nigel mansell

There have been 143 British F1 drivers, more than from any other country Italy is next with 83). None of them worked harder to get into the sport, few worked harder when he made it. NIGEL MANSELL "Absolutely, one hundred percent, NO!" That would be Nigel Mansell's response should one of his sons wish to become a Formula 1 driver. And midway through the 1990 season Mansell abruptly announced his imminent retirement from the sport that made him rich and famous. His decision caught everyone, including all the Grand Prix people, completely by suprise. The father of little Leo and Greg Mansell was at the very pinnacle of his profession: arguably the most exciting driver of all, idolized by millions of fans around the world, driving for Ferrari, the most illustrious team in racing, and earning more money in one year (probably close to $10 million) than most people ever will in a lifetime. But few drivers paid heavier dues than Nigel Mansell. He came up the hard way, without any money, literally breaking his neck and his back en route to Formula 1. When he finally got there his ability was often questioned, he seemed accident-prone, there were feuds with his peers (he attacked Senna physically after they collided at Spa in 1987) and his teams (Peter Warr at Lotus said he had "limited capabilities" and Frank Williams said he was "a pain in the arse"). During much of this time the press, especially in England, tended to rubbish him, labelling him ill-tempered and a chronic complainer. They wrote him off as a loser and there were often jokes made at his expense along pit lane. It took him six difficult years and 72 Grands Prix before he finally reached the top step of the victory podium (at Brands Hatch in 1985). Becoming a winner (15 times to mid-season 1990) changed both the man and his reputation. Mansell, the winner, was more mellow and mature and better able to manage the fires of ambition which, he admitted, occasionally burned out of control. If Mansell became a new man, those who wrote about him also underwent a remarkable transformation. To the Italians he became an heroic figure, in the Villeneuve mould, and 'Lion Nigel' was perceived as the prototypical Ferrari pilota. Many of the British journalists began to consider the mustachioed driver with the Union Jack on his helmet a thoroughly decent bloke. Some who formerly villified him began to regard him with what seemed akin to affection, a word that 'Our Nige' felt was not too strong, when speaking about the journalistic reversal of form a few months prior to his retirement announcement. "In the past three or four years I've consolidated my position in Formula 1 whereby even my worst enemy in England, from the press point of view, has got to acknowledge that I've at least cracked it. I've won a lot of races, I'm one of the fastest drivers in the world and I was even voted by Autocourse (the Formula 1 annual, edited by Alan Henry) as being the number one driver in the world in 1989 (Senna was second, Prost third). I think there's been a bit of turnaround on both sides. I understand them more. They understand me and we do get along pretty well now. In one word, we respect one another." Mansell's bravery, toughness and fierce, British bulldog determination had always been respected. Born on 8 August, 1954, at Upton on Severn, he first drove a car (an Austin Seven) in a nearby field at the age of seven. That same year he watched Jimmy Clark in a Lotus win the 1962 British Grand Prix at Aintree. There and then young Nigel resolved to one day follow in the great Scot's footsteps, an ambition no doubt entertained by countless other small boys around the world. It's unlikely any one of them would have persevered through Mansell's coming misfortunes. After considerable success in kart racing as a teenager he won 30 of 41 Formula Ford races to capture the 1977 Brush Fusegear Championship, despite suffering a broken neck in a late season testing accident at Brands Hatch. When a backmarker cut him off Mansell's Crossle went backwards into a bank and the whiplash "snapped my neck in a couple of places." He was diagnosed as having come perilously close to becoming a quadraplegic. "They told me that I'd never drive again and that the shortest time I could expect to be in hospital was six months. So I told a nurse I had to go to the loo, I packed my things and walked out of the place. Within five weeks of discharging myself I was racing again." He had qualified as an engineer with Lucas Aerospace, worked 15 hours a day to finance his racing passion, then resigned from his job to devote his life to his sport only three weeks prior to the neckbreaking incident. Previously, he had also sold his gun collection and some paintings to get into Formula Ford. Next he sold his house to finance a move into Formula 3. In 1979, an Oulton Park shunt (with Andrea de Cesaris), sent Mansell's March airborne and he was considered lucky to survive the huge cartwheeling crash. He was again hospitalized, this time with broken vertebrae. Shortly after this Colin Chapman summoned him for a F1 test at Paul Ricard and Mansell, stuffed with painkillers and hiding the extent of his injury from onlookers, performed well enough to be given a Lotus test contract. As he sat on the starting grid for his Formula 1 debut, at the Austrian Grand Prix in 1980, Mansell felt a burning sensation on his backside: "I had reached the point, the very minute I had worked towards all my life - and there I was getting my arse burned!" Fuel had spilled out when the tank was being topped up and Mansell was given the option of not starting. He declined, the Lotus mechanics splashed water over him and he set off. Forty painful laps later his race was mercifully terminated by a blown engine and he was pulled from the cockpit with first and second degree burns to his buttocks. Mansell became very close to Colin Chapman and was devastated by his sudden death in 1982, a year that Mansell calls "horrendous." He had grown to like and admire Gilles Villeneuve and was deeply shocked by his death at Zolder. After Riccardo Paletti was killed in Montreal and the race re-started, Mansell's forearm was badly sprained in a collision with Giacomelli. Then he witnessed Pironi's career-ending crash at Hockenheim. For Mansell, "those awful events created a terrible feeling inside me." Even when the winning started, in Williams Hondas in 1985, Mansell continued to suffer. A crash at Detroit gave him a mild concussion and two weeks later a 201mph accident at Paul Ricard (a tire exploded and a wheel hit him on the helmet) resulted in a severe concussion. Another incident left him with painfully torn chest muscles for the last half of the season, but he won two races. In a span of 18 months he scored 11 victories, yet lost out on two World Championships he was poised to win. In 1986 a burst tire in Adelaide destroyed his season at the last possible moment ("the lowest point in my career"). In 1987 it was a serious qualifying accident at Suzuka that injured his back again (a spinal concussion, more painful even than his backbreaking F3 injury) and handed the title to his hated Williams 'team mate' Piquet (who called Mansell "an uneducated blockhead" and took verbal shots at his wife). There was little joy to be had in 1988 when Judd power proved to be inadequate in the Williams cars and Mansell kept his spirits up with memories of some of those winning performances. He makes no secret of being an emotional man and that first Grand Prix victory, in front of his home fans, brought tears to his eyes. Even more rewarding was his scintillating late race charge to beat his least favourite Brazilian at Silverstone in 1987. He was simply unstoppable, setting lap records 11 times in the final moments as he reeled in the other Williams. Thousands of stiff British upper lips were quivering with emotion when he took the chequered flag. And on his victory lap Mansell stopped to kiss the pavement at the spot where he'd overtaken Piquet. His 1989 debut with Ferrari, when he won at Rio, suggested he might have used up all his bad luck, though there was more controversy at Estoril where he failed to heed a black flag, then collided with Senna and was suspended by FISA for the next race at Jerez. At that point an angry Mansel hinted that he was considering retirement, but few took him seriously. During the rest of the season, as long as his Ferrari was in good running order, he kept it right up at the front, darting about with a stylish abandon reminiscent of Villeneuve that endeared 'Nigelo Manselli' to the fanatical Italian tifosi. His brilliant victory over Senna's more powerful Mclaren at the Hungaroring (after he had qualified a lowly 12th), accomplished by one of the great passing manouvers in recent racing history (when he deked past Senna as they were lapping Johansson), was one of the finest drives of his career. At the beginning of the 1990 season a serious shot at the world championship beckoned and Mansell seemed to have everything going for him. Still, many of the scars from his previous misfortunes remained. The years had taken their toll and he wondered if it had all been worthwhile. "It's a question I ask myself year by year. The answer is ultimately found when your're in the car and your're racing and driving for a great team, like I am now for Ferrari. The answer is ultimately yes. That's why I'm still here. Beyond that I've got a lot more things into perspective now and I'm able to enjoy myself more than probably I've ever done before." Mansell's main source of enjoyment is his family. He describes his wife Roseanne (who has been with him through thick and thin since the Formula Ford days), daughter Chloe and the two boys, as "my backbone. My family is incredibly important to me." They live in the lap of luxury in a sumptuous home near Port Erin on the Isle of Man and have a holiday house on the Mediterranean island of Ibiza. Mansell has all the trappings of success (including the requisite jet and helicopter) and business interests that include a new Ferrari dealership in England and a golf and country club in Portugal. Golf is Mansell's other passion (son Greg is named after his good friend, the Australian golfer, Greg Norman) and he plays at a semi-professional standard (he competed in the 1988 Australian Open). He also helps "keep his feet on the ground" by serving as a Special Constable on the Isle of Man police force. "I've done it for over three years now and enjoy it. I've also done a lot of promotions, launching campaigns for safety and car theft and so on. Police work gives you a better persepective of life and I hope to help by setting an example. The IOM welcomed us with open arms, it's a fabulous place to bring up a family, and if I can give something back to my society through my police work then I'm happy and proud to do it." So Nigel Mansell was reasonably content with his lot in life and grateful for what the sport had given him. But he remained ever mindful of what it had taken out of him and, besides the danger, there were certain things about Formula 1 that he wouldn't want his sons exposed to. He pointed to the unpredictability of the sport and the anxiety it can cause. Then there's the constant intensity and frequent ruthlessness. "Sometimes it gets to me. There's very little morality in Formula 1 and there are no prisoners taken." "For my boys, I think there are better and easier ways to make a career. I wouldn't dissuade them from being sportsmen. What I would try and do is put them into golf or tennis, into a sport where it's more the person. We're sometimes called gladiators to drive Formula 1 cars. Maybe we are and maybe we're not. But basically we're so dependent on the teams, the engineers and mechanics and manufacturers, that it's very difficult at times. But if you're a tennis player or golfer you make it on your own near enough and your talent can cover up for your golf clubs." Mansell might one day pursue golf more seriously but, for the moment at least, the Formula 1 positives still outweighed the negatives. "There are highs and lows at every Grand Prix. Sometimes the little things can get to you, like when there are too many people forcing their way into the garage and actually standing between the mechanics and the cars, so the mechanics can't work on the cars. Then the mechanics start throwing wobblies. Our lives are in the mechanics hands and some people are totally unreasonable. It might be press, it might be photographers, it might just be autograph hunters. But there is a job to be done by professionals and to me the garage is sacrosanct on Grand Prix weekends." Professionalism is a prominent word in his vocabulary and he considered keeping his body and mind in fighting trim an essential part of the business of racing. Few drivers concentrated as much on fitness and endurance (in 1981 he saved Lotus manager Peter Collins from drowning in the surf at Rio) and Mansell pushed himself through a vigourous training regimen. To keep his head in shape he got rid of a host of personal sponsors (at one point he had 14 of them) to give him more private time for relaxation. He felt he'd educated himself to be a realist and he tried to maintain a positive attitude, a task that was made easier when his prancing horse machinery was in good fettle. "Whatever happens, I try and be very professional and treat every Grand Prix with the same amount of urgency as I can. If the car is working reasonably well, more often than not you're in a good disposition. If you're struggling, you can't get the balance of the car and so on, then everything seems to get on top of you: cameras and tape recorders always in your face, autograph hunters hounding you, and so on. Amazingly enough it can all turn around on race day and it can become one of the most fantastic days of your life!". Mansell had few more of those days as the 1990 season progressed and his world championship hopes dimmed as his Ferrari was seldom around at the finish. Meanwhile, a more circumspect Prost racked up the points in an identical machine. Or was it? Mansell began to express doubts about that and there was increasing tension in the Ferrari team. Mansell drove harder than ever and distinguished himself with at least one memorable moment in every event. In Mexico (where he finished second to his team mate Prost) he passed Berger on the outside of one of the fastest, most dangerous corners of all, an experience that left even him breathless...perhaps a bit frightened? "Motor racing is pretty frightening, period. And just looking at a Formula 1 car, let alone getting in one, can be unsettling. And then it can bite you in the ass. I will say, the manouver I did outside Gerhard at Mexico, yes, that was frightening. Because, you see, I had to force my right foot to stay on the deck, and I didn't brake going into the corner. I went in there flat, and it's a pretty shitty corner at the best of times. And, yeah, I was wondering halfway around whether the car would slide just that tiny bit too much and I would go off. But it was a calculated risk and all of motor racing is a calculated risk." At this point, Mansell was speaking only three weeks before his sudden retirement announcement. He seemed preoccupied with a summing up of his racing life and the current situation in Formula 1. He talked about the fans who pursued him, noting that some of them "were trembling with excitement" when they met him. "I feel very sympathetic toward them. I think it is important that if they think that much of you, no matter how much in a rush you are, even if it is only 30 seconds, you should bring yourself to just give them that little bit of time for a signature or pose for a photograph. And even at times a second photograph, and then you draw the line, as it might get out of hand then. "I admire people too, but I don't worship them. Admire people for what they do and achieve, yes, that is one thing, but to be totally enthralled by an individual, over-awed by them, is perhaps not a healthy thing for anybody. I've certainly never thought of myself as a hero. And it is very strange for me to think about that. I never stood still long enough to appreciate where I am now in the eyes of some people. I've only ever thought I was just doing my job. I only ever drove as hard as I know how. "On the actual circuit, I think I can, and do, deliver as good, if not better than, any other driver in motor racing today. What I am not good at, is the politics off the circuit...the underhanded, backstabbing manipulation which is done by some of the people who do succeed. I simply can't compete in that arena. If I can win the world championship simply by who I am and what I am and what I do, fine. But I just won't compete in all the polemics. "I think what spoils Formula 1 for me now, is the peripheral things. The barbed wire fences, the overzealous security people, the hassles which interfere with you doing your own job. And the easiest part for me still, the most enjoyable part, is when you're driving. But as soon as you step out of that car, sometimes it's so trying, it's unbelievable. And for no fault of your own. "You can blame progress, you can blame the amount of money in the sport now, you can blame lots of things. But I believe if people were just a little bit more sensitive, no matter what position they held, everybody in Formula 1 could enjoy themselves so much more. I think that some people here get out of bed in the morning, and no matter what hat they wear or whatever coat they put on, some of them think their job is to be a pain in the ass to everybody!" Then came Mansell's favourite race, his home Grand Prix at Silverstone. In qualifying, spurred on by the motivation of thousands of his fans, he turned in a scintilating pole-setting performance which he called "the lap of my life." In the race, in fighting form as usual, he led for awhile, but once again was forced to park his failed Ferrari. On his walk back to the pits Mansell symbolically tossed his driving gloves and balaclava into the adoring crowd. While his team mate Prost was spraying yet another bottle of champagne from the victory podium Nigel Mansell was announcing that at the end of the season he would retire from the sport. He had added up his wins and losses and decided to quit while he was still ahead.