The dramatic start of McLaren's 21st century decline

Somewhere in a parallel Formula 1 universe, Adrian Newey never left McLaren. He never lost his mojo, never felt undermined, and was given the trust he craved to conceive, design and build racing cars to his sole vision. There was never any need for him to join Red Bull.

In that universe, Newey's first constructors' crown with McLaren - delivered courtesy of the majestic MP4-13 in 1998 - was simply the first in a string of glories rather than an increasingly stark landmark, 
21 long years later, as the team's last.

But this is the reality we live in. For the parallel to exist as history would have required McLaren's leader, Ron Dennis, to be an entirely different man, and therefore McLaren a different team. Dennis's unwavering, ego-driven demand for total control gave impetus to the rise of a truly great British company in the first decade of the 21st century - but in F1 his first (and by no means last) significant failure of the new millennium was the loss of Newey.

Initially the relationship showed promise. The signals were that Newey, in partnership with Ron's loyal lieutenant Martin Whitmarsh, would be the future of McLaren - that eventually Dennis would stand back. In his autobiography 'How to Build a Car', Newey recalls time spent with both at Ron's home in the south of France in 2000. A chill fell over the poolside discussion, as Newey made it clear he needed a timescale on Dennis's promise of power.

This was not the blind loyalty Dennis demanded. Was that why a subsequent new contract offer amounted to a pay cut? Newey thought so, and it almost drove him there and then towards the team that would become Red Bull, as old friend Bobby Rahal nearly lured him to Jaguar. Only a late, desperate and much-improved bid from Dennis kept Adrian in Woking - but their relationship had been severely strained.

In such circumstances of mutual mistrust, perhaps it's little wonder Dennis pursued the logic of a new engineering structure, one that no longer relied on star individuals with 'artistic temperaments'. The new 'matrix' solution (devised by Whitmarsh, at Dennis's behest) spread responsibility and promised to soften the impact of a bombshell departure. But as far as Newey was concerned, it stripped him of control.

It's no coincidence that this era marked Newey's nadir in an otherwise glittering career. The 2002 MP4-17 won just a single race in David Coulthard's hands, then the following season the MP4-18 proved aerodynamically unstable, a design misfire comparable with Newey's difficult 1989 Leyton House and the first iteration of the 1994 Williams. At least a revised version of the 17 was good enough to win the first two grands prix and, in Kimi Raikkonen's hands, strong enough to keep the Finn in the title hunt thanks to an unusually wide spread of race winners and a revised points system.

Newey's patience was spent. Following Christian Horner's dogged courtship, Newey broke the news to Dennis that he was leaving for Red Bull - and found himself escorted from the MTC forthwith

To Dennis's credit, Raikkonen was an inspired signing after his rapid rise through the junior ranks (he'd competed in just 23 car races before his F1 debut with Sauber in 2001), a like-for-like replacement for McLaren's retired double world champion Mika Hakkinen. The 'Iceman' was similarly monosyllabic in public, uncomplicated in his approach - and spectacularly fast.

Raikkonen never won again in 2003 after his breakthrough victory in Malaysia, but his consistency papered over an internally traumatic season for Newey. Having investigated and understood his mistakes, he pushed to start from scratch with a new monocoque (and to hell with the costs) - but department heads within the matrix insisted the car was salvageable. When the tech director lost the argument in a democratic vote, his departure for Red Bull shifted another step closer.

In May 2004, Dennis proudly unveiled McLaren's definitive statement of his ambitions as the company transferred to its dazzling new lair, designed by the eminent Sir Norman Foster. Doubters voiced concern over the reputed £300million cost, but Mercedes-Benz's commitment to build its flagship SLR sportscar at the McLaren Technology Centre signalled Dennis's intent, and solidified a partnership that had developed far beyond that of simple F1 engine supply. Mercedes bought a 40% share in the McLaren Group.

Still, it didn't impress Newey, who felt his creative sensitivities further constrained by the MTC's 'Orwellian' interiors. Given the team's lamentable form, it was easy to scoff. In the first half of 2004, Raikkonen scored just a single point before the MP4-19B, complete with the new monocoque Newey had always called for, resulted in immediate victory - 
and 'artist' vindication - at Spa.

The following MP4-20 for 2005 was a fitting McLaren swansong for Newey, who once again proved adept at making the most of a regulation change (a 50mm rise in front wing ride height). In a year when Ferrari's dominance was derailed by a ban on tyre changes, McLaren's Michelin-shod machine was the class of the field. The car won 10 races, seven of which fell to Raikkonen. His new team-mate Juan Pablo Montoya won three despite missing races though a controversial ankle injury ('he's fallen off his tennis racquet', was the paddock quip, in reference to a never-admitted-to motorcycle prang).

Once a potential F1 game-changer, Montoya's F1 career was losing its oxygen. He would be dropped mid-season in 2006 after announcing his intentions to set a new course towards NASCAR.

Despite the speed in 2005, neither drivers' nor constructors' titles headed to Woking, as Mercedes engine reliability again let McLaren down. Newey had plenty of time for Merc's engine builder, Ilmor, especially since the tragic death of co-founder Paul Morgan in 2001 in a vintage aircraft accident. But his patience was spent. Following Christian Horner's dogged courtship, Newey broke the news to Dennis that he was leaving for Red Bull - and found himself escorted from the MTC forthwith.

McLaren might argue its commitment to collective responsibility now came into its own. But what it lost in Newey's departure is represented in what followed at Red Bull: as McLaren's form fluctuated season to season, Newey and Horner built a finely honed squad focused around the star designer's vision - and delivered the soft drinks brand four consecutive drivers' and constructors' world titles.

In contrast to Dennis, Horner has kept his star asset settled and happy. As they enter their 14th season in partnership, Newey enjoys control and stability that he found impossible to get at McLaren.

Mosley had always been open in his antipathy for the McLaren boss, and would later admit of the Spygate fine that "$5million was for the offence, $95million for Ron being a twat"

Following this blow, both Montoya and then a disaffected Raikkonen moved on during the course of a winless 2006, as the team entered one of its most tumultuous and dramatic chapters.

The world had known since December 2005 that Fernando Alonso would join McLaren in '07. Yet it was no distraction to the Spaniard as he saw off Michael Schumacher to claim a second consecutive world championship for Renault in '06, and his choice of new team appeared sagacious when the MP4-22 flew out of the box. What he could never have accounted for was his new rookie team-mate.

Lewis Hamilton had become a Dennis 'project' after the child karting star gamely approached him at the Autosport Awards. The rise through the junior car racing ranks was carefully managed, at times to a point of tension, but it worked for Lewis in the long run. By 2006, he convinced McLaren to show the ultimate faith - and happened to catch the team on the rise. Lando Norris will require significantly more fortune to prove so lucky in 2019.

From the first race, in Australia, Hamilton hit the ground running - reaping the rewards of surely the most comprehensive rookie preparation programme ever. Still, kicking off with nine consecutive podiums was unheard of, and his eventual four wins and final points tally exactly matched and ruffled Alonso. The champion was angry - at Dennis, whom he felt had gone back on his word. The promise had been precedence over the rookie, but when he made it the boss could never have imagined how well his young prodigy would start. When a tit-for-tat squabble between the drivers for track priority in qualifying broke out at the Hungaroring, the tension spilled
 into a crisis of unimagined magnitude.

That summer, McLaren had already been cleared of wrongdoing, following the so-called 'Spygate' scandal when chief designer Mike Coughlan's wife handed confidential Ferrari papers in for photocopying in a Surrey high-street shop. Coughlan and Ferrari's Nigel Stepney lost their jobs, but the ramifications for McLaren seemed minimal. Then in Hungary, a furious Alonso threatened Dennis that he'd go to the FIA with email evidence that properly implicated the team. Not Fernando's finest moment, and he'd quickly go back on his threat - but not quickly enough. An alarmed Dennis had already chosen to head off the blackmail by informing FIA president Max Mosley of the incriminating emails.

Punishment was brutal. Not only was McLaren excluded from the 2007 constructors' championship, more seriously it was fined an outrageous $100million. "Vindictive" was how Dennis described it. Mosley had always been open in his antipathy for the McLaren boss, and would later admit "$5m was for the offence, $95m for Ron being a twat" - or perhaps something stronger. Dennis wanted to challenge the penalty in the civil courts, but was advised the fine could turn into 
a two-year ban if he did so...

No one emerged well from the mess, although sympathy for Dennis - at least from the British media - was genuine. A year later, with Alonso back at Renault, Hamilton clinched his first title, he and Fernando having let the driver's crown slip to Ferrari's Raikkonen (of all people) a year earlier. Once the excitement of 2008 had been digested - Hamilton left Felipe Massa and the partisan Interlagos crowd in tears by snatching the required fifth place to become champion at the final corner - there was also public vindication for Dennis after the toughest two years of his life, during which
 his marriage also broke down.

Just hours before the launch of the 2009 challenger, Ron unexpectedly handed the team reins to Whitmarsh, so to concentrate on McLaren's growing automotive arm, and seemingly walked away from F1 for good. McLaren was developing rapidly during these years, and with the investment demands required to fund growth, Dennis relinquished more of his share power. At the start of '07 the Bahrain Mumtalakat Holding Company - essentially the business face of the wealthy Middle Eastern sovereign state - bought half of his 
30% share.

Despite the F1 travails, it says much for McLaren's overall potential that the Bahrainis then increased that share by buying out Mercedes' 40% stake in 2009. The German manufacturer, for so long symbiont with McLaren in F1, was now backing away to pursue success on its own terms by buying out Brawn GP, which had swept to shock double title glory that year with Jenson Button. Could Dennis have saved the Mercedes partnership? As with Newey, only if he had been an entirely different man.

Whitmarsh, who - to Dennis's disgust - had even encouraged the initial Mercedes/Brawn deal, did his best to steer McLaren through the difficult years that followed. Now a world champion, Hamilton's final seasons at McLaren swung between the sublime and near-anonymity. A lack of emotional maturity made Hamilton implode from time to time, although a welcome sunny ingredient was added when Button surprised by signing for 2010.

He brought light relief, as Gerhard Berger had to Ayrton Senna and the team in the early 1990s - although unlike Berger, Button proved at least a match, and at times genuinely faster than his world-class team-mate. In their three years together, Jenson surprised most by outscoring Lewis with 672 points to 657, and famously finished ahead
of Hamilton in 2011 as championship runner-up.

By 2012, doubts had taken root that Hamilton would ever add to his title tally at McLaren, while the dry patch since the Newey-inspired constructors' crown of 1998 had become a drought. Whitmarsh was under pressure.

Always on his shoulder, and often behind his back, 
it turned out Ron Dennis still had a hand to play in
 F1 - and it was Whitmarsh who would find himself dealt out of the game.