Bernie Ecclestone, as reported in today’s Grauniad, might have done some naughty things in relation to the sale of F1 to somebody or other a few years ago. Obviously he isn’t confirmed as such, so there’ll be no allegations of wrongdoing in these august pages. But to the untrained observer, the man’s business dealings do look a little opaque at times, don’t they? Not that I’m really interested in the byzantine machinations at the top of the F1 management structure. No, I’m altogether more bothered about the proposed changes to F1’s core ‘product’ – its racing.
In recent years, a short-arsed German bloke who I’ll admit to having quite a bit of time for, principally because he loves Oasis, has eviscerated the competition in a car whose reliability and tarmac-curdling power has at times beggared belief. Time after time, Sebastian Vettel has wrung the absolute nuts off the snorting thoroughbred that is the RB9. The drive to victory in the USA. The absurd, lap-after-lap-after-bloody-lap consistency at Silverstone. The comeback in Brazil. The pass from miles back, around the outside of a bemused, struggling Hamilton, under Singapore’s lights. It just went on and on. Both car and driver won races in the most challenging conditions, and looked almost chipper at the end. More than once, Vettel reminded me of an eight-year-old lad emerging, wild of hair and broad of grin, after his first go in a dodgem. Going that fast, that often wasn’t just easy – it was fun.
And so the poles, the points, the wins and the accolades piled up, and up, and up. As the season progressed, Vettel’s lead began to take on embarrassing proportions, while somehow avoiding to do the incredible talent and technology struggling in his wake a disservice. He was better. His car was better. His car didn’t break. Ergo, he won, and won handsomely. But the people, they wanted more. They wanted competition: wheel-to-wheel, Mansell-vs-Senna-down-to-Ascari madness... and they weren't getting it.
Speaking of Mansell, Our Nige dominated the 1992 season, winning the first six in a 16-race season by margins. In doing so, he made Senna and Prost look like chancers, and McLaren and Benetton appeared positively backward. The backlash experienced by Vettel as his dominance increased last year bred envy, which might have something to do with his single-minded, arguably slightly cold public persona. There are several drivers in the paddock I could happily go for a pint with (viz: Webber, Alonso, and if I had a week off to recover afterwards, Raikonnen) but Vettel? Maybe not. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, and clearly knows his Supersonic from his Shakermaker, if you know what I mean, but he might just be a bit, well, German for some people.
I fully expect this situation to continue into 2014. Vettel’s dominance is in many ways more ominous than that of Schumacher – who crashed into those he couldn’t catch, and was really run ragged by Mika Hakkinen alone during his six years as the sport’s apex predator. Vettel is younger, and is consistently thrashing a stronger field than Schumacher did. Schumi reigned during a period when brute grunt – sheer horses in harness – won races; when the number of torques spat out on the grid often dictated the number of points awarded at the end. Nowadays, the crazy-haired geniuses in Oxfordshire wind-tunnels decide things – aero performance is key. KERS, DRS and all that are mere distractions, adding a faint sense of unreality and more than a whiff of videogame power-up logic to the racing. As a spectacle, it’s got brighter, but duller.
F1’s sharks believe that the technology bleeping away under all that carbon fibre must move forward, or no-one will watch their global superbrand’s travelling circus. With Little Seb winning at a canter every weekend, F1’s very own PT Barnum, Bernie Ecclestone, clearly had to convene the Powers That Be and decide to do about all of this tiresome predictability. After what one assumes would be considerable deliberation, the latest in a sequence of technological restrictions and rule changes was announced. Fanfare if you please – it’s time for Uncle Bernie’s Big Shake-Up.
As Patrick Head would probably put it, things done changed all over this biatch, basically. The engines in 2013’s cars were 2.4l, 760bhp beasts. 2014’s are 1.6s – that’s a mid-range Polo to you and me. Disturbingly, they’ll still kick out 600bhp, but as they’re still naturally aspirated, they’re set to whine like the world’s largest motorcycle display team composed entirely of wasps. They will probably reach peak revs at 20-22,000, with most ‘perfect’ changes happening at 18,000. 2013’s peaked at 19,000. Roughly translated, that means ‘Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeoooowwww!’ All the time.
There’s also a new Energy Return System to replace DRS, which produced an extra 60bhp for six seconds per lap in 2013, the new ERS will generate 180bhp for THIRTY THREE (possibly trouser-soiling) seconds per lap.
All the cars must have a faintly ridiculous eight forward gears instead of seven, for every race. The teams must also decide what their gear ratios are before the start of the season and then stick to them. This is designed to even up the differences in acceleration and top speed between the fastest and slowest cars on the grid, and kind of makes sense.
The big one: in 2013, fuel use was unlimited, with cars typically glugging down 160kg per car per race. In 2014, the cars will be limited to just 100kg per race, a reduction of 40%-ish. Obviously the fuel is one of the heaviest parts of the car, and combined with the 20% reduction in weight by dint of the smaller engine, these things are going to start races light, and only get lighter. This might be why the larger drivers have started complaining that they may soon be too heavy to drive the things.
Mark Webber (who is at my estimate 6’4, and built like a boxer) quit because of the fuel and weight restrictions. They will doubtless lead to teams telling drivers who could potentially challenge for a podium or the lead to back off, for fear of not finishing at all. As Webber said on Top Gear the other day: “What’s the point of driving a super-lightweight car with a massive turbo on it at 70% for the last 20 laps of the race? Not for me, mate.”
The FIA’s prediction is the cars will be 3 seconds a lap slower, but much closer together. Time will tell...
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