How it feels inside an F1 media storm

The opening grand prix of the new Formula 1 season perhaps generated more column inches around the goings-on inside courtrooms and financiers' offices than about the on-track action itself - which was not the ideal beginning to a campaign.

One could argue that F1 needs to create a bit of drama, last-minute jeopardy and uncertainty, with unpredictable outcomes for the world to speculate over, but it would surely be better for all that to play out in the race, among teams, drivers and their cars, rather than between lawyers, judges and Facebook statements.

It all got me thinking about some times in my past where the headlines have been about anything other than what we'd all like them to be about: the racing.

It's easy for fans and the media to get wrapped up in bizarre situations such as the one Sauber found itself in at the first round, or the unusual occurrence of a team turning up for the Australian Grand Prix and being unable to leave the garage because it can't start its cars. There's nearly always an interesting story behind these situations, one that today's ferocious internet-based media will undoubtedly uncover, at least in part.

Intriguing though it may be for the wider world, when you're inside the team's garage, it can be incredibly worrying and more than a little distracting from the main job in hand; the job that it can seem as if the press has forgotten is the reason we're all here in the first place.

The Sauber crew had no idea if Giedo van der Garde would drive their car © XPB

How can the guys at Sauber have felt, not even knowing as practice one was under way who would be driving their two race cars - particularly since the rest of the world was openly discussing it across social media and television networks before their very eyes?

From my own experiences over the years, I can empathise. I remember a couple of situations that had me, and my pitlane colleagues, looking for reassuring answers to some worrying questions.

A few years ago the team I was with was caught up in a controversial story that threw us into a very negative light in the public eye. As a team we'd made some horrendous judgements and were quite rightly vilified across the press.

As a mechanic I'd had no involvement in the decision-making process that led us into the situation, but suddenly found myself tarnished by the negative portrayal of everyone wearing the team shirt. Everything I'd worked for in my career, the levels of dedication, sacrifice and professionalism I'd committed to, felt like they'd been undermined by a negligent few who also happened to be wearing the same colours.

I wanted the world to be talking about us in the way they talk about the Mercedes team today, respecting what we achieved, trying to emulate our success and learn from the way we went about our business. Instead we were the talk of the paddock, but the kind of talk that goes quiet as you walk by.

On top of the professional embarrassment and associated shame, there was a much more substantial fear growing as the seriousness of the situation unfolded.

It's important to remember that the employees of a Formula 1 team are indeed employees. The jobs they're doing are what pay the mortgages and bills at home, keeping roofs over their families' heads. The mechanics and engineers of the pitlane aren't in the band of wealthy playboys that drive the cars or own the teams.

Sauber boss Monisha Kaltenborn had to fend off the media © LAT

When the papers are reporting on a legal dispute between a racing driver and a team boss, or between a team and the authorities, the outcome is always likely to result in a huge financial transaction from one party to the other. "Millions of dollars" are dropped into news bulletins like it's Monopoly money, and rarely does it even raise an eyebrow among anyone with even a fleeting familiarity with the sport.

Whether or not those sums of money are significant to the individuals involved is one thing, but for a modern, financially precarious F1 team it could just be the straw that breaks the camel's back. That's certainly one of the first thoughts that races through everyone's mind in the garage as the figures are bandied around in the media.

I remember whispers throughout our team growing in potential magnitude about what the outcome of our particular situation might be.

Could it mean major sponsors pulling out? If they did, what would that mean for the team? Might we get heavily fined and be unable to pay? Could we get banned from taking part, either for a number of races or, even worse, for the season? What on Earth would any of those outcomes mean for our jobs? How could the team continue to pay us and keep us employed if we weren't racing and had no sponsors?

They were very real fears, ones that I can imagine will have entered the heads of the Sauber team in Australia. That's a team that's been famously on the brink of financial disaster year after year, and one that relies heavily on the monetary backing of its paying drivers. What if it had to terminate the contract of a driver bringing £20million to its coffers? Not only could it lose that £20million, but perhaps even leave itself open to various legal disputes from all manner of parties on top?

It's a worrying time in any business when there's controversy or financial insecurity at the top level, but when the world appears to be writing and talking about it behind your back and the speculation gets more outlandish every time you check Twitter, it's difficult not to let it distract you from the diminishing importance of the task in hand: racing cars.