Ayrton Senna: separating the man from the myth

We remember him as the greatest driver ever. Handsome, enigmatic, charming, focused and wronged by the crooked system. But how was Brazilian maestro Ayrton Senna viewed at the time he was racing?

It is 20 years ago since the worst weekend in Formula One culminated with the shocking and sudden death of Senna. An incident so shocking and sad that it had clouded the way we remember the Brazilian.

As a young boy who hoarded magazines and books, and who now has access to YouTube, it is fascinating to look back on Senna’s career and look at how he was viewed at the time.

The most jarring aspect is how much Senna was disliked, at least initially. His fellow drivers feared his on track aggression, and the elder statesmen were positively scathing in their appraisal of him.

Jackie Stewart, a man who spent his youth burying friends who had died on the track, could not fathom Senna’s gall. That he would willingly and repeatedly place his car in a position where the other driver would either crash or need to take evasive action was frowned upon.

He was certainly idolised in his home country and also in Japan, but by that token it is worth noting that every driver was idolised in Japan, and arguably still is! The consensus among the press pack, which largely dictated paddock opinion, was that Senna’s on track aggression and off track sullenness was bad for the sport.

Oh yes, the sullenness! Senna conducted his affairs with a seriousness befitting a religious experience (more on this later). He was rarely light-hearted, joking or indeed smiling. There was a complete lack of joy in his racing and there was much more attention paid to the more ebullient Nelson Piquet, the spirited Nigel Mansell and the charming Alain Prost.

Indeed Prost is the most fascinating aspect of Senna’s career. For without Prost to defeat, it is arguable that Senna would not have reached the peaks he did. It is easy to forget just how good the Frenchman was – blistering fast and methodically clever in his driving.

Just how fast he was is underlined by the fact he was consistently faster then Senna. I’ll say that again a different way, Senna was slower than Prost!

However, there is an enormous caveat on this.

In qualifying, Senna was the faster man. On cold tyres, Senna was faster. Full tank of fuel? Senna quicker again. And most significantly, going through backmarkers, Senna was considerably faster than Prost.

But in a race, on a clear track, warm tyres and low fuel – Prost could deliver consistently faster laps then Senna ever could.

Their time together at the top was enormously acrimonious but grippingly exciting. The two men were so different by nature, and had different driving strengths, and to watch two colossal giants of the sport at each other’s throats was utterly compelling.

Prost deserves higher regard than how he is remembered. Had he raced in the era of Schumacher, with blue flags clearing backmarkers, tyre warmers, refuelling and unlimited testing, he would have won championship after championship. If ever a man was born in the wrong era, it was Prost.

So Senna was slow and unliked, then how did he become a legend?

The turning point in Senna’s career was ironically when his McLaren was superseded by the Williams Renault. Stuck in a slower car, he produced some of the most remarkable victories against the odds in the annals of the sport. The fans loved it.

He won even more fans by his incredible bravery in protecting the life of young Erik Comas at Spa 1991. He rushed across a live track, through heavy dust and debris, to disable the engine of the unconscious Frenchman’s Larousse and save him from a potentially deadly fire.

This all coincided with Senna maturing in his early 30s and becoming more confident in his English. Suddenly the reporters who had spent years dealing with a softly spoken dour young man, were realising the warm charm and humour that had only been seen by Portugese speakers.

They also began to realise that he would give deep considered answers to their questions and consider issues far deeper than the normal PR friendly foam. Religion, integrity and honour, not just gear ratios and brake bias.

But what sealed the deal was that he made considerable noise about the modern cars that found a sympathetic ear with the sport’s purists. The active suspension and traction control were taking away the fundamental skills that separating the good drivers from the great.

By the time of his death he was the elder statesmen of the grid, respected if not adored by his peers loved by fans as the champion of pure driving.

Which brings us to his driving. If you have never seen Senna drive a lap, then take two minutes to watch this video. It is from 1985 Australian Grand Prix qualifiers. I was seven years old at the time and this was the first time I had ever watched a Formula One session.

You have now seen a man ride a 1400 bhp bull at 200 kilometres an hour. The thing is forever twitching underneath him as he throws it into blind corners surrounded by concrete. Watch the other drivers dive out his way. Listen to the astonishment in James Hunt’s voice as he goes faster than anyone had expected.

Ayrton Senna drove like that all the time.

I fell in love with the sport largely based on that lap. The sight of him throwing that Lotus through the first chicane is seared into my mind and brings a wry smile every time I recall it. Any race that had Senna in it was assured of having at least one man driving a car in the most beautiful fashion imaginable.

I still wake up at ridiculous hours to watch today’s champions, largely in the hope that I will see something approaching that magnificence.

May 1 marks 20 years since his death. Rather than remember the impossible sadness of that day, I will be remembering him hitting the track with four minutes to go in qualifying, with sticky tyres, a splash of fuel and an engine tuned for one screaming lap.