Pushing The Button On Formula 1

Before any accusations are made: I have always been a Jensen Button fan. I realise this is much easier to say now that he is leading the World Championship, but Button and, in particular, his BAR / Honda / Brawn team has been a the top of my Formula 1 preferences since I first started following the sport. From the outset, I liked this at-the-time-young British hopeful, a fine example of modesty and skill which far outclassed the arrogant (see David Coulthard) and rubbish (see Alan McNish) British drivers of the time. I have always liked how Button would point the finger firmly at himself whenever he was wrong, an honesty rarely seen in this sport of rear-enders and finger-flickers. I have enjoyed the up-and-down-and-up pattern of his career and how he has revived hopes in himself just when it seemed that we had all lost faith in him. The fact that he teamed up with perennial nice guy Reubens Barrichello a few years ago gave further credence to his place in my sporting affections, and even the temptation to leave him in favour of an actual British winner in Lewis Hamilton was resisted in a successful effort to avoid bandwagon-jumping, even if this came at the expense of finally being able to celebrate a championship. So you would think that to finally see Button at the top of the standings would be a cause for jubilation.

Instead, it is not. For a wily sports fan like myself knows full well that a sportsman rarely becomes good again overnight. The annals of sporting history are instead littered with failed attempts at recapturing past glories, of athletes refusing to accept their diminishing talents and the increasingly younger competition, only to see evidence of their wilting through poor performance and, at times, undignified defeat. I can accept, however, that there are exceptions, that, only very occasionally, does this athlete recover his former greatness (see André Agassi), but for this to happen to two individuals – as has happened to Button and to the even older and past-his-prime Barrichello – is unheard of. At least as far as their own talents are concerned.

For the resurgence of the British and Brazilian drivers is not down to a hectic off-season training schedule, or a sudden injection of youth, but is simply further evidence of the huge role that mechanical engineering plays in Formula 1 success. While this is nothing new, the recent triumphs of youngsters like Fernando Alonso, Kimi Raikonnen and Hamilton gave the impression that the sport was being re-gained by the driver, and that the precisely balanced combination of car and pilot represented the sport’s Holy Grail. Instead, this season we have two drivers who, while they have enjoyed success in the past, have been dismal for at least two seasons and are suddenly good again.

The difference? Nothing other than technical expertise, mostly provided by former Ferrari technical director Ross Brawn who, upon purchasing the team for this season, brought with him his considerable knowledge, experience and contacts, combining all of them to produce a car which would make a winner out of a good, rather than excellent, driver. True, confidence in his equipment would also have made some contribution to Button’s success, but, ultimately, the driver must ensure he qualifies well, keeps the car on the road, and not make mistakes. A simple and effective guide for winning, but one which, alas, does not a great driver make.

So Button’s unexpected success has not brought with it the enjoyment I would predicted. Instead, it has cast a further shadow on the role of the individual behind the wheel in favour of boffins behind computers. And until the sport is returned to the drivers, it will fail to capture my imagination, no matter how much I like the leader.