Reflecting on the loss of Senna

In more than 20 years of covering Formula 1, I have known many drivers die in racing accidents, and in virtually every case there were folk who, afterwards, made similar remarks - indeed, there is a tendency to analyse everything a driver said and did immediately before his accident, and to read all manner of things into his words and actions.

Over the weekend of the 1978 Italian Grand Prix, I spent a lot of time in the Lotus motorhome with Mario Andretti and Ronnie Peterson, the two men in contention for the World Championship. It was a race which gave Andretti the title, and cost Peterson his life.

'It was strange,' Mario said. 'Before every race, Ronnie and I really used to level with each other, but at Monza we never did that, never wished each other good luck or shook hands before the race. Why, I can't tell you, but it was nothing bad - just something of the moment.

Afterwards, though, it seemed to me the guy was so different that day. Just like there was something in the air. But I can't say I had any premonitions or anything. I guess you just build these things up in your mind.'

In recent days, some have been saying of Senna that his behaviour at Imola seemed strangely out of character, and they cite particularly his attitude to Alain Prost.

Throughout last season Alain, as the Williams-Renault number one, would film an introductory piece to TF1's television coverage of each race, this taking the form of a detailed lap around the track to be used that particular weekend. Following Prost's retirement, Senna took over the chore, and at Imola TF1 personnel were more than mildly astonished when, quite unprompted, Ayrton began by welcoming back 'My friend Alain,' who would be attending his first Grand Prix of the season. After that, Senna went on to say that he had missed him.

Given the turbulence of their relationship for most of the last five years, it surprised everyone to hear Ayrton's words, but a close friend of his recently told me that Senna was, in fact, missing Prost's presence at the tracks, feeling, to some degree, that he was now facing the new generation on his own.

On the Sunday morning Alain arrived at Imola, for he was to do race commentary for TF1. Ayrton shook hands with him, after which the once bitter rivals had what Prost described 'the warmest conversation I can remember.' As the events of the afternoon unfolded, Alain was devastated. After acting as a pall-bearer in Sao Paulo, he declared that, professionally, Senna was the driver he had most respected. 'In honour of Ayrton,' he concluded, 'I will never sit in an F1 car again.'

A couple of days before Imola, too, Michael Schumacher's column in The European revealed that there had been a rapprochement between Senna and himself. Perhaps they would never be friends, he said, but the rift between them, which had begun in 1992, was over.

It seemed to me that Ayrton had undoubtedly softened of late - not as a driver, but as a man. True enough, he left Mika Hakkinen in no doubt of his feelings after their coming-together at the first corner in Aida, but, on his return from Japan, he took it upon himself to go straight to the Williams factory in Didcot, assuring everyone that all would be well; the first two races might have been disastrous for the team, but the championship was not lost.

In other respects, too, Ayrton appeared lately to have acknowledged that perhaps there were other things in life beyond motor racing. Emphatically, though, this did not compromise his attitude to the job. There were very considerable pressures upon him when he arrived in Imola, for already Schumacher was 20 points up the road, and the Benetton, with Ford's Zetec-R V8, was evidently reliable, as well as blindingly swift.

At the Imola test, before the first race of the season, Schumacher came away with a time fractionally quicker than Senna's official best, but the word was that Ayrton had sandbagged a touch. He may not have scored in Interlagos or Aida, but he remained most people's firm favourite for Imola, where Renault's undoubted power advantage could assert itself.

On the opening day, Senna set conclusively the fastest time, despite feeling that he had not driven well. There were no major problems with the car, he said; it was simply that the accident to Rubens Barrichello had upset him, and affected his concentration.

Saturday, of course, was something else again, for Roland Ratzenberger lost his life in the final qualifying session. Ayrton asked to be taken to the scene, just as he did in the aftermath of Martin Donnelly's horrific accident at Jerez in 1990. On that occasion, he returned, grim-faced, to the pits, climbed into the McLaren, and later set an even faster pole position time.

Donnelly, though, had survived, whereas Ratzenberger did not. This time a grieving Senna shut himself away in the motorhome, and had no inclination to go near his car again that day. It appalled me to hear suggestions in the paddock - not from drivers, I stress - that Williams and Benetton had 'theatrically' withdrawn from the balance of the session only because their grid positions were secure. I trust those responsible have since felt appropriate shame.

That Saturday at Imola was the first occasion on which Senna, and all but two of his colleagues, had been confronted by a fatal accident at a Grand Prix, and there is little doubt, as there should be little surprise, that Ayrton was hugely affected by it.

The following morning, he was back in the Williams, easily fastest in the warm-up. Then, at the drivers' meeting, he instigated suggestions that the Grand Prix Drivers Association, moribund for many a long year, should be reformed at once, and further proposed that all the drivers should get together for discussions on safety as soon as possible. The Friday before the Monaco Grand Prix, Ayrton said, would provide an ideal opportunity, and one assumes that the meeting will take place.

A couple of hours later Senna climbed into his car for what was to be the last time. Those who were closer to him will know better, of course, but I truly saw nothing in his behaviour those last days suggestive of a premonition. Simply, I believe that this was a man at last mellowing, and one whose last hours were dominated by the tragedy of another. In the aftermath of Roland's death, it was a time for comradeship among the drivers. After Ayrton's, too. Let us soon see the reformation of the GPDA.