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It's an interesting book and talks about that kind of stuff in fact. It's worth noting of course that RBR 2010/McLaren 2007/Mercedes 2014-2016 intra-team title fights are generally rare so it doesn't come up much. Priestley discusses that teamwork in 2007 was a laughable concept: they completely, utterly forgot about Ferrari, and a lot of people had to kiss and make-up within McLaren long after Alonso had left.
I've no idea what arrangements are now; they might've done away with it. Irvine I know used to get rewards when Schumacher won, explicitly. I know Mercedes now have a generic win bonus, whichever driver wins.
Alonso tried to personally reward his side of the garage when they had success, but the team did not allow it, conscious that the us vs. them within McLaren was getting serious.
The following is an excerpt from The Mechanic by Marc Priestly. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Mechanic-Secret-World-F1-Pitlane/dp/178729000X
It deals with this specific incident and brings a first person account of what happened.
>At circuits like in Hungary, being the car at the front of the pitlane queue to go out meant a driver could get on track for Q3 earlier and might gain an extra lap of fuel burning depending on where they were in the order. To make this fair, at McLaren we would take turns between our drivers in who would line up first at each event. At the Hungaroring it was Fernando’s turn to go first on the clear track, his turn to try for that extra lap of fuel. Lewis had been looking strong through practice and was dialled into the circuit nicely, his focus seemed to have reached new levels. It was no stretch to say that he honestly believed he could become World Champion in his very first season in the sport. Having safely sailed through to Q3 in dominant fashion, Lewis, controversially aided by his race engineers and mechanics, broke from the agreed plan and left the garage first to queue up at the end of pitlane ahead of the final session of qualifying. Fernando’s team was angry and confused, but there wasn’t time to discuss what was happening. Instead they followed suit and lined up behind him at the end of pitlane, waiting for the green light to start the session. There was lots of frantic radio traffic. Some people assumed it was just a mistake and that Lewis would move over, allowing Fernando past as they got going, but confusion turned to frustration as the lights went green and Lewis sped off into the distance. He’d gone rogue.>"It was difficult to calm Fernando down; Lewis wasn’t playing the game, which chimed perfectly with his growing paranoia of a wider conspiracy against him. Instead he’d blatantly ignored numerous clear and increasingly stern instructions from the pit wall to switch positions. ‘Lewis, this is not what we agreed!’ he was told. ‘You need to let Fernando through!’ The silence was deafening. Lewis’s move gave him a race strategy advantage, with an extra lap’s fuel, and Fernando knew it. His angry radio rampage continued and at the first pitstop for new tyres a slanging match broke out between Fernando and the pit wall about what had happened. ‘What’s he doing?’ yelled Fernando. ‘This is not the plan! Can somebody tell him?’ His engineer explained that Lewis had gone off on his own accord, and the first flying laps took place with the young upstart emerging on provisional pole position, but there was one more planned tyre pitstop for each driver before the final laps took place. Everybody knew that this was the best and only remaining shot at the pole spot, and I remember waiting in the pitstop area, nervous with the increasing tension in the garage, irate radio chatter burning my ears. I was part of the right rear wheel crew in pitstops at that time. Fernando’s car approached and stopped accurately on the marks. The wheel guns fired. Wheels came off. New ones went on. The guns fired again and our job was done; it had been controlled and slick. Perfect, in fact. We’d already told Fernando on the radio that we needed him to hold for twenty seconds after the change. That would allow us to release him into a clear gap. He would be on track at the fastest point in the afternoon, the last moments of the session. It was perfectly normal procedure and this window had been calculated with a typically McLaren-esque act of precision timing. I knelt a foot from the stationary car, the engine loud, the sound of it rumbling through my bones. Heat emanated from the burning brakes and exhausts, cooking me through my fire suit. I was waiting, waiting, waiting. The radio in my ear began counting down: ‘10 … 9 … 8 …’ The count was going directly into Fernando’s ear too. ‘7 … 6 … 5 … 4 …’
>Lewis had arrived behind us, queuing for his pitstop as we knew he would, his engine growling. ‘3 … 2 … 1 …’ The Chief Mechanic lifted the lollipop, releasing Fernando’s car for his final run … … But nothing happened. The pit wall told Fernando to go, the mechanics beckoned him to get on with his lap. A few seconds passed –what’s going on? Lewis revved his engine in the car behind, shouting on the radio. At first I had no idea what was happening. I wanted to lean in to Fernando and tell him to go myself. Mate, what are you doing?! Then it dawned on me: This is deliberate. Fernando knew exactly where Lewis was, he could see him in his mirrors. He knew exactly how long was left of the session and how long it took to get around the circuit to start a flying lap before the chequered flag came out. He waited and waited. More seconds ticked away. We could do nothing but wait and frantically wave at him to go. Eventually, a full ten seconds after the lollipop was lifted, Fernando screeched away. Lewis’s car was quickly serviced in the pitstop as he swore and screamed obscenities across the airwaves. All of us were aware of the time left in the session; we understood the cars would now be at their lightest, running on fresh, grippier tires. The circuit was at its most ‘rubbered-in’ and yielding the fastest lap times of the weekend so far. This was Lewis’s last shot at a pole-position lap and everybody knew it, especially Fernando. The only question was: would he now make it to the start line before time was called on qualifying? The pitstop timings had been calculated with precision accuracy. One radio channel fell silent, the other, Lewis’s, was busy –shouting, arguing, questioning. The engineers tried to calm him down, to focus him on getting round his out lap as quickly as possible before the chequered flag dropped. Once that happened, Q3 was over, and with it Lewis’s chance for pole position. There was no time for the normal careful and meticulous tyre preparations, bringing the new rubber up to the optimum temperature with burnouts, weaving and heavy braking to generate the maximum grip needed; instead Lewis had to go all out to beat the flag. His head seemed to drop, he wanted to give up on his final shot, but the pit wall reckoned there was still time to make the cut; they wanted Lewis to get his head down and drive. We could discuss the brinkmanship afterwards.
>They were wrong. Lewis didn’t make it. Fernando crossed the line to start his flying lap with just one second to spare before the chequered flag came out. Lewis was two and a half seconds behind. On one level I was seriously impressed that a driver could calculate in his head, with that accuracy, the time needed to hold his teammate up, stalling for long enough to prevent Lewis from getting to the line in time, while still scraping through himself. On the other, I was appalled. Our drivers, the figureheads of our team, the guys we looked up to for leadership and inspiration, had behaved so childishly. Ron felt the same. His reaction was beamed across the world on TV screens, as Alonso’s trainer, Fabrizio –the nearest cat to kick –bore the full brunt of his anger. I could see at times, the ‘inner Ron’ desperately tried to regain control in front of the cameras, but rage and anger was sketched across his face, he was on the edge of losing control and Fabrizio could surely have had no doubt about it. Lewis returned to the pits while Fernando completed his lap. To add insult to injury, he stuck the car on pole, while Lewis was pushed back to P2. The reaction inside the garage was really strange. One half was delighted to be in pole position, though unsure whether to celebrate because of what had just happened. The other half was fuming. There was a sense of resentment and anger between the two groups, though nobody vocalised it yet. From that moment on, the two factions didn’t mix, as they normally would. Instead they kept to their own sides, discussing the incident passionately among themselves. I normally liked to wander through the garage after qualifying was done, congratulating everybody, thanking them for their efforts, on both sides. That day, I didn’t know what to do. Nobody did."
There's this - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Mechanic-Secret-World-F1-Pitlane/dp/178729000X
"Bernie" Ecclestone ran F1 for nearly 40 years and made it the global success it is today. He was a dictator and everyone did what he said or they'd regret it in one way or another.
Ferrari are the only team to have competed in every year of the F1 championship. They are the most successful team in F1 history and act like babies when things don't go their way by threatening to leave the sport. They never have and never will.
Hunt vs Lauda clash of the titans
FIA = rule makers and enforcers
FOM = "Owners" of F1 and the company that makes the money and awards prize money.
(they are separate entities. the former based in Paris, the latter in London)
F1 Fandom rules: If my guy did it, it was legal and brilliant and you are over reacting/if my guy didn't do it, it's illegal and dirty and a penalty should be given.
GOAT = greatest of all time
Kimi = BWOOOOOOOAH!
Pastor Maldonado = former F1 driver that crashed a lot and looked like an evil hitman
The Mechanic by Marc Priestly inside story of a mechanic who worked for McLaren 2001-2009
Pit Stop: The Secret World of the F1