"From the sofa to the paddock"
My Monza trip diary….
September 6-9, 2007
On Thursday I got up early as usual to feed
the animals and say “adios” to the chickens and the rabbits. I was really
excited about this trip and what might happen over the next few days, though I
was, as always, less excited about leaving Monica and the family behind.
I got a bit of a scare when I arrived at
Alicante airport though because, when I went to check in for my first flight to
Barcelona, the agent asked me if I was aware of the strike activity in Italy… I
immediately flashed back to the strike that had prevented Glenn from getting to
Hamburg for the Blood On The Highway party back in May and I thought to
myself... ”oh no, this is God’s way of punishing me for bragging so much to my
Formula 1 friends that I was going to be “back-stage” at the Italian Grand Prix
in Monza”!!! Monza is a small village on the outskirts of Milan and it
really comes alive at this time of year. The locals don’t like the noise but I
bet they don’t mind the cash that the race brings in!
I had come here as the guest of Auto Bild
Motorsport, a German specialist magazine and Leopold Wieland, the managing
editor, had picked me up at the airport so, after a quick pit-stop (got to be
“relevant”!) at the hotel, we went straight to the circuit, which took about 30
minutes. After a minor hassle picking up our credentials we were on our
way “inside”. Formula 1 is one of the most exclusive “clubs” in the world and I
was one of the lucky few that was going to see it all from the inside and by
this time I was even more excited.
It was my first Grand Prix since the 70’s and
the first thing that struck me here, as we entered the paddock, was the sheer
scale of everything…the trucks, the massive corporate hospitality centres, the
number of people running around….. it’s a huge organisation.
The second thing that struck me was how much
it had changed from the glamorous, playboy/flamboyant days of Formula 1 in the
70’s when I raced a bit myself and, as a result, got to go to quite a few races.
With the major motor manufacturers involved, things are tightly controlled and
quite “corporate” but I had journalist credentials so, along with Leo, my
ever-present guide and guru, I enjoyed a level of hospitality apparently
reserved for the world’s media. And they were here in their hundreds from all
over the world. Leo estimated that, including photographers, there were probably
500 media people here!!
And I began meeting old friends pretty
quickly too. One in particular, Ann Bradshaw, used to sign me and Cozy Powell in
for our “celebrity” races at Brand Hatch in England and she is now the the
corporate “mother superior” of the BMW Sauber team. A gem!
I made a lot of new friends fast. I wish I
could name them all because they were all so kind and so very friendly and they
were all very interested in music so we spent a lot of time talking about the
songs of the 70’s and the interesting parallels between Formula 1 & Rock & Roll.
But more of that later…. for now, thank you Freddy, Rainer, Boris, Matt, Peter
Hesseler, Norbert Ockenga, Giorgio Piola, Ian, Ken, Byron Young and so many
more.
All of what I was now witnessing is pretty
much invisible from my sofa as I sit glued to the TV for practice, qualifying
and the races and though it was a bit intimidating at first, I was in good hands
with Leo, his assistant Peter Hesseler and their photographer Oliver Reck, as we
popped into Red Bull for lunch and Williams for dinner etc…. way too cool!
On the first night I went along with the guys
to the Toyota centre for dinner. They had invited people from the German press
and I tagged along, eventually sitting next to Ralf Schumacher who was busy
doing his “job” working with the press people, while they were busy talking to
me about growing up with Lady In Black! Interesting stories too…
So… the
first day comes to an end and I have a lot to think about…a bit overwhelming
really. But I will quickly forget the bad music that was playing in some of the
hospitality centres and especially the merchandise areas!
