Goodbye to Bianchi

Formula 1 drivers take a huge risk every time they climb into their 200mph missiles.

It had been 21 years since a driver died as a result of injuries sustained in a race, until last Friday.

Watching the Japanese Grand Prix last year, it rapidly became clear that something was terribly wrong as the drivers returned to the pits, the race having been stopped, due to heavy rain and fading light, following several accidents.

The captions on screen had briefly shown details for Frenchman Jules Bianchi and his Marussia car, but the pictures underneath weren’t of either.

Drivers pictured getting out of their cars had solemn-faced team members rushing to speak to them, and it was obvious they were being advised of something terrible that the viewers at home weren’t yet party to. Interviewed, Bianchi’s competitors reported only that they knew of the incident.

F1 learnt many lessons from the deaths of Roland Ratzenberger and Ayrton Senna in 1994, and included in that list was avoiding showing the scene of a clearly very serious accident on TV, so it was a while before confirmed information was released to the world.

As the Safety Car circulated to slow the field following other accidents, the 25 year-old Bianchi had lost control of his car and speared off track, his speed barely checked on the wet surface, to the scene of another driver’s accident, colliding with a large recovery vehicle and causing head injuries that left him in a coma for 9 months.

He finally succumbed a week ago, and on Tuesday, friends, family and the world of Motorsport gathered for his funeral in his hometown of Nice. Amongst the mourners were many of his fellow drivers, no doubt once again painfully reminded of the risk they take each time they get in their car.
v Changes were implemented soon after the accident last October to help ensure that the likelihood of an accident of this nature is greatly reduced, and the sport’s constant improvement in safety has moved it far from the perils of the 60s and 70s, when a couple of drivers dying each year, whilst shocking, was far from unusual.

Yes, the sport could be made safer still, and there have been suggestions including the introduction of fighter jet-style canopies and covered wheels. You could even argue that it would be far more sensible just not to allow it at all.

The element of danger, of driver and machine on the limit, remains part of the pinnacle of motorsport’s appeal though, and whilst deaths are clearly unacceptable, the thrill of high speeds and wheel-to-wheel racing are at the very heart of it’s appeal, to drivers and fans alike.

Formula 1 drivers pick a two-digit race number, which they keep throughout their career. As a mark of respect, the sport’s governing body have retired Bianchi’s No.17 permanently, and no future driver will be able to use it.

Let’s hope that no other numbers ever need to be taken off the list.

This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in the North West Evening Mail, on the 24th of July 2015. Presumably to make the subject clear for readers, the paper retitled it as "Danger is part of F1's appeal".

It hasn't appeared on their website so far, but if you want to keep an eye out for it, look here. On the plus side, fewer users of the internet now risk catching sight of a photo of me.

Talking of which, both column header and the "In today's edition" section in the print version are using the old picture again. Go figure.

Having watched the F1 race taking place in Hungary today, I was very moved by the drivers forming a circle before the start of the race with Bianchi's family, arms around each other, and their crash helmets placed in the middle, with Jules' at the centre. In the rapidly moving, time-is-money, world of modern F1, it was a rare moment of unity and respect.

(CD romp continues, but still on the letter A, and still on a-ha, and 2005's "Analogue" album.)

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