by Mark Webber
Sadly in 2014 we saw exactly how badly things can go wrong in such conditions when Jules Bianchi crashed at Suzuka during the Japanese Grand Prix. He lost control at Dunlop Corner and his car collided with a tractor crane removing a car that had crashed at the same spot a lap earlier. While some tragic accidents in motor sport can be attributed to sheer bad luck, others have contributing factors: the race start, the pressure to finish the race before sunset, worn-out intermediate tyres in increasing rain, and one of the toughest corners in the racing world. Scenarios like that have made the drivers take a strong stance and that’s why I was so vocal in Malaysia that day.
As things turned out, Sepang was good practice. The next race in Shanghai was also wet, and this time we made history of a quite different kind. To start with we qualified in a Red Bull Racing best-ever pole position for Sebastian and third for me. When it rained, we spent the first six laps behind the safety car and curiously enough Sebastian, who had punted me from behind in similar conditions two years earlier in Fuji, was lucky to escape undamaged when Sébastien Buemi’s Toro Rosso did the same to him. As the race unfolded it became obvious that in those conditions it was only ever going to be between the two of us. Sebastian stopped for tyres on lap 36 and I followed him in a lap later, after which the instruction came to hold station and run to the finish. We secured the first 1–2 finish in the team’s history and I can tell you it felt great to get the ‘real’ Red Bull team up onto that podium. It was an incredible day for the team and a great reward for the people who had shown faith in me and stood by me in those difficult close-season days. ‘Now I’ve just got one more step to go,’ I said after the race. My pace all weekend had been terrific. I knew I wasn’t a million miles away and that my day would come.
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In sport, momentum is everything. After that historic Red Bull 1–2 in Shanghai, JB and the Brawn team went on to win in Bahrain, Spain and Monaco. But while the juggernaut rolled on, we were building up a pretty decent head of steam in our own right. Sebastian claimed second spot in Bahrain, which was consolation for the team after Adrian Sutil compromised my weekend in Q1. The German driver thought I was on an ‘out’ lap, which his Force India was on at the time. He was penalised for baulking me, but the damage was done: starting 19th on the grid is no good anywhere and Bahrain was no different as I finished 11th.
In Barcelona I qualified fifth but a strong middle stint in the race saw me come through for third place and my fourth F1 podium. A landmark of sorts loomed when we headed for Monaco, and this one really was quite special for me. It was my 127th Grand Prix start, which meant I would be Australia’s longest-serving F1 driver: Sir Jack took part in 126 World Championship races, while our second World Champion, Alan Jones, started 116. The problem from my perspective was that they had won 14 and 12 World Championship races respectively; my 126 starts so far had not yielded the victory I was so hungry for. The hunger wasn’t satisfied on the beautiful Mediterranean coast, either. A single run in Q3 was a tactical error and meant I started eighth on the grid, but another good middle stint earned me fifth place.
In Turkey next time out I qualified fourth, with Sebastian on pole again, then equalled my best-ever F1 result with second behind Jenson. Again the second stint was the deciding factor, then I was defending well against Sebastian when we got the call to save the cars as I was the faster driver and we duly came home for a 2–3 finish.
Looking back now, there was a taste of things to come even at that 2009 race in Turkey. Sebastian was on pole but finished third; he made a mistake by running wide on the opening lap and letting Jenson into the lead; he was fuelled lighter and made three stops to my two. Seb came in after 15 laps; I set purple sectors galore (when you are the quickest driver in a session or race in a particular sector of the track, the timing screens show your time in purple) and came in on lap 17. When Seb pitted for a second time after 29 laps I pushed hard again before making my second and last stop after 43 laps. Seb was back for his own last stop after 48 laps and then closed the gap to me to just over a second before the telephone call came.
I had laid the foundation for my second place in that middle stint and all the signs were that he wasn’t too happy with how the race had panned out. That race brought a first test for the Red Bull Racing engineers when it came to having their two drivers on different strategies, and managing the driver reactions. On this particular occasion, Sebastian was furious that his strategy hadn’t worked and it was to become a trend. Whenever I was on a different strategy, especially when it had worked to my advantage, he would ask incredulously, ‘How is this possible? How is Mark ahead?’ or even, ‘How is Mark quicker?’ It seemed the thought of me simply being quicker was not one he could entertain! There always had to be another reason why. Over time I realised his meltdowns came when he thought he had done enough when in reality, he hadn’t. To my way of thinking, if you get done fair and square on the day you should take it on the chin, but Seb’s arrogance meant he simply couldn’t comprehend how it had gone wrong and would take it out on the team or, rather, want the team to do something about it.
Guillaume Rocquelin, aka Rocky, Seb’s engineer, was the only man in the team who would tell it to him straight. I’m sure some of Seb’s behaviour was down to his youthfulness, but the team’s executive management repeatedly allowed him to get away with it. No one was ever big enough to pull him into line, tell him that kind of behaviour wasn’t acceptable. He was treated like a favourite son, which meant he would throw his toys out of the pram from time to time when he didn’t get his own way. Even so, I couldn’t help but try to cut him a bit of slack because I got to know his family a little and I liked them. Despite the language barrier, you could tell they were decent people with a good set of values. Essentially he was a good kid at heart but the team allowed him to behave like a spoilt brat.
At the height of Red Bull Racing’s success our post-race debrief would involve up to 25 people plus another 10 or so back at the Milton Keynes factory linked up by video stream and radio. Everyone would listen as we gave individual breakdowns on how our race had gone before the race engineers and other departments contributed. The meeting could take between 90 minutes and two hours – often longer than the actual race! Seb may have become a four-time F1 title-winner but he was also a world champion at talking! His ability to recall and relate fine details post-race to key personnel was certainly a strength of his, although I did get the occasional kick under the table from some of the engineers as he could be patronising! The meeting would end with Christian and Adrian giving their take on the race, Adrian clearly with an engineering focus. What I loved about Adrian was his attitude. The race result was generally invisible to him; even if we had dominated with a 1–2 finish, fastest lap, pole position and fastest pit stop, he was still always pushing the team to improve and that’s why we were as good as we were.
Looking back on it now, neither Seb nor I knew at the time how significant Istanbul Park 2009 would be for our relationship within 12 months. For the moment we had a good rapport and enjoyed a professional relationship. The key ingredient was that we shared a common goal to lift the team’s performance and I thought the chemistry among us all was exceptional. In fact we were on a rocket-ship, and it was on the launching pad.
The rocket really started to lift off when we went to Silverstone and claimed Red Bull’s second 1–2 finish of the season. Seb did a good job in qualifying to take pole but I had an awkward moment with Kimi Räikkönen when I caught him on Hangar Straight as I was trying to commit to Stowe Corner. It cost me a front-row start as Rubens pipped me to second. Kimi and I went chest-to-chest in an alpha-male moment on the drivers’ parade lap the next day as he hadn’t found my comments about him perhaps having drunk too much vodka all that amusing! My race was jeopardised as well: I was bottled up behind Rubens for the whole first stint, only a good first stop letting me get ahead of the Brawn and set off in pursuit of Sebastian, but by then it was too late. I have to be honest, I was disap
pointed. It really grated on me that Seb had won the British GP because victories were now on the table and he had won what I considered to be my ‘other’ home race.
Still, it was a second Red Bull Racing 1–2, and this time it was in the dry and totally credible. Ann and I joined the team and celebrated wildly at Christian’s Oxfordshire home, where he and his long-term partner Beverley always threw a team barbecue after the British GP. One of the lasting memories of those annual get-togethers was the sight of Adrian tearing up the perfectly manicured lawns by performing donuts in one of his or Christian’s exotic cars, usually with a drink in hand. Adrian might be F1’s biggest geek but ply him with a few drinks, and you’ll see another side of him! He’s great fun when he’s off-duty.
On 11 July 2009 my Queanbeyan mate Brad Haddin scored a century for Australia in his maiden Ashes Test in Cardiff. I wasn’t there: I had urgent business of my own in Germany. But I did follow the boys’ progress on the television in my hotel room, and maybe I drew some inspiration from what they were doing in the baggy green caps of Australia, because that day I went out and claimed my first pole position in Formula 1 at the Nürburgring, the home of that year’s German Grand Prix.
The track lies adjacent to the famous 22-kilometre long Nordschleife or ‘Green Hell’, as Jackie Stewart nicknamed it. Built in the 1920s, the Nordschleife is still to this day arguably the most dangerous and treacherous track in the world and was the scene of Niki Lauda’s horrific fiery crash in 1976. The modern Nürburgring may not share the same place in history as the original, but it has been the setting for some classic races. It’s a nice undulating track tucked into the Eifel Mountains where the weather often plays a deciding part in the outcome. I always enjoyed racing there.
That Nürburgring weekend was the first time I out-qualified Sebastian Vettel as my Red Bull Racing teammate, and it’s difficult to overstate how significant that was in itself. Ahead of that weekend I had done some of my best physical training sessions, just me and my road bike on the hills in the south of France. Ann and I had also paid a visit to Dublin for a few days with Mum and Dad and my auntie Pam and uncle Nigel, who were on their first European trip. In the end I decided to go home early because there was no gym in our hotel and the weather was dreadful. Before I left I thought it was essential to try some of Dublin’s famous black velvet – a pint or two of Guinness! There were some workers on the local road who recognised me and yelled out that I was going to win the next race …
It was critical for me to take some of the wind out of Sebastian’s sails, not only in terms of the championship but in the context of the team we both drove for. Once a driver starts to gain a bit of momentum, it’s only natural that other people will gravitate towards him, so it was important to try to get my own winning campaign underway. It wasn’t until Q3 that the top 10 got to see a dry track for the first time in what seemed quite a while. It all came down to my last run: I was the first of the front-runners to post my final flying lap and two purple sectors put me on top with a 1:32.320. Both Brawns and Sebastian had still to go: my teammate went second-fastest, was demoted by both Jenson and Rubens, but none of them could beat my time. After the sheer elation had passed, I commented that I would really like a nice, boring GP next day to cash in on my maiden F1 pole position.
Race day dawned, and it was wet. It rained before seven in the morning but had dried by 11. Rain was forecast for later in the race but a dry start would be something. Within seconds of the start I was in a spot of bother: where the hell was Rubens? The little Brazilian had got the jump on me off the line and as I tried to fight back I lost sight of him momentarily. It wasn’t until I hit him that I realised where he was. It looked quite dramatic from the outside: the two cars seemed to cannon off each other like billiard balls. I’ve spoken to Rubens about it and he said he was adjusting something on his steering-wheel. I’ve looked at the on-board camera footage and he wasn’t, but he said he was about to and was distracted for a split second. The contact was minimal, both cars were undamaged: I wasn’t squeezing him, it was in the middle of the track.
My troubles weren’t over: Lewis had also made a quick getaway in his McLaren, good enough for him to attempt a pretty daring move on me into the first corner. My front wing clipped his left rear tyre and the inevitable happened: he got a puncture. While the World Champion dealt with that little problem Rubens and I started putting some distance between us and the rest of the field. I was comfortable enough being behind, as I knew he was on a lighter load and was sure to be three-stopping. Then the call came: the race stewards had studied the start, decided they didn’t like the dramatic coming-together they had seen, and given me a drive-through penalty for the offence of ‘causing an avoidable collision’.
That was it: all the hard work that went into getting that pole position counted for nothing, the first five seconds of the race had squandered any advantage I had, and now the law-makers were on my back as well. All I could think was, ‘It’s just not meant to be.’
So I came in to serve my sentence, as it were, on lap 15, but first I made sure I put a gap on Heikki Kovalainen, who was doing a useful job of bottling up the likes of Jenson and Sebastian behind his McLaren. Once I got back out there I had Ciaron Pilbeam, my race engineer, trying to reassure me and tell me I could still win this thing. My first scheduled stop arrived on lap 19 and I rejoined eighth, which quickly became second again as the others went in and out of pit lane. When Rubens made his second stop that put me in the lead.
Two threats remained, one called rain, the other Vettel. The rain never came; Sebastian led after my second stop on lap 43 but still had his own stop to come and I was back in front. I was now closing out the win, everything was absolutely under control, but I remember asking Ciaron to confirm that I was starting my last lap. I wanted to triple-check as Roger, who doubled as my pit-board man for a couple of years, was liable to be the odd lap out because he sometimes forgot to hang out my board! It usually happened when I was racing in a pack and he was excited. I could see him looking at me over the wall, cheering me on, but he didn’t have the pit board, which made me laugh! But this time the laps had been counted correctly and after 130 races, and 232 days after breaking my leg on a Tasmanian bush road, I was a Grand Prix winner.
Maybe there’s something in what they say about the luck of the Irish after all because those blokes in Dublin had been right! The journey had led me down several blind alleys, I had hit several unexpected obstacles, yet here I was: on the top step of the podium at one of the most famous racing circuits in the world, the famous Nürburgring.
I hadn’t won a race in a long, long time, and finally winning a Grand Prix was very different from my previous visit to the top step. People’s perceptions of me instantly changed: Mark Webber, race-winner in F1 … and the most important thing of all for me was that I absolutely deserved to win. The race may have been a mirror image of the stop–start career that preceded it, but we were always going to win on that day. It meant so much to me that it was a genuine victory, not one of those races handed to you by sheer force of circumstance.
There were two people with me that day that I really wanted to hug. One was my dad, who had guided me away from Australia and into single-seater racing in the first place and backed me every step of the way. He injected a comical note of his own into the proceedings – one of his front teeth had fallen out that very morning and he couldn’t crack a decent smile for the rest of the day! But he well remembers that first win: ‘Something I had never told Mark was that in my many years of following motor racing I had formed a great admiration for a New Zealand driver called Chris Amon. The general consensus about Chris was that he was a very talented but unlucky driver. I watched him quite a bit: he contested 96 Grands Prix but never won one. He was second three times, third eight times, but never first. Well, at one stage I thought, “Mark’s going to be a bit like Chris Amon, all that talent, but never quite in the right place at the right time – he’s just never going to jag o
ne.” But finally he did, I was on the pit wall – minus a front tooth – and it was a fantastic day.’
The other person I had to hug was Ann: her plan had got me here, her support had kept me going through all the ups and downs. This wasn’t my day, it was ours. And while Dad was having his problems smiling, Flavio came out with the comment that it was the first time he had ever seen Annie smile!
I was also looking forward to hearing the Australian national anthem – for me. I love sport, I’m very patriotic to our flag and about us as a sporting nation, which is how most of the rest of the world perceives us. I had been to watch Jason Crump winning in speedway in front of a full house, and even Dad had goosebumps when Crumpy won and we heard the national anthem.
I thought then, ‘I want to do that one day …’
I was a Grand Prix winner at last, the first Australian since Jack and Alan who had had a chance to fly the flag. I had done it my way, and perhaps a little bit differently. I shared the podium with Felipe Massa and Seb, and I will always remember Felipe looking across at me and saying, ‘It’s a good feeling, isn’t it?’