so the 300-odd members of the Formula One circus stayed put at the track and began the celebrations with Hunt in a room rented by Marlboro.

  John Hogan was exhausted by what he had witnessed. He couldn’t believe the lad he had met barely five years earlier had become world champion. Hogan’s judgment about Hunt had been finally vindicated.

  Hunt’s win had meant more exposure for the Marlboro brand than they ever could have dreamed. It was Marlboro’s most successful marketing campaign ever, and Hunt was responsible for it all. Marlboro bosses phoning to congratulate him from Lausanne in Switzerland told Hogan that he was not to stint on the celebrations. Hogan would pick up the bills for all the parties, which started that night in Fuji and continued on into Tokyo.

  But Hogan didn’t party as hard as he might have. He was just glad it was over. He had had a very difficult first season with Hunt. As he later admitted: “It was a bit like having a dog; you think you have just trained it and it’s being good, and then it goes and craps on someone else’s living room carpet. And that’s what he did all the time. Every race there was something.”

  But it had all come good in the end.

  CHAPTER 30

  A New British Champion

  Two Months of Celebrations

  November to December 1976

  Niki Lauda caught an earlier flight back to Europe from Tokyo and was very glad he did. For as soon as the checkered flag had dropped, it was all about James Hunt. By finishing third, Hunt had won the world championship by a single point.

  After leading the world championship all season until the final race, Niki Lauda left Tokyo with nothing at all. For him there lay ahead some delicate operations and months of recuperation. His aim was to get all the surgical work done and then rest up to the maximum to be fit and ready for 1977.

  But the scenario for James Hunt was wholly different. Like all new world champions, he was thrust into a cauldron of celebration and sponsor backslapping. Now that he was champion, suddenly everyone wanted a piece of James Hunt.

  The other winner that day was John Hogan, Marlboro’s head of motor sport. The championship win was set to deliver Marlboro huge value. Hogan would have been a winner no matter what the outcome in Mount Fuji that day. Obviously he preferred Hunt and his own Marlboro-sponsored McLaren team to win, but if not, it would not have been a complete disaster. Niki Lauda was also a Marlboro-sponsored driver.

  Thanks to Hunt’s success, sales of Marlboro brand cigarettes were taking off across Europe and the rest of the world. Signing Hunt had proved a coup for Hogan, and it was to make his career.

  The sponsorship was incredibly successful; and when Hunt won, he straightaway lit up a Marlboro in the pit lane. It really couldn’t get much better—especially for a marketing man like Hogan. For a brief moment, Hunt was the Marlboro man: the perfect example of what smoking could do for you.

  As he stood in the pit lane that afternoon in Japan, Hogan knew that reality would go out of the window for the next few days. The parties came first. Hunt led the celebrations from the front, and Hogan paid for everything. Hogan figured the more celebrating and the more publicity generated, the better.

  Barry Sheene, the motorcycle world champion, was also in on the act, and together the two world champions partied like never before. Girls were falling at their feet, and it was the start of a magical 48 hours for both men, who had sensibly left their girlfriends at home.

  It all started as dusk fell at the Fuji Lodge, a hotel adjacent to the circuit. Hogan had booked the hotel’s biggest function room to get the party started, and although the celebration was principally for the McLaren team and Marlboro guests, everyone in the paddock was invited. There was unlimited liquor, and Hogan made sure that the tables were laden with food.

  The festivities went on late into the night, then Hogan organized a fleet of cars for everyone to get back to the Tokyo Hilton, where he had booked another huge room for another huge party. Hunt grabbed four hours of sleep, but for the next eight hours, people came and went and partied through to the next day. At around 5 p.m. Hunt and the Marlboro and McLaren executives trooped off to the British embassy. Hunt could hardly stand up, and Hogan just prayed they would get through it. Hunt was unsuitably dressed to enter the British embassy and to be greeted by the ambassador, but the normal protocol was waived for the new British world champion.

  Then it was bac
k to another room at the Tokyo Hilton for a very formal Marlboro cocktail party, where all the top executives and staff of the cigarette company’s Asian subsidiaries had gathered to congratulate their champion, who looked as though he had just come in from a long day at the beach. Looking back 36 years later, Hogan recalls: “We drank for two days solid.” And that is about the extent of his recollection.

  Late on Monday evening they all got onboard Japanese Airlines Flight 421 from Tokyo to London. The party continued on the plane, even though everyone was exhausted and urgently needed sleep.

  Hunt had been booked into economy, but the airline upgraded him to first class, where he found his boss, Teddy Mayer, in the departure lounge. Mayer sniffed when he saw his driver and gave the impression he didn’t much like traveling with the hired help. Nor was he impressed with the commotion Hunt was causing in the first class lounge.

  Hunt was playing with a toy gorilla that Alastair Caldwell had given to him to celebrate the championship. The gorilla was called “Smiler” and had cymbals attached to its paws, which Hunt kept bashing together.

  Mayer squirmed when Hunt got into a stand-up row with Pierre Ugeux, the new president of FIA, who was also in the first class lounge. Ugeux was concerned that Hunt wouldn’t attend the annual FIA prize ceremony in Paris to collect his world championship trophy. Hunt told Ugeux that he would not. Ugeux knew Hunt was upset by CSI rulings at Brands Hatch and Monza but appealed to his better nature to put the past behind him. In the end, Hunt said he would consider it. Mayer was somewhat relieved when the flight was called.