If Mika Hakkinen becomes World Champion, will anyone really notice the difference? Click to download the .avi version.


Maranello - the F1 soap opera

Episode Nine

The one about the brake problems!

Scene 1 - The motorhome of a well-known auto racing team, a short while before the beginning of the Grand Prix of Luxembourg.

A petite figure is typing away on a keyboard when there's a knock on the door and a tall blonde figure in black overalls comes in.

MIKA: Hey!
JACQUES: I didn't think they allowed you this far up the pitlane.
MIKA: Very funny. I just came to see how you were. Oh, yeah, and how's your old friend?
JACQUES: He's fine. The hospital sent him home today, thank God. He's had to promise to stay away from mobile phones for a while though. He was really peeved with me for some reason, even though I got down to the hospital to see him as fast as I could.
MIKA: Maybe he was annoyed with you for deliberately spinning off.
JACQUES: Well, now that you mention it, he did mutter something about how I had to "stay with it to the end of the season" and that "everyone was laughing hard enough at him already and now he'd never get them to agree about the fag packets". I just thought it was the morphine talking.
MIKA: Anyway, what about you? How are you?
JACQUES: Oh, fine. Although I had to go to the medical van.
MIKA: What, they didn't take you down to the hospital?
JACQUES: (sulkily) Not this time.
MIKA: Last time *I* stubbed *my* toe that hard, I had to go down to the Emergency Room.
JACQUES: Yeah, with the taxi driver after you'd punched him.
MIKA: They had a look at me too! Anyway, at least I had to have an X-ray at Spa! *You* haven't had an X-ray for six months!
JACQUES: Who's counting? Next year, I'll get to have all the medical attention I want.
MIKA: Anyway, good luck for later.
JACQUES: Thanks.
MIKA: Nice of you to dye your hair black in solidarity. I think we'll go well here, but Tom said to tell you he appreciates the good wishes.
JACQUES: Get *out.*

(Giggling, MIKA retreats and there is silence. JACQUES leaves the PC and strolls over to the couch, curling up for a quick catnap. The screen goes all swirly, as we enter the world of his dream...)

DREAM SEQUENCE 1: We are standing in a garage painted mostly white, unusual in the fact that it has a red carpet. There is a strange, bright light bathing the scene. Within the garage, a man in a bright blue shirt bawls into a mobile, whilst at the back, there is a large throne draped in ermine with several mechanics kneeling before it. One other mechanic is stationed at the entrance as look-out.

MECHANIC: Oi! You lot! Here he comes!
CRAIG: I'll have to call you back. (He shuts off the mobile).

There is a tense silence as a petite but regal figure totters down the red carpet towards the throne.

MECHANIC: (nervously) How are you today then, Sir?
JACQUES: Not bad. (He clicks his fingers.) Craig!
CRAIG: Sir?
JACQUES: Bring me a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich. Now! And a Dr Pepper to go with it.
CRAIG: Sir!
JACQUES: Someone get my broker on the phone!
MECHANIC: Right here, Sir.
JACQUES: (shouting) Hurry up with that sandwich! (To another mechanic) Where's my computer?
MECHANIC: Right here, Sir.

(JACQUES takes the laptop from the mechanic, but his hand slips and he drops it on his toe.)

JACQUES: (screaming) Get me to the medical tent! You idiot, you've broken my toe!
MECHANIC: (shaking in terror) Sir! I'm sorry! I can explain!
JACQUES: Take him away!

(The hapless MECHANIC is dragged to the pitlane and hung from the awning with a length of electrical wire.)

JACQUES: (gasping in pain) Leave him there as a warning to others.

(A medical car screams into the pit and three paramedics leap out to examine JACQUES. But before they can reach him, he catches a glimpse of MIKA sitting in the back of the car, waving a Band-Aided index finger in triumph.)

JACQUES: Forget it, lads. There's no point. (bawling) Step it up with that Dr Pepper!
CRAIG: Here it is. Sir.

(Suddenly a slight dark-haired figure, clad in red Nomex with Daffy Duck on the front, barges into the garage.)

MECHANIC: Authorised personnel only please. Move it along now sir.
HEINZ: But - Jacques! Jacques! Wake up! We need you!

(The screen goes all swirly again and we return to real life, where HEINZ is shaking JACQUES by the shoulder.)

HEINZ: Jacques! Wake up! Time to go to the grid!
JACQUES: I've told you before. When I'm smiling, you don't wake me up.
HEINZ: Sorry. But the Guv'nor's on the warpath.
JACQUES: OK, OK, let's move out of here.

Scene 2 - The next garage down, where the mechanics of a well-known Italian marque are lined up and ready, alongside their drivers.

JEAN: OK! Time for the pre-race check.
MECHANIC: (all) Si, signor!
JEAN: Back wheels! Check!
MECHANICS: Check!
JEAN: Front wheels! Check!
MECHANICS: Check!
EDDIE: Brake problems! Check!
MECHANICS: (automatically) Check!
JEAN: Get into the car and shut up.
EDDIE: Sorry, sir.
JEAN: OK, OK. (He counts the mechanics). Hang on. We have someone extra. You! Who the hell are you!
MECHANIC: (in a surprisingly high voice) New liaison from Goodyear, Sir!
JEAN: Fine. Get out there and look after the tyres.
MECHANIC: Sir!
JEAN: Everybody get these cars out on the grid! And move quickly!

(All is action, as they get the two red cars on to the front row of the grid. But the representative from Goodyear doesn't seem to know what they are doing, and is more interested in getting close to MICHAEL than in checking tyre pressures...)

MICHAEL: All ready to go.
MECHANIC: Sir. Good luck, Sir.
MICHAEL: Many thanks.

Suddenly, the 'Goovyear representative' produces a tyre iron from nowhere and MICHAEL is clonked on the helmet! He reels from the shock!

JEAN: Get that idiot out of there! Now! Oh God!

(Fifty red-clad mechanics swoop on the 'Goodyear representative' and bear him/her off to the pits.)

WIFE: (for it is she) You bastards! Don't you know who I am!? Let go of me immediately! (She shrieks over her shoulder) I'll get you one day! I'll make you suffer, the way I've had to suffer! Just wait and see!

(Meanwhile, inside MICHAEL's helmet, the world has gone all snowy and swirly again...)

DREAM SEQUENCE 2: The pitlane before the Grand Prix of Luxembourg. Strangely, the cars actually out on the track are going round the circuit in the opposite direction.

In the red-liveried garage, a spare figure has his head in his hands as he is berated by a number of red-suited mechanics.

MICHAEL: Look, I'm sorry, OK? It won't happen again.
JEAN: You screwed up the qualifying for Eddie. It's not good enough. You are meant to be second.
MICHAEL: What else was I meant to do? You sent me out first on the drier track. And I've got the long wheelbase, and the prototype engine...
JEAN: Stop whining, for goodness' sake. It's your job, remember? And we pay you very handsomely to do it.
MICHAEL: OK, OK.
JEAN: Maybe if you did it properly, we would be higher on the grid. Remember to support Eddie in the race!

(EDDIE prods the despairing figure with his toe in distaste.)

EDDIE: I'm counting on you tomorrow, Mikey-boy. You stay behind me, got it? And we'll have to sort out a press release about your brakes.
MICHAEL: (sobbing) Not a brake problem *again*, Edmund. Please! It's so embarrassing when the press come up to me afterwards!
EDDIE: You're number 2, and don't you forget it. Do you want me to go and get Jean Alesi in here? I believe *he's* still contractually undecided. Or perhaps Jarno Trulli would like the second seat? Hey! (A PR ASSISTANT runs over.) Get me a phone and a blank contract, would you?
MICHAEL: Eddie! When we were challenging for the title, that was one thing. Now we're at the back of the grid, what's the use in humiliating me?
EDDIE: Sheer enjoyment, Mikey-boy. Sheer enjoyment. Anyway, next year will be our year. And you'll still be Number 2. We're not expecting to challenge for the title this year anyway.

(Two gorgeous, scantily-clad pitlane babes wander past, pitpasses bouncing between curvaceous mammaries.)

MICHAEL: Phwooooar!
EDDIE: (distastefully) We don't have time for that now.
BABE: (waving) Hey, Ed! Come and have some fun with us, baby! We love you!
EDDIE: (turning away) Give me those telemetry printouts. Quickly.

Down in the silver-liveried garage, the press are crowding round a garrulous figure, hands waving in the air.

MIKA: ...and so then we came around the corner to the pub and there were all these women standing around, so we went up to them and asked if they wanted to buy a drink for us, and they said -
REPORTER: Mika! As reigning world champion, how do you feel about McLaren slipping to the back of the grid?
MIKA: Well, we all have a lot of respect for Minardi and Arrows of course. And their grid girls are gorgeous.
REPORTER: It must make you happy to see Eddie, your main title rival from last year, behind you on the grid.
MIKA: No, no, it's a matter of indifference to me what happens to Eddie. We concentrate only on our own racing. Anyway, did I tell you the one about the Swede, the Dane and the Estonian and the midnight blue cocktail dress? (He laughs uproariously).
DAVID: Mika.
MIKA: ...and then the Estonian says, "My wife's the only woman in Estonia who hasn't slept with Bill Clinton!" Hahahahahahahahahah!
DAVID: Mika. We must go.
REPORTER: David, how do you feel about slipping back behind Jordan, Minardi and BAR?
DAVID: It is... bad. Very bad.
MIKA: (interrupting) So then the Swede says to the Estonian -
REPORTER: Your title challenge seems to have faded away after Spa, David -
DAVID: Yes. It is.... pretty bad. Quite bad, really.
REPORTER: Thank you very much.
MIKA: Have we got time for a quick snort before the qualifying starts, Dave?

Suddenly, a hooter goes off and everyone makes for the starting grid. The press run for their commentary boxes and we shift our attention to the commentary box of a well-known British television station.

MARTIN: And here we are at the beginning of the Luxembourg Grand Prix at the Nurburgring, the crucial race to decide the world championship! What do you think is going to happen today Murray?
MURRAY: I'm not sure, to be honest. I'm not that bothered. I mean, Shinji Nakano is a very nice chap, but then so is Pedro Diniz.
MARTIN: But surely you must have some opinion either way! I think Nakano in the Minardi has to be the hottest prospect, with that fine-tuned new Mercedes engine and the aerodynamic skills of Patrick Head, the former Williams designer.
MURRAY: If you say so.
MARTIN: Let's run down the grid from qualifying yesterday! And on pole we have the Minardi of Shinji Nakano, the world title leader, followed by his main challenger Pedro Diniz of Arrows! And with a 1:18:902 Diniz is only three one-hundredths of a second ahead of the BAR-Tyrrell of Ricardo Zonta!
MURRAY: No, Martin, I think you'll find that the BAR-Tyrrell belongs to the 1997 World Champion, Jacques Villeneuve.
MARTIN: You're absolutely right Murray. Anyway, moving further down the grid the biggest surprise really is the poor performance of last year's main title challengers.
MURRAY: Well, yes, but then again that Eddie Irvine is a bit of a bad hat, to be honest. I'm not sorry to see him struggling this year, alongside Johnny Herbert whose move to Stewart has brought him quite undeserved good fortune as they challenge for third spot in the constructors' championship. It's really not fair to see that miserable individual perform so well in his first season with a new team, especially when he never has a smile or a word for the press.
MARTIN: Eddie and his faithful No 2, Michael Schumacher, are back there in 22nd and 21st respectively. Interesting to see Schumacher outqualify his teammate for the first time all season. And then just ahead of them we have Mika Hakkinen and his taciturn team-mate David Coulthard.
MURRAY: So what do you think the outcome will be then Martin?
MARTIN: Well, I'm not expecting any great surprises to be honest.
MURRAY: Neither am I. Grand Prix racing isn't really the sort of sport where we expect a lot of surprises or changes, is it Martin?
MARTIN: Absolutely not.

(There is a commercial break during which nothing at all happens.)

MARTIN: Back at the Nurburgring now, and down there on the grid we can see Michael Schumacher. To be honest, Murray, I'm not sure what Schumacher is doing in Formula One.
MURRAY: Neither am I Martin. He's really not got what it takes at all.
MARTIN: I think the eight million dollars Finnair sponsorship he brings with him is a key factor in retaining that drive with backmarkers Ferrari.
MURRAY: Absolutely. (He yawns and tries unsuccessfully to hide it.)
MARTIN: And we're down on the grid now with James Allen! James!
JAMES: Thank you Martin and I'm down here at the back of the grid for a change trying to interview Michael Schumacher. Michael, there are rumours going around that you're going to have to pretend to have brake problems to help your teammate Eddie get off the line ahead. Is this true?
MICHAEL: Urrrgh...bluuurrrgh...
JAMES: Are you all right?
MICHAEL: Urrrghhhh...... blurry world champion contender....blurry god to ged to the starding grid...

(The screen goes all blurry and swirly again and we are back in the real universe.)

MICHAEL: Blurry world championship....god to ged on wid id....wazzappenin'?
JEAN: (slapping Michael ineffectually) Where's that goddamned medical car!
MECHANIC: Er... sir... there's a bit of a problem with the medical car.
JEAN: Problem?
MECHANIC: Well, it's silver, you see. And Ron Dennis has just employed a new chauffeur. Um, and anyway...um...
JEAN: What!?
MECHANIC: Ron Dennis is being driven to the bookmakers in the medical car, Sir.
JEAN: I thought we paid Bernie to make sure this sort of thing never happened!
MECHANIC: (shrugging shoulders in quintessentially Latin way) Obviously not enough, Sir.
MICHAEL: Blurry hell....I'm all right. I'm all right! Bugger off and let me get on with it!
JEAN: Thank God.
MICHAEL: The sooner I win this race, the sooner I can find that woman and strangle her.
JEAN: Good luck! Remember to look surprised at the press conference when you hear about Eddie's brakes!
MICHAEL: Got it.
JEAN: There's the hooter! Let's go!

 

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