01/07/2004
FEATURE BY CHRIS BALFE
In November 2002 I had a number of telephone conversations with Bernie Ecclestone. In short - no pun intended - he wanted a favour done.
I won't shed any further light on what the favour involved, needless to say that I hope Bernie and I both go to our (respective) graves without revealing what really happened in a public convenience in Great Yarmouth shortly afterwards, and why £40 changed hands.
At the time I was feeling down, quite simply I had run out of money and had decided to shut down pitpass. Bernie was suffering his very own 'annus horriblis' with Michael Schumacher and Ferrari dominating the World Championship to such good effect that they could manipulate results - and how - causing viewers to switch off in their millions.
In an attempt to get F1 back on the rails and to woo back the fans, Bernie had attempted to get the various team bosses to work with him and Max in an attempt to give the sport back its credibility.
We talked about various things, including our shared admiration of comedians Jackie Mason, Phil Silvers and Robin Williams. Talking of comedians, I felt I had to grab the bull by the horns and ventured to ask how the meetings with the team bosses were coming along.
I wasn't taping the conversation - note conversation not interview - but I do clearly remember that he used the words "bunch", "of" and "wankers".
At this time, Bernie was 71 and had undergone heart surgery. Contrary to what he may have us believe, and despite the fact that he has some contracts signed up for the next one-hundred years, Bernie is not immortal. There are days when he feels his age just like the rest of us.
One particular conversation ended with him saying that he would get back to me within a week or two. "I just need a little time," he said, "as soon as I come up for air, I'll call you."
This was a side of Bernie that many people never see, or even imagine exists. This was a man that was gradually being worn down.
If Formula One were a pantomime - stop tittering - Bernie and Max would be cast as the wicked step-sisters, the evil harridans that everyone loves to boo and hiss.
Yet what of the men that run the teams that make up the Formula One World Championship?
A more self-centred, selfish, greedy, self-obsessed, arrogant, ego-centric bunch of characters you could not wish to meet. Each of these men, even those that don't own teams but merely 'manage' them, is fabulously wealthy, way beyond their wildest dreams. Yet none of them is ever satisfied.
It's oft been said that these individuals cannot even agree on what sort of mineral water to have on the table at conferences - so what hope is there of resolving some minor matter, such as the future of Formula One?
Max, contrary to popular opinion has not made millions from F1, unlike the team bosses. He gets a salary, and even has a chauffeur, but he is not part of the F1 'gravy train'. Indeed, I understand that when he first took over the presidency of the FIA he made a trip to Spain. Arriving late at night, he simply wanted to get a taxi to his hotel and call room service for a sandwich in order that he'd be fully prepared for the next day's meeting. However, the Spaniards, used to dealing with Jean-Marie Ballestre, had all their dignitaries at the airport waiting for him, and subsequently whipped him off to a 5-star hotel and a banquet. That might have been Jean-Marie's style, it wasn't Max's.
Again, Max's personal fortune comes from his family, and has nothing to do with F1, therefore those beleaguered fans that believe Max, like so many others, has grown wealthy by screwing the sport out of every penny, are barking up the wrong tree.
Bernie is the hard-nosed street fighter, Max, his ally, is the witty, debonair intellectual. Together they make a formidable partnership.
For the sake of F1, and indeed motorsport, Max was willing to take on all comers, the European Union being a prime example.
However, when it comes to the team bosses, I believe he has finally reached the end of the line.
Hopefully he will reveal more at tomorrow's press conference, or maybe we'll simply have to wait until the official autobiography.
The simple truth however, is that at 64, Max wants to start enjoying his life. His children have grown up and left the fold, as children are meant to. So why would he wish to continue with this other bunch of selfish, whinging, petty minded babies that want everything handed to them on a plate and steadfastly refuse to give anything in return.
Personally, I believe Max is standing down because he's sick to bloody death of the people he's dealing with, people he's trying to help, but who won't help themselves.
And who can blame him?
Chris Balfe
Editor