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Simulation Racing Leagues => Assetto Corsa => Thursday Nights fun racing => Topic started by: rooshooter on February 15, 2018, 05:31:44 PM

Title: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on February 15, 2018, 05:31:44 PM
Frank Gardener thoughts on test drives in the Porsche 917 and Ford GT40  prototypes  in the 1960s  :o :o 8)
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag Dec 1999
Post by: Phil.8 on February 16, 2018, 11:13:52 AM
That's a good read
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag July 1972 ride with Denny Hulme in his CanAm McLaren M20
Post by: rooshooter on February 19, 2018, 05:54:02 AM
I have subscribed to Motor Sport magazine which has digitized it's back issues from the 1920s to present, as I come across any articles I think people may be interested in I will copy them here.  If anyone has a question, about any event in motor sport history, in the last 100 years, I may be able to find the answer. This one is for Bacchulum ;D

Taking a ride in Denny Hulme's new Can-Am McLaren

All American motor-racing commentators are alleged to thrust a microphone at the sweaty and hot winner of any given race and enquire: "Say Mario, what was it like out there?" Mario (or who ever the winner was) is rarely coherent at that stage to express any sort of lucid opinion; he says the car performed beautifully, he would like to thank his sponsors and mechanics, and can he have a Coca Cola please?

But what was it really like out there? How did it feel to have 750 b.h.p. behind your left ear? What sort of sensation would one feel braking madly from 180 m.p.h. to 40 m.p.h. to take that hairpin bend every lap? What did one physically feel as the car snaked through that fast left and right kink? How can the race spectator in the grandstand ever know the physical feeling and sensation of cornering a modern racing car on the limit with the vast tyres exerting a grip of over 1½G sideways. How does one feel as the engine shrieks up to maximum revs in top gear and the speedometer, if racing cars had them, would be hovering close on 200 m.p.h.? For that matter, how does a motor-racing journalist who earns his daily bread describing all the action know these answers, unless he is a racing driver of considerable talent himself?

This last question occurred to former World Champion Denny Hulme, who reads his motoring magazines more avidly than most. Hulme remembered that three years ago the late Bruce McLaren had given Michael Tee of Motor Sport a ride round Riverside during an official Can-Am practice session. That story you can read in the Castrol Book of Motoring Sport. Hulme was keen to repeat the idea and, after consultation with Phil Kerr, joint managing director of Bruce McLaren Motor Racing, a date was arranged when Hulme would give selected motoring journalists the chance to sit alongside him as he drove round Goodwood in the latest McLaren M20 Can-Am car. I was one of the lucky ones included in the rather apprehensive party who made their way to the Sussex track—now in semi-retirement.

My memories of Goodwood were always pleasant for, somehow, the sun always seemed to shine when I reported races from there. Nothing had changed much and the surface is very good and the famous chicane still in position. Hulme knows the circuit like the back of his hand for McLaren use Goodwood a great deal for their testing programmes of all their various models. It was here, of course, that the team's founder, Bruce McLaren, lost his life—a sobering thought reminding one that the risks of motor racing, even at testing sessions of this nature, are ever present. Sometimes Hulme does as many as 250 laps round the circuit in one day and he knows every inch of that tarmac strip.

The actual McLaren M20 which was ready and waiting was not, as I had expected, the prototype test car but the actual M20 that Hulme is now racing in the Can-Am, and at Goodwood it was literally only the second time it had turned a wheel. The M20 is the work of Gordon Coppuck, chief designer at McLaren Racing, and it supersedes the M8 series which has reigned the Championship for five years now, each season's model being updated but not redesigned. Coppuck's new design is not radical but it is obviously a very sensible progression from the M8F of last year. He decided to concentrate more of the weight within the wheelbase and thus the car has side water radiators instead of a front-mounted rad. Another factor he felt important was that of insulating the cockpit from radiator heat because, in the past, the 200-mile Can-Am races have fatigued even strong men like Denny Hulme considerably. Obviously the fit driver is a fast driver.

Thus the monocoque hull for the new car bears little resemblance to the M8 series. It is waisted in at the rear for the radiators, the full load of 70 gall. of fuel is carried more centrally now (again with polar moment of inertia in mind), and the front steel bulkhead has been eliminated with just mild steel brackets riveted to the aluminium skin to take the suspension pick-up points. The mounting of the aluminium Chevrolet V8 has also been altered. Thus the new chassis has a lower c. of g. than before, and more weight towards the centre of the car. Other features of the M8 have been retained, for the front and rear suspension, braking system, oil tanks and other various components remain generally the same although altered in detail. Again the McLaren team are relying on the 8.1-litre (495 cu. in.) V8 engine with an all-aluminium Reynolds block, to the Chevrolet ZL-1 design. Various off-the-shelf ZL-1 high-performance Chevrolet parts are used in the building of these units by McLaren's own engine shop in Detroit, which is run by Gary Knutson. In normal fuel-injected form the engines give up to 800 b.h.p. but, if the McLaren team find they are having problems with Mark Donohue's turbocharged Porsche, they too may try turbocharging. The McLaren engine is a semi-stressed member of the car bolting up to the back of the monocoque section but supported by two tubular A-frames which pick up on the bell-housing. Naturally one of Hewland's big four-speed LG Mk. 2 gearboxes transmits the power.

Although the M20 is a completely new car it still looks very similar to last year's car bodywise, although experts will be able to easily distinguish it by the front-mounted wing which replaces what used to be the radiator intake and, of course, the new side radiator intakes. Naturally the car is finished in Gulf-McLaren orange for the team is sponsored substantially by Gulf who place great store in the Can-Am programme.

Enough of the technical stuff—what was it like out there? Well for a start the team, with their usual thoroughness and efficiency, had fitted seat belts to the very narrow passenger compartment and moved the battery to make room for the passenger's feet. Denny Hulme had even brought along his spare helmet and some overalls. but I had my own anyway. By the time it was my turn to become one of the fastest Can-Am passengers in the world the engine was starting to show signs of a leaking head gasket, or something and Hulme laconically reckoned it was probably only giving about 700 b.h.p. The New Zealander was already surprised to find that the passenger seemed to make no difference to the handling at all. He was keeping a little in reserve but even so, with colleague Alan Henry from Motoring News alongside him, he lapped Goodwood at 1 min. 11.0 sec. (125 m.p.h.)—only three seconds off his best.

Once I was installed in the car with instructions on how to brace myself and not to get my feet tangled up with Hulme's—space in the footwell was rather limited—my chauffeur enquired if I knew the way round Goodwood. Fortunately I did and this made everything rather less frightening for, at least, one knew which way the next corner was going. We were push-started and off we burbled for a first warming-up lap. It was really rather pleasant, the cornering forces were as high as I had expected, the brakes similarly impressive, and the acceleration rapid. The Chevrolet V8's noise was rather left behind, and I wondered what all the fuss was about. That was only the warming-up lap. As we passed the pits for the first time I gestured a thumbs-up sign as Hulme floored the throttle and we surged forward. The acceleration was staggering and I tried to tuck down under the screen. It was a different dimension altogether. We lunged at Fordwater at an impossible speed but obviously it wasn't impossible because I had every confidence in Hulme, he knew exactly what he was doing and of what the car was capable. The big M20 stormed through the corner on a perfect geometrical line with complete neutral handling, not sliding at all, but the sideways G it was generating was phenomenal. The G tried to drag my head right from my shoulders and my whole body was compressed against the side of the car. So we continued at shattering speed left and right and right again and down the Lavant Straight, reaching 180 m.p.h. on the way before the staggering braking into Woodcote which wrenches the body against the seat belts. I can't honestly remember much else. The second lap I was determined to watch Hulme as closely as possible while still revelling in the unbelievable sensation of the road flashing by like those speeded-up films they sometimes show of the Motorway.

Hulme was completely calm and relaxed, looking almost as if he was on a Sunday afternoon drive. That was the way he looked but obviously he was concentrating on only one thing, he was almost as one with the car and in perfect control. For him the side-forces, the acceleration and retardation were all things that he lived with almost every day of his life. For him, and a few dozen other people in the World they had become the norm but for us lesser mortals the skill the concentration and the sheer guts are a quality we can never hope to possess. This was just driving round minding his own business; in a race Hulme will have many more problems to worry about in the heat of competition.

So for the second lap I tried to watch Hulme his measured movements always exact and efficient, his gear-changes lightning fast and neat, his face—what I could see of it—revealing no emotion. The lap was over almost as it began and for the final "victory" lap we cruised round in top still pulling enormous sideways G around the corners and the car decelerating like, a Trident 3 on full reverse thrust but about three times as quickly. Quite how man is able to judge distance and speed and these kinds of velocity is inexplicable? But the short answer is that Hulme is one of only a handful of men who can do that and undoubtedly the best in Can-Am racing.

Almost before it all started, this shattering, and I might say enjoyable, experience was all over and I was stepping out of the car trying to pretend that these sort of things happened every day. I wasn't frightened and the reason was that the car was the McLaren M20 and, above all, the driver was Denny Hulme. It was a staggering experience I will remember all my life because I know what it is like out there.

A. R. M.
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: Phil.8 on February 19, 2018, 12:00:31 PM
Imagine doing a lap like that, would be scary stuff
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on February 21, 2018, 09:15:54 AM
Imagine doing a lap like that, would be scary stuff
Back in 1972 that would really have been something unbelievable !!!!!
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on February 21, 2018, 09:24:05 AM
With further time to look at what is available from this online magazine archive it is possible to do a search for almost anything motoring related  1920s to present, car tests (models available in the UK), F1, MotoGP, CanAM, rallying, Historic Racing, World Landspeed records, etc etc. So if you would like me to look for something for you please ask 8).
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: Phil.8 on February 21, 2018, 10:33:56 AM
World Landspeed records are always interesting
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on February 21, 2018, 10:42:05 AM
World Landspeed records are always interesting
I am not able to copy the pictures Phil, I can do a copy and past of the web link for article itself but I am then logged in to Motosport Mag with all my details available to view. If anyone can see a way around this, it would be great.

 by Andrew Frankel on 31st August 2016

I was five when Gary Gabelich broke the Land Speed Record in October 1970 and, I guess for that very reason, it was a very big deal. I don’t think you understand much about speed at that age and I certainly didn’t appreciate that Gabelich really didn’t raise the record by much at all, LSR-wise. Decimal places aside, he improved it from the 601mph where it was left by Craig Breedlove five years earlier, to 622mph. Breedlove by comparison was the first person through 400, 500 and 600mph and did it all between 1963-65.

But I was six weeks old when Breedlove set his last record and had my mind on other things. By the time Gabelich turned up at Bonneville I was a fully tuned in, pocket-sized petrol head. But of course the real reason it earned my undivided attention had nothing to do with the man at the wheel, it was the car to which that wheel was attached. The Blue Flame. Or, to give it its full name, the Reaction Dynamics Blue Flame. No Land Speed Record car ever sounded cooler. Not even George Eyston’s Thunderbolt. Nor did any ever look better. Even now, 46 years after Gabelich streaked across the salt, I look at the Blue Flame and find it aesthetically unimprovable.

Photo – Tom Margie Flickr

If someone wheeled it out today as a brand new Land Speed Record car we’d still all coo over a shape that made it look like a rocket on wheels. That, in very precise terms, is exactly what it was. But I love the details too, from the angle of the stabiliser fin at the back and design of the cockpit area to the way it changes colour along its length. Visually it is, was and will always remain the perfect visual expression of the Land Speed Record breaking art.

That is odd because the Blue Flame is actually the exception to the Land Speed Record-breaking rule. For the last 110 years every record has been set by a car powered either by an internal combustion engine, or a jet. All, that is save the Blue Flame, which was powered by the aforementioned rocket.

I had always wondered why more LSR cars had not been rocket powered. There have been others, notably the Budweiser Rocket in which Stan Barrett claimed to have gone supersonic in 1979, but the record was never proven nor ratified. But rockets are light, very simple, generate huge power and don’t require the huge air inlets needed by jets that define their shape and frontal area. Perfect LSR propulsion units, you might therefore think. It took none other than Richard Noble to explain to me that while rockets are very good at gaining speed, they’re not that great at maintaining it for the period of time required to set a Land Speed Record at a speed that is the average of two runs in opposite directions within a one hour timeframe. That made me admire the Blue Flame boys even more. Whatever speed it actually reached and whether it broke the sound barrier or not, no one disputes the fact the Budweiser Rocket only ever ran in one direction.

Photo – Flock and Siemens

But next year if all goes according to plan, a rocket powered car will break the Land Speed Record for the first time in 47 years. The Bloodhound SSC isn’t the best looking LSR car, nor does it have the best name, even if it is named after a 1950s surface to air missile designed by Ron Ayers who is also the new car’s chief aerodynamicist. But in its use of all three principal power units – rocket, jet and internal combustion engine – it is unique. Essentially the jet gets the car going so rocket fuel isn’t wasted at speeds for which it is not needed, only kicking in above 300mph to push the car through the sound barrier and beyond. A 5-litre, 550bhp supercharged Jaguar engine acts as a fuel pump for the rocket.

I went to see Bloodhound this week. It’s around 80 per cent complete and should be ready to run in South Africa next year. Although its creators may beg to differ, it is not a beautiful car. But it is brutally purposeful and full of details to delight the LSR-obsessed child that still lurks within me. It has a normal speedometer for instance, normal save the fact that it reads up to 1100mph and that its secondary calibrations are not in kilometres per hour, but Mach. Its steering wheel and the very tip of its nose are both 3D printed – in titanium. And there’s even a conventional rev-counter and stop watch in there, both purpose built for Bloodhound by Rolex.

Photo – Flock and Siemens

So once more I’m getting excited by the Land Speed Record and the prospect that, 20 years after he became the first and to date only man to have indisputably travelled across the surface of the planet faster than sound, Andy Green might break his own record in 2017. But that will only be the start: if all goes well next year, the car will spend that winter being equipped with the more powerful rockets required to push it past 1000mph in 2018.

And there I expect the history of the Land Speed Record will come to an end, at least for those reading this today. The sad truth is that in the last half century the Land Speed Record has only been broken three times and the speed raised by less than Breedlove managed in just two years. It has reached a level now where going faster has become an exponentially more difficult process. If Bloodhound does manage to raise it from the 760mph at which it has stood these last 19 years to over 1000mph it will be the greatest achievement in Land Speed Record history and, in my lifetime at least, the last. And that will make me happy, proud and just a little bit sad.
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on February 21, 2018, 11:22:53 AM
This might work... it does Phil..now enjoy with pictures :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on February 21, 2018, 12:00:12 PM
Another LSR article with help from my wife.
Part 1
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on February 21, 2018, 12:00:43 PM
Part 2
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on March 17, 2018, 08:43:04 AM
The slick tyre revolution

Page 51, July 1999
Technofile - the slick tyre

The slick tyre was one of the greatest revolutions in racing car history, yet it crept into Formula One almost unnoticed. Keith Howard discovers its origins.

If you know your maths you'll know what an asymptote is: a value that is approached but never actually reached, like the hapless frog whose every jump across the pond is half the distance remaining to the other side. The slick racing tyre was an asymptote of sorts. Although it was, of course, a destination eventually reached, it took many years of painstaking development to do so. Moreover, as the treadless tyre era approached it was heralded by semi-slicks with very little and to the casual observer, vestigial tread pattern. So obvious, so infinitesimal seemed the final step to no tread at all that the slick eventually made its entrance without great fanfare, or even much comment.

When I began researching this piece I felt certain I'd quickly discover a potted history of the slick in my modest library of technical and motor racing tomes and cuttings, on the Internet or, surely, in back numbers of MOTOR SPORT. But no. Only careful reading of the magazine's Grand Prix reports from 1971 finally turned up this tantalising snippet from the Monaco GP: "...Peterson using some new Firestone tyres on his March, as were the two Lotus drivers [Wisell and Fittipaldij. These were a new compound smooth tyre, reckoned to give increased cornering power...". Although it's an equivocal remark, I take it to mean this was the first occasion a true slick was used in Formula One. But for the fine-toothed comb I was wielding that day, I might easily have missed it.

In itself the treadless tyre was nothing novel, of course. It had been used on Land Speed Record cars and in drag racing years earlier, but those applications were significantly less challenging. Removal of tread on high-speed tyres was simply a logical step to counter heat build-up; in drag racing the slick was used because of the superior grip it offered, but under conditions of traction and braking only. For the racing slick it was cornering that was to prove the really big problem. Why want a slick at all? It's a reasonable question because what you learn about friction in school physics suggests it's a senseless exercise. You may recall having it drummed into you that the frictional force developed between two sliding surfaces is dependent only on the clamping load between them, not on the contact area, and that the maximum possible coefficient of friction (friction divided by load) is One. If that rings a bell then cast such notions aside. Although this classic view of friction holds good where both materials are hard and unyielding, it means nothing in the world of tyres.

Frictional interaction between a flexible material (rubber) and a hard material (road) is fundamentally different, as a consequence of which two of the three statements above become untrue. Frictional force remains dependent on load, as before, but the area of contact is now a significant factor too and Unity no longer represents a theoretical maximum for friction coefficient. In fact a modem slick typically has a coefficient of friction around 1.8.

Contact area being a factor makes the attraction of a treadless tyre immediately obvious. Any form of tread pattern results in a reduced area of contact between rubber and road. Remove it and, provided you allow yourself the luxury of reverting to a treaded tyre when it rains, you have a tyre capable of generating more grip.

The story of the F1 slick is often reckoned to begin with the arrival of the two American tyre giants Firestone and Goodyear in F1 during the mid-1960s, and the Indycar tyre know-how they brought with them. Certainly the renewed competition acted as a wake-up call to incumbent Dunlop. But two technical developments were crucial to the slick tyre's development, one of which - the introduction of synthetic (particularly styrene-butadiene) rubbers - took place earlier, beginning with the Dunlop R6 (CR48) tyre of 1962. Synthetic rubbers, because they were created in the lab rather than bequeathed by nature, really kick-started the art of modern tyre compounding, opening the way to the development of a new breed of soft tread materials that were to prove vital to the slick. Racing tyres of the time were notoriously hard, Jim Clark once remarking that he was certain they grew rather than wore during a race as they picked up detritus from the track.

As tyre widths rapidly increased in F1 during the latter half of the '60s, a second crucial development occurred. Up until this point the crossply casings of the tyre had been formed in a circular cross-section, necessitating the shoulders of the tread to be created by increased rubber thickness. As tyre widths and cornering knees grew, this caused overheating. The solution lay in what Dunlop called 'reverse crown' or 'depressed crown' casing in which the tread area was formed in concave section, the tyre assuming its correct shape only when inflated. This allowed the thickness of shoulder rubber to be reduced from up to 20mm to 6-8mm. The Americans used something similar, derived from their Indycar experience.

From this point, you could say the slick became an inevitability, although a deal of development was still required, particularly in the compounding area, befbre it became a practical reality. You might suppose that removing the tread pattern should make a racing tyre more predictable in its responses, by banishing undesirable tread squirm, but early attempts at the slick defied such expectations.

Jackie Stewart, for example, tried a treadless Dunlop in private testing with the new March team in 1969/70. The tyre's 970 wet compound - soft for the time but hard by today's standards - conferred excellent braking and traction performance, but cornering grip lacked the necessary progression. Sudden breakaway made the tyre too difficult to drive at the limit. Only by adding small tread features, like the so-called crows' or sparrows' feet in the pictured 1970 CR92, could the tyre be made driveable.

Dunlop quit F1 at the end of the 1970 season, of course, so the final step of removing all vestiges of tread was left to its American competitors. Not, as I've noted, that putting the final piece of the jigsaw in place exactly made the headlines. It must seem ironic to those from all three F1 tyre suppliers of the period, who strove to make the slick work, that the FIA in its wisdom should now have banished it from Formula One altogether.

Our thanks to Alec Meskell, ex-Dunlop International Racing and Rally Service, for sharing his recollections
 
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag ,Being Jack Brabham
Post by: rooshooter on May 04, 2018, 07:35:58 AM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OI9wXkHXqyA&t=911s

Motor Sport
Published on May 3, 2018
Jack Brabham, through the eyes of three of his most important cars. Dickie Meaden and Black Jack's son David drive the BT7, BT24 and BT33 for what is a very special track test.
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: Phil.8 on May 04, 2018, 02:36:47 PM
Thanks for posting, brilliant,   get an idea of what those cars were like
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: Dave O on May 04, 2018, 05:46:53 PM
Yeah, great insight into the man and the cars, well worth a watch.  :)
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: rooshooter on May 07, 2018, 07:59:16 AM
 Iron Fist Velvet Glove
A happy-go-lucky approach to life might seem incompatible with a relentless will to win, but Daniel Ricciardo blends both to good effect. His recent victory in Azerbaijan owed much to racecraft and opportunism, but he believes Red Bull will soon be challenging its rivals on equal terms

And up popped his grinning face again, top step of the podium. From nowhere. Daniel Ricciardo somehow always manages to be the one who prevails when the races get crazy, when circumstances allow an opportunity to steal a win out of thin air. For Baku a few weeks ago, read Montréal, Budapest or Spa 2014. He has a way of weaving together the thread that will wrap up his drive and seal it, as sure and finely judged as his differentiation of prayer, possibility or probability of a pass on track...

He is a winning machine, one who because of his equipment has been presented with relatively few opportunities for victory but who has an uncanny ability to deliver them from mere vapours. There’s a fierce fire within him but a self-control that is arguably better than anyone else’s on the grid, the fire deployed as a weapon but without ever breaching an iron discipline. In repose, out of the car, he’s the laid-back Perth guy with the perma-smile, sunny disposition; friendly and outgoing, what you see is absolutely what you get. The Latin is only visible when the fire flares – out of nowhere, like his passing manoeuvres. As Helmut Marko said: “He isn’t scared of anything. Just this little smiley guy… but if it matters… bang. Senna was never as relaxed as Ricciardo and that for me – to be so competitive but enjoy life – is amazing.”

How are those two things compatible? Let’s ask him. “I was just born easy-going and happy. I had a good upbringing and when you’re in Australia in a warm climate, with a beach around you, it’s kind of hard not to be happy and outgoing as a kid.” He’s from a great family, raised by dad Joe and mum Grace. “Dad’s actually super-placid and easy-going but if he’s got a case he’s not afraid to tell someone what he thinks. He’ll stand his ground. But I would say his fuse is shorter than mine.” 

These days, perhaps. It wasn’t always so. “I was a terrible loser as a kid. I just couldn’t deal with losing. That competitive side was just so intense. I’ve got better control of it now but it’s just as well otherwise I’d be having fist fights all the time! When I was a kid one of my best friends came around to the house for a game of PlayStation. He took me off on the last corner and won – and I lost my shit. Basically, I dropped him right there in the kitchen, tiles and plates crashing around everywhere. Another time I was playing tennis with my cousin and I lost a point. I went right up to the net and smashed the ball into him from about two metres away as hard as I could. I was pretty vicious as a kid; kind, friendly and happy most of the time, but I certainly had a switch. I was such a bad loser.”

A bouncily irrepressible kid with some inner but undirected force. He was unusual – at least his teacher thought so. “I just couldn’t sit down for long. To a point where a teacher called my mum in one day and said, ‘I just what to know if your son has a problem, an attention deficit disorder or something, because he just can’t sit still, can’t focus.’ My hand to eye co-ordination was always good,
I could pick up sports really quickly. I was playing a lot of sports but didn’t dedicate enough time to one to get really good at something, but if you gave me a ball I could kick it, I could catch. The basics were there and I just loved being outdoors. I always knew I was going to do something active as opposed to sitting behind a desk - I knew from an early age that wasn’t me. I dreamed of F1 but did I actually think at 10 that I’d get to F1? No. The realisation came quite late, actually.”

The 10-year-old just treated it like any other sport at first, the impetus having come from dad Joe, a club racer himself when he wasn’t running his engineering company. “Yeah at first and for quite a while I was probably a bit too soft in karts. I think I was too young and a bit scared of the speed and the potential risk. But
I got to a point where I got comfortable with everything and then I became pretty aggressive on track, had some good verbals after the races with other drivers.” With the inner demon released, and Joe footing the bill, progress thereafter came fast – and a remarkable driver began to take form.

“Dad was good. I was pretty fortunate; he wasn’t a typical racing dad. He knew that once I got to a certain level he couldn’t help me, knew he couldn’t teach me anything more. He knew race lines and the basics, but once I was getting coached by higher-credential people he was happy to sit in the back, just making sure
I was focused and still wanting to do it.
Other than that, he was happy to see me have the same passion he had. I think he was happy I could actually do something with it after he supported it in the early days with the business he’d built up.”

From local Formula Ford to European Formula BMW and then a place on the Red Bull junior driver roster. Once he’d achieved that, he knew he was on his way. That sort of inner confidence is a crucial part of his strength. At Baku, on the grid after the race had been red-flagged with him in fifth place, having completed several spectacular passes, he could be overhead talking to Marko about how he’d be handling the restarts. Marko was warning about engine temperatures and Ricciardo was saying he didn’t need to worry as he’d be immediately passing the two Williams at the restart. He proceeded to do exactly that. It was in essence the race-winning manoeuvre. Ambush is very much part of his game and rivals ignore his presence at their peril. It’s that force inside he talks about. 

Now that he has full control of it, the demon is used as a weapon. “When I was at Toro Rosso I think there was a perception that ‘Ricciardo’s pretty quick but too nice for this sport and not an overtaker.’ From the outside I guess that idea had merit but I just hadn’t been given a chance yet to prove myself. But I knew this fire was still in me, I just knew it and I was like, ‘Okay, just wait until I get my chance at Red Bull.’ When I joined there in 2014 I wanted to make a point: that not only was I quick but there was something inside me I knew I could release. I now had the platform to show it.”

Yet he is still underrated.

Post-rationalising explanations are still sought by many in the paddock to explain why he instantly out-performed Sebastian Vettel in the latter’s own environment in 2014 – but none is needed: he was faster and he worked the tyres better. The arrival in the team of teenage sensation Max Verstappen was widely expected by some to demote Ricciardo’s standing; it’s done nothing of the sort. Verstappen has arrived as a remarkable, push-to-the-edge-at-all-times sort of driver, hugely exciting to watch, a sort of modern-day Gilles Villeneuve in his approach. But it’s easy for the brilliance of Verstappen to overshadow the very different, but equally remarkable, skills of Ricciardo. There are many more colours to his picture. Time without number he’s been circulating apparently out of the leading picture in the early stages of a race then, like a switch, the pace is turned on and a few dizzying moves later he’s a factor, having marshalled his resources with perfect judgment. “He’s like Muhammad Ali in that George Foreman fight,” says his friend, Getty photographer Mark Thompson. “He takes his punishment, you think he’s finished and then there’s a moment – and it switches. He strikes out and suddenly it’s all happening and he’s unstoppable.” It’s a good analogy. 

“He’s amazing,” says the difficult-to-impress Fernando Alonso. “He’s so smart on track. You do not see any mistakes when you are wheel to wheel with him. With overtaking manoeuvres probably he is the best out there. When he commits to one movement, 99 per cent he will achieve the result that he wanted.”

“It’s pretty cool that Fernando has said that stuff,” smiles Ricciardo. “Even before F1 I respected Alonso for his talent and strength so to have such a compliment is nice. I’d like to think because we’ve raced wheel to wheel that it’s a good evaluation from someone who knows. It’s nice but at same time I can’t rest on that – Alonso said I was really cool so give me your best contract! People forget quickly. To get to the top is hard but to stay there is just as hard.”

When Verstappen arrived in the team at Barcelona last year, he went quicker than Ricciardo in both Q1 and Q2 before then delivering a super-quick Q3 lap. Ricciardo sat in his car, helmet off, relaxed, joking with his crew and looking anything but under pressure. With just one Q3 run he went out and knocked a full 0.3sec off his new team-mate’s time. It was difficult not to feel he’d deliberately played it to take the wind out of Verstappen’s sails. The screams of delight from Ricciardo’s radio on the in-lap emphasised the competitive intensity behind the smiles. So he was devastated that a team strategy call lost him the race – and won
it for Verstappen. When he lost Monaco two weeks later to a team pit lane blunder, after a scintillating performance from pole, the grin finally disappeared. He looked utterly desolate on the second-place podium post-race and admits he had to cut himself off from the team for a few days immediately afterwards to prevent himself saying things he knew he shouldn’t. Is there any scar tissue left from that? The question triggers a nervous laugh. “No. Look, I still… my motivation against that is I still believe I’ve got years left in F1 and I’ll get another opportunity to win Monaco. If I get to my last race in F1 and I still haven’t won Monaco maybe I’ll be pissed off again. But for now I’m looking at the positives.”

Sometimes it feels like there might be a subtle undercurrent of this team gravitating towards the mercurial Verstappen, despite its best intentions, leading one to speculate whether Ricciardo, who turned 28 in July, may look outside the team for the ultimate success. “Part of me hopes that it happens here,” he counters. “This year’s pretty much done for the world title but next year I hope we can really turn it around and fight for it. But beyond ’1
 I don’t know where I’ll be, what I’ll do. The real nice story would be to do it here; Seb’s the only guy so far – though he did it four times! That’s a tall order. For now, I’ll happily take one with Red Bull.”

That would probably entail beating Verstappen over a season – by no means an easy feat. “I don’t want to take anything away from the others, but I do believe Max is the best guy I’ve had alongside me. He’s proved that. And he’s still young and still has room to improve and to grow. The challenge has been real. It’s a tough one because I want to win all the time but I also want to be challenged. I do welcome that challenge. I feel like we both – though we don’t tell each other – have those moments where I’ll see I’ve done a corner pretty good and I’ll be, ‘Yeah, match that,’ but then somewhere else he’s done something and he’s probably saying the same. Last year there was a lot of that going on and I think we really brought the results forward for the team. I think he’s proven he’s a top-shelf driver and can adapt pretty quickly and just get in and go. I feel we’ve both learnt off each other.”

Just three years on from being the team’s precocious new force, he’s seeing it from the other side now. “It does feel different,” he says. “I felt really young in 2014. Now I feel older, not the young pup. But in terms of the ambience that’s about the only difference.”

Does he ever reflect, looking at Vettel’s blockbusting success at the time, upon how things might’ve been if he’d got in a Red Bull in, say, 2011 rather than 2014? “Yes, of course. But it’s easy to say that. I try not to dwell on that sort of stuff: ‘wrong place, wrong time, maybe it’ll never happen, Red Bull should’ve been good this year and they’re not, is it meant to be?’ I don’t really get involved in that and I try to be… if I just keep being at this level I know it’ll eventually work itself out and the success will come.”

Meanwhile Red Bull strives to rediscover its mojo after the RB13 has proved a curiously low-key car by the team’s standards. Only in the last few races, as Adrian Newey has led a development programme, has it begun to look like a Red Bull. Ricciardo’s Baku victory owed a lot to attrition (Vettel’s penalty, Hamilton’s headrest problem, Verstappen’s engine failure), but a third place in Austria and a brilliant drive from 19th to fifth at Silverstone show the direction of travel.

“It’s not all in the car yet but we’re understanding it more and back at the factory they are very busy with some new bits. By Budapest we should have aerodynamically a pretty sound race car. We now know what we have to do and just have to get it on the car as fast as possible. It’s more balanced than it was but we can still get it better. The cars are more difficult to drive this year anyway; they snap, you can have a moment without reading it as quickly. Whether that’s this car or all of them this year I don’t know. The wider tyre, more grip, then suddenly no grip, so maybe. This car’s easier than it was in Melbourne but to push the car on the limit… it’s weird; they have more grip and normally with more grip it’s just more planted and easier to drive, but to go quick when you’re on the limit it doesn’t necessarily behave like that, feels more on the knife edge. It’s a challenging car but we’re closing on the sweet spots now, closing in on where we need to be. Mainly it’s lacked rear end grip. Since I joined in ’14 we’ve had a pretty strong rear and could’ve done with a bit more front. I think since 2014 you can see on track the Mercedes can take shallow apexes and just turn from anywhere. We felt that’s where we weren’t as strong as Mercedes in the last few years. But this year with the new packages it feels the rear is where we’re losing out to Ferrari and Mercedes. That’s getting better but it’s what we need to keep working on.

“There will be circuits in the second half of this year where we can definitely have more than a nibble, I think, hopefully a good bite. Budapest – that circuit always seems to suit us and I like it a lot but also by that stage we should have a pretty good car under us. There, Singapore, Malaysia should be good. Hopefully other ones as well, but I’d like to think we know we can count on those.”

With some support from Renault Sport development of the power unit, he remains convinced that a 2018 title is within his and the team’s grasp. It’s interesting he won’t speculate beyond that, and the Ferrari question inevitably poses itself. He’s batted it away many times before and does so again here. “The rumours seem to float around and from my side there’s no weight behind that at the moment. I can’t see anything changing. But never say never. Even if I’ve got five or eight more years in the sport, anything’s possible. We’ll see what the future holds but at least short-term I can’t see anything happening.”

And then he’s off, talking nonsense and making everyone smile. “Yeah, after F1? I’d like to do NASCAR. I love watching it and I think I could do the talk – think I could add a bit of wedge. Whatever that is!

“Yeah, favourite fish? Sea bream, I’d say. A bit like sea bass but the texture’s a bit more meaty and it kind of slides off the bone. Sea bass is a bit mushier. A bit of lemon, yeah, great. Kangaroo meat? I’ve never tried. I wouldn’t order it, it just doesn’t seem right,” dazzling smile.

Intensity switched off. But the demon is in there. Just waiting. When the opportunity comes, it will be ambushed.

(What the will to win can mean to a person was best explained, imho, in the movie Borg vs McEnroe , Borg's son played his father's part in the movie.) this is my opinion not part of the article.
Title: Re: MotorSport Mag
Post by: Phil.8 on May 07, 2018, 11:31:11 AM
Thanks for that, a good read :)
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