As Piquet and Mansell cruised round their slowing down lap on Sunday, Nigel drew alongside, pointed at Nelson, clapped his hands, saluted a great performance. He had led for most of the Italian Grand Prix, but Piquet's late race charge had been irresistible. They now stand at four victories apiece, and the Adelaide organisers must be rubbing their hands.
There was nothing for Prost or Senna on Sunday, although the world champion turned in one of the greatest performances of his life. And there was nothing more than a couple of points for Benetton, who had Fabi on the pole for the second race running. Monza was pure Williams. With a dash of Ferrari.
Monza Parco. See or hear those words, and you think - you should think - of lazy early autumn heat and dust and clamour and traffic jams. Also in there somewhere ought to be Ferraris and crowds. And you must approach Monza in a positive frame of mind, expecting to be irritated and exhilarated in roughly the same measure. While you are there, you will be conscious that this is something real, unique. If you like Holiday Inns and Kentucky Fried Chicken, it is probably not for you. Play it safe at the new Nurburgring or somewhere.
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