Early in 1973 Hesketh Racing had
announced that not only would James Hunt contest the Formula 2 series, he would also sometime during the year make his Formula 1 debut as part of an exploratory program prior to embarking on a
full Formula 1 season in 1974.
This startling news was greeted with
considerable scepticism by the motor racing establishment. There was amazement
at the arrogance and presumption of Hesketh Racing, owned by a zany, playboy
peer and managed by a failed Formula 3 driver named Bubbles, whose ignorance of
the finer points of the sport was confirmed by his choice of driver.
While Hesketh's plans represented an amazing
change of fortune for James his critics felt he would always be Hunt The Shunt.
Playing into their hands was the broken arm James suffered a few weeks before
the start of the season. "I was down in the country having lunch",
said James, "then started playing silly games on the lawn afterwards, like
they do in the country, and just fell over."
For disbelievers this laconic public schoolboy
explanation only reinforced their conviction that the incorrigible Hunt lacked
the necessary seriousness of intent to ever become a proper racing driver.
Further ridicule was heaped on his absurdly ambitious upstart team when it was
learned that the Hesketh personnel would defy the tradition of dull, drab (and
usually dirty) uniforms by being kitted out in garish outfits 'like American
footballers.'
For his team colours Lord Alexander Hesketh chose stripes
of red, white and blue on a white background, not because they were the racing
colours of the Hesketh stables, but for reasons of patriotism.
In the past motor racing entries from various countries were assigned colours: silver for Germany, Red for Italy, Green for Britain, and so on. Lord Hesketh thought "British racing green was magnificent, though rather too subtle. But I'm a great believer in this country. So we ran with the colours of the Union Jack."
In the tradition of American footballers each Hesketh Racing team member had their name stencilled on their shirts and anoraks. Alexander thought it "would look rather ridiculous" to give such prominence to 'Lord Hesketh' but wanted something to show he was the proprietor. He chose 'Le Patron' which was originally used by the famous French car constructor and racing team entrant Ettore Bugatti.
The team mechanics rejoiced in such labels as
'Ball Of String', 'Ferret', 'Rabbit' and 'Thomas The Tank Engine.' Bubbles was,
of course, 'Bubbles' (and still signs cheques and legal documents that way). Le
Patron, still referred to by James as "The Good Lord", called his
driver "Superstar because I thought it was very important to endorse the
product early on so there was no misunderstanding."
To "bait the pompous" motor racing establishment was a prime motivator for Lord Hesketh, who still derives considerable satisfaction from having done that.
"At the top of every undertaking, in
sport, in politics, you name it, the establishment always like to preserve the
impression that they have a number of great skills and arts which are not
easily acquired or, even more to the point, impossible to acquire. And one of
the great advantages of being young is that you can take that on. You don't
mind driving into brick walls and picking yourself up and carrying on. With
perseverance and a bit of luck you can make huge strides. And that's what we
did."
***
In explaining his reason for funding Hesketh
racing Lord Hesketh said: "A lot of people want to make a lot of money to
store it away. I want to make a lot of money to be able to spend it. I like
spending to create something which is entirely my own and this is why I have
the racing team."
But the road to riches for a private entrant in motor racing is rocky and Le Patron soon learned the truth of the old adage that it's easy to become a millionaire in the sport as long as you're prepared to spend two million to get it.
All the other Formula 1 teams were funded by sponsors, some of them to the tune of several million pounds. John Player Team Lotus, Elf Team Tyrrell, Yardley Team McLaren, Marlboro BRM and the others measured their success in terms of public exposure for the brand names and consumer product messages that adorned the bodywork of their cars.
But the defiantly pure livery of the Hesketh
March, white with the Union Jack stripes, meant the team was racing for the
glory of England and Le Patron's personal satisfaction. Thus, his return from
his investment would have to come from seeing his team produce positive results
and he admits that he "used to be hysterical with fury if we weren't on
the first three rows of the grid."
Since Formula 2 was causing him hysterics it
took little persuasion for Bubbles and James to convince Le Patron to accelerate
their Formula 1 program.
James noted that "Alexander's attitude was that we were doing pretty badly in Formula 2 and for very little additional cost we could do badly in Formula 1!
"He felt that there would be a hell of a
lot more fun doing proper Grand Prix racing, so he said, 'Let's go and mess
about at the back of Formula 1.' Monaco happened to be the first race that we
were ready for. But that suited his Lordship very well. He could arrive with a
bit of flash!"
***
Hesketh Racing's headquarters at the Monaco
Grand Prix was aboard the 162 foot Southern Breeze, one of the biggest yachts
in the harbour, but not big enough for Le Patron who was disappointed to find
another team had commandeered a craft 20 feet longer than his. He took some
solace in having the most exotic tender in the harbour, his Bell Jet Ranger
helicopter, with which he whisked his guests back and forth from the Nice
airport.
For ground transportation there was the
pin-striped Rolls Royce Corniche, an exotic new Porsche Carrera and an
expensive Suzuki motorcycle. The galley in the Southern Breeze was presided
over by a master chef in white regalia but the crew seemed composed mostly of scantily clad,
nubile young ladies.
In the Hesketh pit under the umbrella pines
beside the harbour sat a brand new March 731, which had been bought from Max
'The Great Chicken of Bicester' Mosley. Watching over the March was the team's new recruit, Dr. Harvey
Postlethwaite PhD, BSc, who had been lured away from March Engineering where he
was the chief development engineer.
'The Doc', as he became known at Hesketh, was
highly respected in the rather black art of building racing cars, though his
detatched, professorial demeanour meant he was considered to be something of an
eccentric in racing circles. Confirmation of this, for many at Monaco, was his
decision to associate himself with Le Patron's band of dashing dilettantes. The
Doc's explanation of his move to Hesketh was that "They got me
drunk."
Pete Lyons, the veteran Autosport Grand Prix
journalist, was amused by Hesketh Racing's gaudy trappings and colourful antics
and welcomed the team as a breath of fresh air in the staid and rigidly
conformist 'F1 circus.' He was particularly intrigued by 'Superstar,' the
Hesketh driver.
'He looked to be comfortable on the Monte Carlo
quais', Lyons wrote. 'Tall, lean, good looking in a hard-lined sort of way, he
favoured shirts that showed the fine suntan and the strings of beads on his
chest, and his splended Nordic hair was left dashingly long.
'He made a good photographer's fashion model;
or perhaps he was a rising film actor; or maybe he was only a rich playboy. But
anyway he fitted in well on the Riviera. He had the kind of appearance that
attracts the eye; once seen, he was remembered.'
'Superstar' Hunt (dianefineart.ca)
James was anything but comfortable and composed
as he sat strapped into the March on the Monaco starting grid.
After qualifying 18th in the field of 25 cars here he was buried among all the
famous names in racing.
On the front row were Jackie Stewart in his Tyrrell and Ronnie Peterson in a Lotus. Next up were Denny Hulme in a McLaren and Stewart's team mate Francois Cevert, followed by Emerson Fittipaldi in the other Lotus and Niki Lauda in a BRM. There were several other drivers James had raced against before but any comforting familiarity he felt was dwarfed by his fears about what lay ahead in his first Grand Prix.
The Monaco circuit had mercifully not claimed
many lives but in this race six years earlier Lorenzo Bandini had been burned
to death in his Ferrari. Sitting there, surrounded by 40 gallons of volatile
petrol in the fat-tyred March's fuel tanks and with power the equivalent of 500
runaway horses reverberating against his backside, James was petrified.
"I was nervous, very nervous. Before any
race I became nervous, particularly if it was important to me. And that race
was very important. Monaco is a pretty tough place to start a Grand Prix
career. The track is so narrow, you're shifting gears all the time and there is
absolutely no room for error. Five hundred horsepower is a lot to tame in that
confined space. Before I got into the car I was puking all over the place and
on the grid I was just a shaking wreck.
***
Alone in the cockpit James blinked rapidly,
trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Steeling himself for the start he
was oblivious to the mass of humanity packed into the tiny Principality to
witness the most glamourous of all motor races.
James' forward view was confined to the wide
rear wings and tyres of the cars immediately in front of his March. He glanced
at his instrument panel where the needle of the rev counter flicked up and down
in response to his agitated right foot tramping on the accelerator pedal. Were
his heart being monitored it would register levels three times its normal rate.
As he popped the clutch James' helmet jerked
backward and banged on the rollbar. Immediately the discomforts of his churning
stomach and splitting heachache were obliterated in billowing clouds of tyre
and oil smoke and the crescendo of noise from 12,500 collective horsepower.
As the pack erupted forward in a melee of
shaking metal and spinning rubber that spanned the full width of the road
James' gloved right hand flicked the tiny gearlever from first into second,
then third, while his left hand remained firmly clenched on the small, thickly
padded steering wheel. His large racing shoes, with the toes cut away so he
could operate the pedals in the narrow footwell, tapped out a frantic tattoo on
the clutch and accelerator.
The March slingshotted forward with tremendous
velocity, then slowed abruptly as James' right foot stomped hard on the brake
to negotiate Monaco's first corner, the Ste Devote hairpin. There were 78 laps
to go but already his driving suit was soaked with persperation and the sweat
was pouring off his forehead beneath his fireproof balaclava.
While Jackie Stewart went on to an untroubled
win at Monaco, his 25th world championship victory in 90 Grand Prix
appearances, James Hunt was classified ninth at the finish of his first Grand
Prix, though his car did not take the chequered flag.
When the engine in his March blew up on the
73rd lap James, who had been running as high as sixth, was not unhappy to end
what had become an ordeal that left him white-faced and trembling with
exhaustion.
"I was going well for the first third of
the race, then suddenly it hit me. I couldn't drive at that pace any more. I
was simply going to drive off the road. The heat plus the physical effort of
driving the car had me completely knackered."
But he recovered quickly and James was the ringleader of a riotous celebration that went on until dawn aboard 'The Southern Breeze' where the tumult and the shouting was made all the more satisfying since it annoyed the F1 establishment that had previously greeted the arrival of the upstart team with hoots of derision.
-excerpt from James HUNT, The Biography - by Gerald Donaldson
available in print and eBook editions from Amazon and others...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/James-Hunt-The-Biography-ebook/dp/B00AQK80OC
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