That’s despite the fact that the grand prix wasn’t actually all that bad. Sure, it wasn’t a sizzler. But hardly the end of F1 as we know it. I reckon there were at least a dozen races in 2009 that played out in a similar way. In fact, this Bahrain Grand Prix had much more overtaking than the average race in 2009, even including the mad wet races.

There can not be a set of “fans” that complain more about the sport they follow. And yet, bizarrely, year after year, they carry on watching for some reason. Who’s the sucker here? It sure ain’t me.

Too much hype

The problem was that, as usual, F1 journalists went into overdrive with the pre-season hype. Time and time again we were told that 2010 was set to be the most exciting in years, although not much in the way of evidence was ever provided in support of this.

We were supposed to be excited because of the return of Michael Schumacher. But as I pointed out months ago, he was always bound to be off the pace, and so it proved to be. There will be no eighth world championship. Unless lots of sixth place finishes really get you going, there will be little in the way of excitement round here.

I think the new teams were also supposed to add a new dimension of excitement. They certainly have increased the level of interest in the back of the field — and a good thing that is too. But quite what else we should have expected as a result of their participation is a head-scratcher for me.

I seem to remember journalists banging on about the all-British inter-team rivalry at McLaren this year as well. That has also turned out to be a bit of a damp squib (so far). But it is not exactly a problem with F1 if one of them has so comprehensively outclassed the other already. Is Lewis Hamilton supposed to drop anchor just in order to increase the excitement here?

I sent the hypothetical question out there on Twitter — Can anyone remember the last time journalists didn’t say that the coming F1 season was due to be “the most exciting ever”? Alianora suggested 2004, which is a good thought. Although it was on the back of a really rather good 2003 season (tyre-rules-rigged-in-favour-of-Ferrari-scandal aside), and there was a lot of interest surrounding the radical Williams “walrus nose” (another damp squib).

The forgotten good news stories

No wonder people were upset. Not many races could have lived up to these expectations. What was, in truth, an average race (nothing more, nothing less) has been cited by hordes as definitive evidence that F1 is dying.

But I struggle to understand what people were expecting. Indeed, I have been quite surprised at the sheer number of interesting angles on the Bahrain Grand Prix that appear to have been largely overlooked.

• Fernando Alonso’s winning début — Okay, so this one has been covered extensively, but it is worth underlining. Alonso joins the select group of drivers to win on their Ferrari début — and he set a fastest lap over a second quicker than anyone else to boot. Forget the comeback of Michael Schumacher — Alonso showed his critics that he is the best, and with ease.
• Felipe Massa’s comeback — In his first race since his horrific crash in Hungary last year, Massa put in an admirable performance and finished second.
• The speed of Red Bull and Vettel — Despite the Ferrari 1-2, Red Bull have shown that last year wasn’t a blip, and they are serious contenders this year.
• Nico Rosberg outclassing Michael Schumacher — This one doesn’t fit in with the “Schumacher is the saviour of F1″ narrative, but even so I’m surprised more people aren’t hailing Rosberg’s success after what must have been a rather difficult winter for him.
• McLaren’s sneaky and massively clever pit stop strategy — McLaren appear to have exploited an under-advertised new rule that introduces a 55 metre zone round every pit box, designed to stop unsafe releases. My brother reckons McLaren are exploiting this to their advantage by bringing their cars in on the same lap as rivals that are just the right amount ahead of them, just to delay the release of that car. Genius (both McLaren and my brother!).
• Force India becoming the best of the rest — Most will have expected Williams to be the fifth team, but Force India look like they hold that position quite comfortably just now.
• A steady performance from Russia’s first ever F1 driver — Vitaly Petrov did a solid job in his first ever F1 race, running in a very respectable 11th place until a suspension failure. Petrov’s GP2 career was a slow burner, but his F1 career has got off to a bright start.
• Lotus beating Toro Rosso — This one has been covered extensively too, but it’s still worth highlighting again. Lotus — who have only had five months to design and build their car — have already emerged as the strongest of the new teams. They look to be around equal with Virgin in terms of pace, but definitely have the more reliable car — and even beat a Toro Rosso. Lotus are also bound to improve more than the other teams. At this rate, I’d be surprised if they don’t score a point this season.
• Virgin’s CFD-only gamble not backfiring — The question as to whether avoiding the use of a wind tunnel would be fatal to Virgin’s hopes has been put to bed. The car sets a decent pace, and the biggest problem is in fact reliability.
• Hispania’s miracle breakthrough — After a horrific winter, Hispania turned up at Bahrain having never tested, and did a hugely admirable job. Special mention should go to Karun Chandhok who did a great job in qualifying despite not even taken part in any practice!
• The less said about Sauber the better — although it’s still an interesting story.

It looks to me as though there is plenty for F1 fans to sink their teeth into just now, if only they tried. It is just that there was so much hype about the wrong things that the wood has been lost for all the trees.

But it can be improved

However, like most people I would prefer Formula 1 to have more wheel-to-wheel action. The signs at Sakhir were not particularly encouraging. I will reveal my thoughts on what’s what when it comes to on-the-track action in my next article.

First of all, the sole tyre supplier, Bridgestone, has announced that it will quit F1 at the end of 2011 when its current contract ends. This came as a shock. With the spotlight on car manufacturers, it doesn’t seem to have entered anyone’s mind that a company such as Bridgestone, which has been so incredibly loyal to the sport, would consider upping sticks.

I can remember a time when Bridgestone were not in F1, but only just. When I started watching Formula 1 in the mid-1990s, Goodyear was the sole tyre supplier. But Bridgestone entered in 1997, beginning the “tyre war”. When Goodyear left soon afterwards, it was not long until Michelin came in to begin an even fiercer tyre war.

I wasn’t a big fan of the tyre war. Mostly, one tyre was a major advantage over the other, so we were essentially left with two championships — a Bridgestone championship and a Michelin championship. Considering Bridgestone practically tailor-made their tyres to suit Ferrari, this essentially made Ferrari a shoo-in for the championship every year. That was until the 2005 regulations — which banned mid-race tyre changes — handed the advantage to Michelin in a big way.

2005 was the year when the tyre war well and truly jumped the shark. In the quest for the competitive edge, both companies had made their tyres softer and softer. The resurfaced banking at Indianapolis bit, Michelins exploded all over the shop and we were left with a farcical race in which only the six Bridgestone-shod cars competed.

On the back of the problems, the FIA decided that a sole company should supply the tyres for all the teams. The problem with this was that it had the potential to severely reduce the amount of exposure that tyre company got. With no tyre war to talk about, people might not talk about tyres. For this reason, Michelin refused to have any further part in F1.

The upshot was that Bridgestone and the FIA colluded to concoct the maddest new rules and gimmicks in order to contrive some interest in the tyres. One has to paint green lines all over the tyre in a crass attempt to pretend they care about the environment. Of course, the green on the tyres clashes with teams’ liveries, making the scheme not only nonsensical, but also damn ugly.

Teams are also forced to use a sub-optimal tyre compound at some point during the race. While this may have superficially “spiced up” the action, it is artificial. Drivers are critical of it, and Fernando Alonso even said that he would rather race with wet tyres on a dry circuit.

Moreover, there is a sense that Bridgestone may have deliberately made their tyres behave strangely in an attempt to get drivers and teams discussing tyres with the media. Nick Heidfeld has said that the tyres could be “ten times better”. Joe Saward expanded:

The Bridgestones react differently on each car and finding the tricks that make them work is not easy. Some drivers can do it at some tracks and not at others. Even World Championship challenger Jenson Button has struggled with this…

Bridgestone seems to have concluded that it is better to have people talking about the tyres rather than not talking about them – even if a lot of the references are negative.

I rejoiced when it was announced that a “control” tyre was to be brought in. But it has brought the wrong sort of control. I am not too sure that the current dark behaviour is an improvement over the honest competition of the tyre war.

If you have reached the stage where your marketing strategy is to have people make negative comments about your product, it probably is time to call it a day.

In many ways, Bridgestone get a huge amount of brand exposure through their involvement in F1. As noted in this week’s Formula1Blog.com podcast, you simply cannot watch a Grand Prix without learning that Bridgestone supply the tyres. Yet, after thirteen seasons (fifteen by the time they leave), the marginal returns to their investment must surely have diminished to almost zero. And As Keith at F1 Fanatic has pointed out, their costs are set to soar as they now have to supply twelve or thirteen teams rather than ten.

Nonetheless, it is a shock and a surprise that Bridgestone, a company that has stuck with F1 through thick and thin since 1997, has so abruptly pulled the plug. Now the FIA and Bernie Ecclestone will have a big headache trying to find someone to take Bridgestone’s place. With bridges burned with Goodyear and Michelin, and Pirelli uninterested, options seem thin on the ground.

When the Michelin runners pulled in at the end of the formation lap, ITV could easily have chosen to dump the coverage. Apparently, some channels around the world did. But ITV, to their credit, stuck with the race which was in a prime-time slot, knowing that what was happening was a huge story for Formula 1. The coverage itself was superb, striking just the right balance and bringing across to the viewer just what a farce it had become.

As James Allen says:

Commentating on the ‘race’ was completely different from any other race, as the story was as much about how the situation had arisen, how the crowd was taking it and where the sport would go next as it was about race action.

And Ted Kravitz points out:

Open hostility amongst the teams, the drivers literally powerless, and us on ITV broadcasting a meaningless race with six cars and ripping into the product we were meant to be promoting: a business that had forgotten it should be a sport.

That edition was nominated for a Bafta, but it didn’t win. Instead, ITV won Baftas for its coverage of the first race wins for Jenson Button and Lewis Hamilton. In both instances, the coverage was not particularly good for a host of reasons which I have outlined before.

ITV pulled off a master-stroke by selecting Martin Brundle has Murray Walker’s co-commentator. By all accounts, Brundle was a revelation as a television presenter, apparently leaving producers agog at his seemingly natural talent in front of the camera. It is all the more impressive when you consider the fact that Martin Brundle didn’t even want to be with ITV — he was still after a race seat!

Martin Brundle’s gridwalks have been one of the few must-see aspects of ITV’s pre-race coverage. However, over time it has become more and more farcical, as Brundle was increasingly asked by producers to interview irrelevant celebrities, and drivers continually give him the cold shoulder.

Mind you, the gridwalk has provided one of ITV’s finest comedy moments.

It wasn’t the only time a potty-mouthed driver let rip on live television. One of the most memorable was Mark Webber being interviewed after Sebastian Vettel crashed into him at Fuji last year. Live on British breakfast television, he explained, “It’s just kids. They do a good job, then they fuck it all up!”

And in Australia 2008, David Coulthard actually threatened to kick “three colours of shit out of the little bastard” Felipe Massa.

Meanwhile, Louise Goodman has said that this classic DC moment was her most memorable interview at ITV. Check out the professionalism of Jim Rosenthal!

In the background of that clip you can hear pundit Tony Jardine trying his hardest to stifle his laughter. The analyst was the only person other than Murray Walker to make the leap from the BBC to ITV in 1997, albeit in a different role (he was pitlane reporter at the Beeb). Tony Jardine remained with ITV until a few years ago. The decision to dispose of him in favour of Mark Blundell is one of the many questionable decisions that ITV have taken in recent years.

Simon Taylor used to work alongside Tony Jardine as pundit. He provided another comedy moment in 1997 when ITV inadvisedly presented the coverage for the Monaco Grand Prix from a yacht in the harbour. The boat bobbed up and down so much that Simon Taylor was unable to broadcast because he became seasick! I think a few viewers probably felt a bit seasick as well. ITV opted to present its Monaco coverage from a balcony in later years.

Simon Taylor was less engaging as a pundit and did not feature in ITV’s coverage for long. In fact, looking at the retrospective on ITV’s own website, it is as though Tony Jardine and Simon Taylor never existed.

All-in-all, I think the story of ITV’s coverage since 1997 is one that started off earnestly but dropped off over the years. The decision to hire experienced and respected analysts like Tony Jardine and Simon Taylor along with Murray Walker was the right move. It kept the F1 purists happy.

It certainly made up for the decision to employ Jim Rosenthal, someone who had no interest in F1 at the start, as the show’s anchor. I thought Jim Rosenthal did a very good job considering his inexperience of F1, and I think his understanding of the sport was very good by the time he left ITV-F1 a few years ago.

It was clear that ITV was proud that it had F1 coverage in 1997. I recall that in the run-up to their first race in Australia, ITV broadcast an entire evening of F1-based programming including a one-off chat show presented by Clive James and featuring several drivers, and a showing of the classic film Grand Prix.

And check out the original title sequence. It is dark, mysterious, and classy — a complete world away from the cheese-fest that ITV-F1 has become.

Looking at some of ITV’s programmes from the early years, which can be easily found on YouTube, the tone of the programme is surprisingly different. The pace is slower, as though the coverage is being given room to breathe — very different from the frenetic Hamilton worshipping of later years.

Over the years, the best aspects of ITV’s coverage were stripped away one-by-one. Murray Walker’s retirement was a big blow which I don’t think ITV ever quite recovered from. While in the early years ITV hauled a dedicated studio around the world to present its track-side coverage from, more recently the poor presenters have been left shouting above the noise of engines in the pitlane — completely pointless.

The decision along the line to ditch its respected analysts in favour of the more populist Mark Blundell was questionable. And the general focus on light features and Hamilton-hype in the later years left a sour taste.

Having said that, F1 coverage has undoubtedly come on leaps and bounds. Occasional technical features fronted by Martin Brundle were excellent. And it has to be said that the hour-long build up that ITV typically offered was a tremendous commitment, even if all too often the post-race analysis was hurriedly wrapped up if the race was longer than expected (i.e. any time it rained, or any grand prix shown in prime time).

And you have to feel sorry in a way for ITV. When they picked up the F1 rights in 1996, they will have been expecting F1 to be on the cusp of a Damon Hill era, thereby guaranteeing British bums on seats. Unfortunately, the Damon Hill era fizzled out even more quickly than it began, as Hill drove for the hopelessly uncompetitive Arrows team in 1997. Then ITV had to suffer the ignominy of covering the dull years of Schumacher dominance and Ferrari dirty scheming.

So it’s worth saying thank you to ITV and North One for the work they have put into bringing F1 to our homes for the past twelve seasons. We complained about the adverts and James Allen, but they also brought F1 coverage in the UK to a new level and the BBC have been given a tough act to follow.

Adam Parsons: You have a Ferrari over there. Ferrari International Assistance — that’s one of the things I’ve read on a blog — for the FIA. Let me put to you the question that they were right in the fact — is the FIA biased in favour of Ferrari?

Max Mosley: Absolutely not, no. One’s seen that over and over again. What happens is that the bloggers notice when something happens which disadvantages, say, McLaren or Renault. They don’t notice with Ferrari. I’ll give you an example. The mechanics on Räikkönen’s car in Monaco this year were a few seconds too long on the grid changing his tyres and he got given a drive-through. Well, a drive-through in Monaco — that’s it normally. And nobody noticed.

The reason nobody noticed was because it was the right decision. Of course you don’t have people applauding when the FIA makes the right decision. It’s supposed to make the right decision. It would be a pretty sorry state of affairs if people started noticing when the FIA was right rather than when it was wrong. That Max Mosley uses this as a barometer of the FIA’s success rather concerns me about the low level of standards he is actually looking to achieve.

The beef people have with the notion of Ferrari International Assistance is not that Ferrari are never punished. It is the fact that Ferrari are not always punished when they should be.

Why, I wonder, did Max Mosley not offer a justification for the FIA’s decision to let off Ferrari for Felipe Massa’s unsafe release in Valencia? Instead, he chose to focus on one drive-through penalty that Kimi Räikkönen received several months ago, as though that was proof of anything whatsoever. Does he really think that pointing to once instance of Ferrari getting a drive-through penalty several months ago is good enough “proof” that the FIA is not biased in favour of Ferrari?

And it’s not just penalties that make people suspicious. I struggle to think of any innovations that were made by Ferrari which were banned by the FIA in recent years. Why, for instance, were Renault’s mass dampers banned, but Ferrari’s wheel bins weren’t? A coherent justification has never been offered, as far as I’m aware. Why, also, were Michelin’s tyre banned towards the end of the 2003 season when Ferrari were in the deep brown stuff when there had not been a whiff of scandal about the very same tyres for several races beforehand (Ferrari went on to win the Championship)? No answer given.

As a side-note, I notice that the interview was conducted by Adam Parsons. He has been linked to a role on the BBC’s F1 coverage next season in an investigative / journalism / uber-Ted Kravitz sort of role. The fact that he conducted this interview seems to lend some credibility to that rumour.

Two years on, and I’m beginning to wonder if anything actually changed. Even with a single tyre manufacturer, the performance of the teams seems to fluctuate wildly for seemingly little reason. And what is that reason? Tyres of course.

This seems to be the stock excuse that explains just about everything in F1. If Sébastien Bourdais is not performing, it’s the tyres. If Nick Heidfeld is struggling in qualifying, it’s the tyres. If Kimi Räikkönen is trundling around in 6th place, it’s the tyres.

Now Ferrari have been complaining about the compounds that Bridgestone have chosen in recent races, claiming that Bridgestone have tended to edge towards the harder end of the range. Hard tyres, we now know, suit McLaren well, whereas Ferrari prefer softer tyres.

Ferrari’s technical director, Aldo Costa, complained in particular about the compounds that Bridgestone took to Hockenheim — a race that the McLaren of Lewis Hamilton dominated:

I think the last race for us was very difficult for finding the good grip from the tyres, but we were not the only team. Most of the drivers were having, during the race mainly, a lot of problems to find grip.

The tyres were very, very hard, probably too hard for that kind of circuit, especially the hard tyre. There was no wear at all; the tyre just was not working for that kind of circuit. This was valid for us and it was valid as well for most of the teams.

It is a bit rich for Ferrari to be complaining about Bridgestone. The Japanese tyre company has spent the best part of the past decade pandering to the Scuderia’s every need while every other Bridgestone runner was told to suck it. At least Bridgestone are now treating their role as sole tyre supplier to F1 without favouring their old partners any more.

Bridgestone’s Hirohide Hamashima has backed up the theory:

“Basically the Ferrari has more of a tendency to understeer than the McLaren,” Hamashima told autosport.com. “The McLaren is a little bit oversteery. When the tyre has good grip, the car with the oversteer tendency will be quicker over a single lap than a neutral or understeering car.

“But when you think about racing conditions – especially with the temperatures we had at the Hungaroring – then an oversteering car will have heat generating at the rear much higher than the understeering car.

“Looking at Hungary and (Lewis) Hamilton’s car behaviour, after a few laps he struggled with oversteer – so he was making lots of counter-steering movements. On the other hand the Ferrari had a good balance after a few laps.

“That’s why the temperature is making a difference.”

I have learned this year that even with just one tyre manufacturer in F1, tyres still make a huge difference to a team’s performance. You could argue that, when everyone is given the same tyres to use, it is up to the teams to find a way to maximise the performance of the tyres themselves. However, with four compounds for Bridgestone to choose from, the teams simply have to build their cars not knowing which tyres they will end up using most often.

Perhaps F1 could bring in a genuine control tyre, where Bridgestone make just one compound of tyre for all circuits so that the teams will know exactly what to expect all season. However, Bridgestone would be dead against this because they want people to talk about the tyres more often. Also the performance of the tyres would probably vary from team to team depending on the weather conditions and the characteristics of each circuit.

I suppose I should just accept that tyres will always play a huge role in motor racing. With tyres being the only part of the car that really propels the vehicle, their importance ought not to be such a surprise. But I’d even rather be talking about how important silly aerodynamic pieces like shark fins are than talk about these dull, dull, dull tyres.

Bourdais has excused his performances, explaining that he will come good when slick tyres make their long-awaited return to F1. The Frenchman is of course used to slick tyres having used them for several years in ChampCar.

For the past decade Formula 1 has been unusual among motor racing categories for its use of grooved tyres in dry conditions. Slicks were abandoned in 1998 in a bid to reduce speeds amid a newly-ignited tyre war between Goodyear and Bridgestone. The powers that be were in no hurry to do away with grooves as the tyre war between Bridgestone and Michelin was even more intense. But now that Formula 1 now effectively has a control tyre with one supplier, the need to curb tyre development is no longer there.

Grooves were always unpopular among fans who prefer to look of a proper racing car with slick tyres. Drivers also tend to dislike grooves because of their reduced grip and the safety issues this entails. Grooves also reduced the role of mechanical grip which in turn put the emphasis on aerodynamics. This has led to a perceived reduction in the amount of overtaking.

Jacques Villeneuve was particularly outspoken about the introduction of grooved tyres.

Later on that year he said “the new rules are bluntly shit.” For those comments, Villeneuve was punished by Max Mosley (whose vanity project grooved tyres was) through the FIA’s World Motor Sport Council.

It was always rather strange that a driver would come through the ranks from an entry-level series through to F3 then F3000 / GP2 always using slick tyres, then be expected to use grooved tyres when he reaches F1. Given that Sébastien Bourdais feels that he has not been able to show his true potential without slicks, has the past decade been a lost decade for top-level grand prix racing?

Which other F1 drivers might have been awesome if only they had slicks?

Would Pizza Boy have been the best thing since flattened bread? Not likely given that he even struggled in other formulae with slicks.

But perhaps a decent case can be made for some other drivers. Perhaps Robert Doornbos would have been slick on slicks. He did well in F3000 and even scored a couple of wins in ChampCar. Maybe Justin Wilson couldn’t get into the grooves. He has also had a strong career in the USA where slicks are the norm.

The reverse seemed to happen for Mika Häkkinen. When grooved tyres were introduced in 1998, Häkkinen’s hitherto dormant career exploded into action. His first win did come in 1997, on slicks, but that was effectively gifted to him. On the other hand, Häkkinen’s talent was plain for all to see even before 1998.

Do I think Sébastien Bourdais will improve on slick tyres? My feeling is that tyres have a small role to play. But it’s not a very significant role. I think it would be closer to the truth to say that the standards of driving in ChampCar are much lower than in F1 and Bourdais simply doesn’t have the talent to hold his own at the highest level.

Bernie Ecclestone must have been spitting feathers. I know I would have been (hell, I was anyway). Furthermore, the whole saga just went to show that Max Mosley does not care about the interests of Formula 1 in general. He is only interested in throwing his weight around and helping out Ferrari.

Now they are engaged in a public war of words through the medium of the letter. After Max Mosley’s stunt last week of sending a letter to the FIA club presidents in a last-ditch bid to save his bacon, Bernie Ecclestone yesterday returned the favour to try and dispel Mosley’s claims.

By now it is pretty clear that Max Mosley’s decision to hold a General Assembly in June was a ploy to buy himself some time. He will be hoping that a combination of the time spent to let the scandal die down a bit and his new conspiracy theories will be enough for him to see off a confidence vote in just over a week’s time.

But Max Mosley is surely mistaken if he thinks his letter will help put him in the clear. Keith Collantine has already cast his eye over the letter, and I have to agree with the points he has made.

Mosley claims that he has received 62 letters of support, and only 13 asking him to resign. But this total represents a small proportion of the 222 votes that are eligible to be cast in the confidence vote. And, as Keith has pointed out, those who want Mosley to stay are more likely to write to him and say so. Mosley’s attempt to demonstrate that he has widespread support falls flat.

He then goes on to suggest that allowing the next FIA President to be chosen democratically would be detrimental to the interests of the FIA. Beautiful. I would have thought that the FIA clubs would find that quite insulting.

In the letter he goes on to bring up some spurious allegations about negotiations between the FIA and the Formula One Commercial Rights Holder (CRH) (who is, to all intents and purposes, Bernie Ecclestone). Mosley reveals that the 100 Year Agreement between the FIA and the CRH is currently under renegotiation. Quite how Max Mosley has got himself into a situation where he needs to renegotiate a “100 Year Agreement” which was supposedly settled back in 2001 is glossed over in the letter.

Mosley alleges that the CRH is angling, “in effect to take over Formula One completely”. This includes giving the CRH the right to determine regulations.

However, as has been pointed out today by Pitpass, such an arrangement would not be allowed by the European Commission anyway. And this fact is the very reason why the FIA and the CRH are separate. Max Mosley seems to be suggesting that Bernie Ecclestone intends not only to ignore the EC’s demands and take over F1, but also that Bernie thinks he will get away with it. Bernie isn’t that stupid. The allegation simply doesn’t add up.

In the next sentence Max Mosley asserts that such an arrangements would be detrimental to the FIA’s ability to protect “traditional Grands Prix”. For one thing, this is clearly an attempt to gain votes from some countries whose Grands Prix are currently under threat. I do wonder exactly what powers the FIA has to protect “traditional Grands Prix”.

If such a power exists, the FIA is surely not doing a very good job of it. Last year the calendar did not contain the German Grand Prix and it will be doing the hokey-cokey with the Nürburgring-based grand prix (whatever it gets called in the end) for the foreseeable future. The Belgian Grand Prix, held at the hugely popular historic Spa-Francorchamps, has been only a semi-permanent fixture in the calendar since the start of this century.

The fact also that the French and British (and now Australian) Grands Prix are constantly operating underneath the Sword of Damocles suggests that this ability to “protect traditional Grands Prix” is a very empty concept.

Sure enough, what exactly constitutes a “traditional Grand Prix” is not defined, and seems to be just a hazy concept present only somewhere in the darkest recesses of Max Mosley’s head. It is a meaningless fig-leaf.

Mosley goes on to point out that “there has been a struggle for control of Formula One that goes back to the original Concorde Agreement in 1981.” Pointing this out is presumably supposed to scare the voters into selecting the status quo option. But this seems like a very odd tactic to me.

Max Mosley has been in charge of the sport for the majority of that period — since 1991. The fact that Max Mosley himself admits that he has been unable to put a lid on this “struggle for control” says it all. Why should the voters be persuaded to keep someone in on the basis that they can see off this “struggle for control” when that person has evidently failed to do so for the past 17 years?

He then undermines these arguments by promising that he will step down in 2009 anyway! What a joke. Max Mosley’s letter seems to be a last-ditch, desperate attempt to save his reputation. The notion that Bernie Ecclestone was somehow involved in the News of the World allegations looks paranoid (especially when there is a rather simpler explanation — News International getting its own back).

The fact is that Max Mosley himself knows that his position is untenable. This is evident from the fact that — despite beating his chest about the fact that he is attending the Monaco Grand Prix — he is spending the entire weekend locked up in his private offices and, on his rare traipses outdoors, refuses to answer any questions from the media. This whole thing stinks of someone who can’t bear to go down without bringing others with him — hence his cack-handed attempt to bring Bernie Ecclestone into the centre of this whole sorry saga.

Yesterday Bernie Ecclestone responded with a letter of his own. In it, Ecclestone asserts his support for the FIA being the “sole body governing international motor sport” and confirms that the CRH “supports and concurs” with the European Commission’s requirements to keep the commercial and regulatory branches of F1 separate. He confirms that the CRH has no interest in controlling regulations, while pointing out that the FIA’s decisions should not be detrimental to the commercial interests of F1.

In fact, there is not anything very controversial in the letter at all — which you would expect, since Bernie Ecclestone had to defend himself. But it does add to the amount of arrows that seem to point to the fact that Max Mosley is not quite telling the whole truth in his letter of last week.

What is interesting about the letter is the constant emphasis on how it is in the interests of F1 for the FIA to be led by a “respected” President. And Max Mosley is anything but respected nowadays.

The sum of these two letters has been pointed out by Clive at F1 Insight: “Max either admits to lying or has to call Bernie a liar.”

Meanwhile, there are suggestions that the Thursday press conference at the Monaco Grand Prix was rigged. The panel was stuffed full of Max Mosley’s cronies, friends and allies. There are suggestions, too, that conference moderator Bob Constanduros was pressured into asking a question about Max Mosley. Funny how all this should happen at the last grand prix before the General Assembly.

Over the course of the Monaco Grand Prix weekend, it is becoming clear that Bernie Ecclestone has completely withdrawn any support he had left for Max Mosley. First he pointed out that Mosley’s letter was just “a smokescreen to stop all the other nonsense”.

In the Telegraph he was even stronger:

Everybody’s wrong except him. Everybody was involved in the orgy except him. He is just lashing out at anything he can. If he wants me to be the enemy he should be very careful because if he makes me an enemy I could make sure that he never whips anybody again.

I’m not sure about the bravado at the end there, but Bernie is absolutely right about Max Mosley here. Throughout this whole saga, Max Mosley has been trying to build conspiracies, shift the blame, and try to make out that it’s the News of the World that has brought the sport into disrepute. But no-one forced Max Mosley to whip prostitutes in a basement. Say what you want about the privacy issue (and I certainly have my opinions there), but once the facts are in the open there is nothing you can do about it. And it is no-one’s fault but Max Mosley’s.

While the media has been tempted to spin this as motorsport’s governing body letting McLaren off the hook, this misses an important point. There isn’t much evidence that McLaren have done anything wrong. The saga remains an issue concerning two rogue employees — Mike Coughlan of McLaren and Nigel Stepney of Ferrari.

There is no evidence that McLaren have benefited at all from the Ferrari documents. Indeed, there is not even evidence that the documents were ever in the possession of any McLaren employee except for Mike Coughlan. And while, as chief designer of McLaren, he was a pretty important figure, he can not have had the time to do much with the documents anyway.

Somebody yesterday said to me that it was a bit fishy that McLaren have come up with a fast car this year. But Mike Coughlan came into possession of the documents in late March — long after this year’s McLaren was designed; even after it first raced. And it is not as if it is unusual for McLaren to design a fast car. Indeed, it has been overdue, as they have experienced an unprecedented drought of success in recent years.

You only need to take a glance at the Ferrari and the McLaren to appreciate that they are not similar cars. The joke normally goes that if you gave all of the F1 cars the same paint job you would be unable to tell them apart. But the chassis of the Ferrari and the McLaren are very noticeably different to each other. Seemingly, nothing on the inside of the cars has rung alarm bells either.

There is the possibility that some Ferrari information was used in the development of the car as the season has gone on. But McLaren’s incredibly open offer to hand its car over to the FIA for inspection shows just how confident Ron Dennis was that his team had not broken the rules. The fact that the FIA have seemingly found no evidence of copied Ferrari parts vindicates this. Ron Dennis is a meticulous and honest man, and McLaren’s record is about as unblemished as they come.

Furthermore, a careful reading of the saga as it has drawn out has revealed that McLaren was never going to be the team where the Ferrari documents would have come in handy anyway. The most likely scenario is that Stepney approached Coughlan with a view to creating a “dream team” of engineers who would approach Honda.

Stepney in particular, and presumably Coughlan as well, were disillusioned with their employers for whatever reason. In Honda they would have seen the perfect opportunity: a team with a big budget and in desperate need to extra engineering and technical expertise.

They were looking for a boost in pay and status, and saw Honda as their best option. The Ferrari documents merely formed part of their arsenal. Honda are in the clear though, as they did not hire Stepney or Coughlan.

And Stepney’s involvement is important. GrandPrix.com has suggested that McLaren may have argued in court that if McLaren are to receive a penalty because of Mike Coughlan’s actions, then Ferrari ought to receive a similar penalty for Nigel Stepney’s actions. Given the lack of evidence of McLaren actually benefiting from the documents, this seems like a sound argument to me.

Given all of this information, it would have been pretty difficult for the WMSC to justify any draconian punishment for McLaren. Yes, Ferrari are livid. But this is typical of Ferrari. It is tough to think of a year in the past decade or so where Ferrari have not resorted to the rulebooks and the courts in an attempt to win the championship.

I will pluck just a few examples from the top of my head. The illegal bargeboards at Sepang in 1999: cleared by FIArrari. The sudden appeal against Michelin tyres towards the end of 2003, despite the fact that they had been used for almost two years: upheld by FIArrari. Last year’s claim at Monza that during qualifying Massa was being “impeded” by a Renault that was half a kilometre further up the track: supported by FIArrari.

Usually Ferrari’s whining succeeds because the FIA are Ferrari lackeys. This is why Jean Todt’s claim that Ferrari would have been punished if they were in the same situation is so laughable.

This latest saga is yet another example of Ferrari trying to win the championship through the many grey areas of the rulebook rather than the grey surface of the race track. What a breath of fresh air for the FIA to go against Ferrari’s wishes. It further demonstrates how little evidence there must have been of McLaren wrongdoing.

It is also worth remembering that McLaren have not gone completely unpunished. The FIA will be keeping an eye on them for the next two years to check for an evidence of the Ferrari information being used by McLaren. If McLaren step out of line, they face immediate exclusion from the championship. This is surely a fair verdict. As Ron Dennis said yesterday, “the punishment fits the crime.”

Keith Collantine has come to a similar conclusion to me, and makes a number of interesting points.

Ferrari claimed that the verdict creates a damaging precedent. They’re wrong. Imagine if McLaren had been docked points, even banned from the championship, simply because Coughlan was found to have Ferrari documents in his possession, without having used them.

We would then have a scenario where any disgruntled employee could hold their team to ransom by claiming they possessed similar confidential documents about another team.

In all legal systems, there has to be a dividing line between the companies’ responsibility and the individual’s.

Now for a bit of tin foil hat stuff. Where has this all come from? Many observers have noted how difficult they found it to believe that such well-regarded figures as Nigel Stepney and Mike Coughlan would get involved in this kind of behaviour. Whatever their motives, there is little doubt that it has not paid off, as their reputations are in tatters and they both face lengthy bans from motorsport.

There is, indeed, a real whiff of fish around this entire saga. Sidepodcast outlined a number of the aspects that just didn’t add up. A good point is made about the whistleblower who contacted Ferrari, said to be a worker at a Woking photocopying shop:

here’s a challenge. pretend you’re the copier guy, try and call the Italian team, see how many hoops you have to jump through to get in touch with them. then see if they even respond, let alone believe what you’re claiming.

i’m damn sure if it were me the first call i’d make would be to the police…or failing that, the Daily Mirror. this guy could be worth a fortune now!

final point. where is this mysterious tipster and why isn’t he talking? what a great story he would have. the tabloids would love it, especially on the weekend of the British GP. we’re not getting half the story here.

Here is something else that has got me scratching my head. It is this month’s ‘Friction Circle’ column in F1 Racing, written by Peter Windsor. He is a bit of an FIA / Ferrari lackey, but he is also a wise man whose word and experience are surely to be trusted. Here is what he said:

…espionage is alive and well in F1 and has been for the past couple of decades. I’m not talking about ‘cloned’ cars such as the Benetton–Ligier or the current Newey or Honda chassis. I’m talking deliberate industrial espionage — and I speak from the experience of having worked in F1 teams for a total of eight years during that period. I saw it with my own eyes — the evidence of senior employees sending drawings to destinations that could only be described as arch-rivals. It was blatant, obvious, but the F1 world just seemed to take it for granted.

…

A big thank you, then, to Ferrari, McLaren and Honda — and especially to the FIA — for giving this most recent matter the publicity and sincerity it deserves.

Now this is surprising to me, because almost every other experienced observer that I have read has written about how unbelievable they found the entire situation. Yes, they say, spying is normal. Taking photographs of rival cars is standard practice. But industrial espionage on this scale? “I’m shocked, just shocked!”

So is Peter Windsor right? Is industrial espionage the norm in F1? If it is, why has nobody said anything about it before? Why hasn’t Peter Windsor himself ever said anything about it?

Assuming Peter Windsor is right, this just adds on another question to the never-ending list. Why have Stepney and Coughlan been singled out, while similar behaviour has been “taken for granted” in the past?

We tried our best, but in the end it just wouldn’t work out.

Formula 1′s relationship with Indianapolis is about as rocky as it gets — and that really is saying something in F1. In a way, it is amazing to think that, had Indianapolis been a venue next year, it would have been its tenth Formula 1 race. When people look back on the period, some might wonder if it was just a silly experiment that was doomed from the start.

On paper, it was a fantastic idea. One of the world’s most prestigious racing circuits (indeed, the self-styled “Racing Capital of the World”) plays host to the world’s greatest motor racing series.

Unfortunately, there was an elephant in the room. In fact, there wasn’t just one elephant in the room. There were several.

First of all, despite all of its chest-beating, and the reverential treatment which American motor racing fans give it, Indianapolis Motor Speedway is not a great circuit. I was in the room with my father when I heard the news about Indy being dropped. The radio reporter was waxing lyrical about how special the circuit is. My dad instantly spluttered, “No it’s not! It’s an oval!”

So a plan had to be hatched in order to stop Formula 1′s broadly European fan base from being sent into a coma by the prospect of F1 races happening on the oval. They also had to accommodate the fact that F1 drivers are used to racing through corners and, moreover, corners that go both left and right. So an actual circuit that had to be designed by means other than drawing around a protractor was built on the inside of the oval.

The circuit has broadly met with disapproval from those who dislike its ‘stop-start’ nature and “Mickey Mouse” corners. In sum, it was a botch job. You could never escape the fact that it was really an almost unwanted appendage to the oval.

This all stems from the fact that American motor racing culture is so different to European motor racing culture. So while Indianapolis is a Mecca for American petrolheads, Europeans are much more likely to worship the Nürburgring Nordschleife.

I have written about this in the past. In a nutshell, while we Europeans don’t “get” oval racing, Nascar and the like, Americans don’t “get” Formula 1.

It is quite appropriate that I should write about this in the week that David Beckham has moved LA Galaxy. At the moment, commentators are predicting that Americans will be attracted by the glamour, but they probably won’t understand why he is a good footballer. It is said that Americans will be expecting Beckham to score five or six goals a match, without even realising that he isn’t a forward.

Exactly the same is true of F1. I sense that Americans have a sneaking suspicion that Formula 1 is great. But they just don’t understand why it’s great. They expect lots of overtaking! They expect big crashes! But Formula 1 does not supply this enough, instead emphasising aspects like great driving, technical excellence and, er, turning right.

I remember reading an amusing comparison a few years ago. I think it was made by David Richards (correct me if I’m wrong). He said that Nascar is like a cheeseburger, while Formula 1 is like caviare. That sounds like a snobby thing to say, but it has a ring of truth to it.

In this sense, selling F1 to Americans is a little bit like flogging a dead horse.

The next problem was television. In one sense, the US Grand Prix was a dream for Formula 1, because it took place during prime time for Europe. It was a double-edged sword though (in the UK at least) as it meant that ITV had better things to do in prime time than watching cars going round and round on an oval a Mickey Mouse track. So the programme was shortened, with little post-race analysis.

Moreover, viewers had to endure for what felt like half the race a ticker that helpfully informed us that “Coronation Street follows the race”. This was despite the fact that the race was not eating into Coronation Street’s scheduled slot, which was exactly the same slot that it occupies every other Sunday.

Don’t forget that the race was coming from America, which meant that for a couple of years viewers had to endure pictures broadcast in the blurrier, fuzzier NTSC standard rather than the PAL standard which Europeans are used to. Not very good, particularly when we are trying to watch fast-moving cars. A bit more blur is the last thing we need.

The situation was so bad that Bernie Ecclestone, for the only time ever, allowed terrestrial broadcasters to transmit the superior F1 Digital + pictures (shot using FOM’s own equipment) in 2002. Following the closure of F1 Digital + at the end of that season, FOM has thankfully remained as the “host broadcaster” of the US Grand Prix in every subsequent year.

As the icing on the cake, it looked quite bad on the television because there were so many empty seats despite the fact that the US Grand Prix is one of the most highly attended of the year. But whenever the camera had a surplus grandstand situated on a part of the oval that is not used by F1 in the background of the shot, it looked pretty bad.

Then there is a matter of what actually happened on the race track. It is highly unfortunate that some of Formula 1′s very darkest moments have happened at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Canspice puts it succinctly: Formula 1 has consistently shat on Indianapolis.

First of all, there was the manufactured dead heat controversy of 2002. Michael Schumacher slowed down before the finishing line in what was perceived to be a return of the favour that Rubens Barrichello gave him at the Austrian Grand Prix of earlier that year.

What Schumacher forgot while he was cocooned in his cockpit and helmet was that two wrongs do not make a right. And while Barrichello was stripped of his deserved victory in Austria, the American fans were denied the right to see the rightful victor crossing the finish line first. In short, the whole race was pointless.

Amid a cacophony of boos and jeers, Michael Schumacher made up a lame excuse. He was bored of all that winning malarkey and had taken every record in the book. In search for a new challenge, he wanted to manufacture the closest finish to a race ever.

Nice try, Schumi. I know the stereotype is that Americans are not quite as intelligent as some on this side of the pond. But they are not, in fact, stupid. American race fans were taken for mugs that day.

But that was nothing compared to what was to come in 2005. Due in part to the unusual banked Turn 13 (unlucky for everyone in F1 — especially Ralf Schumacher), Michelin tyres were failing. And Turn 13 is one place were you do not want to be driving an unsafe racing car. It was yet another example of why the circuit was just not suitable for Formula 1.

But it was too late to do anything about the layout of the circuit now. At least, it was if your name is Jean Todt or Max Mosley — whose stance on making last-minute alterations to a circuit had completely changed since Barcelona 1994.

There was plenty of buck-passing, finger pointing and blame gaming. Everyone had their opinion as to who was at fault (you can see what I thought at the time by browsing through the archives of this blog). The problem was that all of the extended arms pointing fingers tangled up to make a massive web that the whole of F1 got stuck in.

As such, only six cars took to the grid and American fans were deprived of a proper race. It was hilarious in a sense — partly because it was a farce, and partly because it showed that even with only six cars on the entire track, Michael Schumacher still managed to crash into his team mate. But beyond that, it was more offensive than doing a poo on the dinner table.

Since then, F1 has been on its best behaviour — particularly in America. Almost. Because, despite all of the crap that Formula 1 has flung at Indianapolis, IMS boss Tony George seemed fairly keen to keep the race.

More keen than Bernie Ecclestone was at least. Over the past couple of years, Ecclestone has been lobbing several insults at America, along the lines that Formula 1 doesn’t need America (probably true, as it survived without for most of the 1990s, and never had the full attention of America before and after then either) and that F1 gets more viewers in Malta than in America (demonstrably false).

It is as though, having explosively crapped on the dinner table, Bernie Ecclestone wanted to do a little wee on the carpet just to top it off. Yet, Tony George wanted F1 to keep on visiting Indianapolis. Is he a masochist?

Not really. Because, despite all of the above (and there is a lot of it, as you can see!), Formula 1 had the potential to work at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway — particularly in recent years.

In fairness to the track, it is not actually all that bad. It had grown on me, particularly this year. This year’s race had some interesting overtaking battles on the infield, and this was improved by the tight “left–right–left” switchbacks. These corners do not look attractive and are apparently not fun to drive.

But they ensured that overtaking manoeuvres were prolonged. It was no longer a matter of sticking your car on the inside and breaking later — because your opponent has the inside line to the next corner.

Even though Americans just don’t “get” F1, it is still massively important to them. There were even hints last year that the state could subsidise the Grand Prix!

Also, the businesses of Indianapolis also love the Grand Prix. In fact, it is often their biggest weekend of the year. Amazing when you consider that it is the home of the Indianapolis 500, but there you go. Seemingly, F1 fans are big spenders. But that’s what happens when you’re used to caviare.

Not only did last week see the exit of Michael Schumacher from Formula 1, but it also saw the exit of the Michelin tyre company. With a control tyre due to be brought in by the FIA for 2008, it has brought to an end the tyre war for the foreseeable future.

With more and more restrictions being placed on chassis and engine development, most time can be gained through improvements in tyre technology. It is said that 2006′s tyres were 2 seconds per lap faster than 2005′s. The rivalry between Bridgestone and Michelin had become increasingly competitive over the past few years.

Here is an extract from an article by Paul Kimmage in The Sunday Times from a couple of months ago.

At a press conference the next afternoon at the [Istanbul] circuit, [Jenson Button] is joined on stage by fellow drivers David Coulthard, Kimi Raikkonen and Tiago Monteiro. A French journalist raises his hand and asks, “Question to you all: who will win the world championship? Schumacher or Alonso?” The four give the same reply: the championship will basically be decided by the team with the best tyres. The journalist is annoyed. What? No names? No opinions? “We’ve given our opinions,” Button insists. “We can’t see into the future. We don’t know what’s going to happen.”

We meet an hour later and I pull him up on it again. “What was all that corporate crap? Why couldn’t you give the guy a straight answer: Alonso or Schumacher? As a journalist and a fan, I find that absolutely infuriating.”

“Because it’s the truth,” he says. “It will all come down to the tyres.”

“The tyres,” I repeat, incredulous.

“The tyres, 100%,” he insists.

Kimmage might not have believed him, but it is true. Over the past few years if a driver won the World Championship the tyre manufacturer got the credit. If Schumacher qualified on pole it was because Bridgestone produced a good qualifying tyre. If Alonso won the race it was because Michelin had produced a good race tyre.

In reality, we no longer had a Drivers’ Championship or a Constructors’ Championship. All we had left was a glorified Tyre Championship in all but name. It’s not as heroic as a driver standing up on his seat to win a race. It’s not as sexy as a constructor pushing the boundaries of technology to make their car better. Formula 1 had come down to four — literally — black boxes. Elements that are peripheral to the cars became central to the championship.

Competition is good. It drives improvement. But the thing about tyres is that because they’re black boxes you simply don’t see that improvement. Today’s Formula 1 tyres look almost exactly the same as they did in 1998, even if what goes inside them has developed radically.

The only way we can actually see a tyre making a difference is by looking at a list of lap times. It’s not like watching a driver making an audacious overtaking manoeuvre, a team making improvements to their car design or even the crew executing a slick pit stop. Put simply, tyres are boring. End of.

At first the tyre war added another variable into the mix; a new angle to look at the Championship at. But by the end it had overwhelmed the entire Championship. It drowned out all of the other elements that make motor racing what it is.

Alonso ran away with the first half of the season. When Michael Schumacher made his comeback it was accompanied by a Toyota resurgence at certain races. That wasn’t because of anything Schumacher or Toyota did. It wasn’t not a coincidence that Ferrari and Toyota both used Bridgestone tyres.

Here is what F1Fanatic had to say on the morning of qualifying at the Chinese Grand Prix.

The Toyota drivers Ralf Schumacher and Jarno Trulli, whose average starting positions this year prior to Japan were 10.38 and 11.19, are third and fourth. The swing in tyre performance is so great that its making a mockery of the endeavours of teams and drivers – just as it did to Michael Schumacher and Ferrari last year.

The tyre war has provoked some cripplingly dull races this year when either Michelin or Bridgestone have been miles ahead, handing Alonso and Schumacher some very uncomplicated wins.

I couldn’t agree more. This season might have had a topsy-turvy championship because of the competition between the tyre manufacturers. But a lot of the races themselves — particularly at the start of the season — were shockingly dull, simply because one tyre company would have such a huge and obvious advantage over the other.

F1Fanatic also makes reference to a piece by Mark Hughes in favour of the tyre war. Some F1 fans have relished the tyre war because it has often made things exciting. But that just shows up the big problem with Formula 1 at the moment. How many people can honestly say that they started watching motor racing because they were interested in tyres? Any takers? Surely not. Motor racing is about great drivers and great cars — not bits of rubber.

When Kimi Räikkönen lost the 2003 World Championship, it was blamed on 23 laps of the rain-hit United States Grand Prix when the Bridgestones had a 1.4 second per lap advantage on a drying track. Those crucial 23 laps were, so Michelin said in the December 2003 edition of F1 Racing magazine, the only laps where Bridgestones were faster than the Michelins. And it won Schumacher the championship.

It might have made that particular aspect of the championship interesting. But I don’t want to see a driver win the Drivers’ Championship because he has superior rubber. Nor do I want to see a constructor win the Constructors’ Championship because it happens to use the best tyres. It makes a mockery of the whole idea of racing. You might as well just take one Bridgestone and one Michelin and roll them down a hill to decide who wins the championship.

So good riddance to the tyre war. If it means that next year’s season has fewer twists and turns, then so be it. At least I will be able to see what makes a winning team — because it will no longer be concealed in those anonymous black boxes.