What a regretful Senna misunderstanding revealed about his approach to F1

My relationship with Ayrton Senna started brilliantly but took a sudden nose-dive from which it never fully recovered. It remains one of my greatest regrets.

The connection began on 2 November 1985. Senna had won pole position for the first Australian GP in Adelaide and completed the post-qualifying press conference. With the championship decided and this being the final race, very few European journalists had made the long trip. I found myself as one of a handful of people accompanying Ayrton as he took a lengthy and pleasant walk back to the Lotus motorhome via the horse racing course that formed the circuit’s hub. It was an ideal opportunity to sound him out about an interview for Life magazine.

“No problem,” he said. Having established that we both lived in Surrey, it was agreed to meet at the house Senna was renting in Esher.

Ayrton was sharing a detached new-build in a posh cul-de-sac with fellow Brazilian Mauricio Gugelmin and his wife, Stella. The property was unfurnished, which was evident by a lounge populated only by Senna’s remote-controlled model aircraft neatly parked across the powder-blue carpet. A basic picnic table in the kitchen seemed to be the house’s focal point. It made an informal setting for a relaxed chat, eased by the Gugelmins joining in with cheeky comments.

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The lengthy interview could not have gone better. I had established early contact with a driver who had won his first two GPs in 1985 and was clearly going places. Life made a fine job of what I felt was a positive feature spread across several pages. Roll on the 1986 season.
The first race was in Rio, the clamour around the latest Brazilian hero being exacerbated by Ayrton celebrating his 26th birthday. I couldn’t get within touching distance, never mind saying hello. No matter. The next race in Jerez would present a calmer environment.

Approaching the Lotus motorhome on the first morning, I was confronted by an agitated Senna. Stabbing a finger in my chest, he launched a verbal attack. Even though English was not his first language, Ayrton could be articulate, passionate and forthright. He was all of these – but not in an encouraging way.

Senna was seething at words that, in fact, Hamilton hadn’t written but regardless it was still no more interviews

Photo by: David Phipps

I was left in no doubt that he felt let down because I had written “not very nice things”. And this, he repeated more than once, had come after being a guest in his home. I was dumbfounded. Before I could even begin to think straight, Senna turned on his heel and marched off. I spent the rest of the weekend in turmoil. What on earth was he talking about?

Finding nothing remotely controversial in the Life story, I recalled one other piece mentioning his name. Published in Autosport, Old Mo’s Almanac had been a tongue-in-cheek take on the forthcoming year, based on recent controversial events. One of the most talked about had been Senna’s effective veto on Derek Warwick as team-mate. There was substance to Ayrton’s concern that Lotus might not be able to produce two reliable cars, but he was reportedly incandescent over the Motoring News headline “Warwick Too Fast for Senna”. My column had not come close to such a calumny and I was no further
in understanding Ayrton’s outrage. Then I discovered the cause.

Another publication had run a copy-cat almanac, but without (if I may so) the gentle subtlety. Mention had been made of Ayrton’s mother becoming involved in the Lotus affair. Friends, familiar with the culture, explained that mothers are even more sacrosanct in Brazil than in the UK. While I now empathised with his fury, I needed to make the point that he had mistaken the perpetrator’s identity.

My hope was that, during a quiet moment in the motor home, Ayrton and I might shake hands and agree to let bygones be bygones

I sent him a copy of my almanac with an accompanying letter expressing sincere regret if any of the content had inadvertently caused personal upset – but adding that I was hard-pressed to see what that might be. I made no mention of either the rival piece or his error. I left Ayrton to work that out for himself. It would be interesting to see how he dealt with it.

He refused to so much as make eye contact until forced to do so three months later at Hockenheim. Early on the Thursday, we found ourselves walking towards each other in the semi-deserted paddock. As we got close, and without a greeting of any kind, he simply said: “OK, you did not write these things – but you had no respect.” Then he continued on his way.
That was it for the next eight years. It would be strictly formal conversations at press conferences, but no one-to-one interviews.

Fast-forward to 1994. Senna joined Williams as team-mate to Damon Hill. I was ghosting a post-race column and a book with Damon; I knew Frank Williams and Patrick Head well; I would be an accepted presence in and around Williams. My hope was that, during a quiet moment in the motor home, Ayrton and I might shake hands and agree to let bygones be bygones.

It appeared a truce between Senna and Hamilton was on just before that fateful day at Imola

Photo by: Andre Vor / Sutton Images

Brazil was the usual scrum; our paths didn’t cross. But at Aida in Japan, both Williams retired early. I knocked on the Williams office door and found the engineers and drivers sitting round a large table as they silently watched TV coverage of a happy Michael Schumacher receiving his trophy. Damon beckoned me to join him. When the broadcast ended, Ayrton turned round in his seat, did a massive double-take – but said nothing. I continued talking to Damon.

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On race day two weeks later, I was walking through the paddock with Damon’s wife, Georgie. Senna was coming in the opposite direction. He said “Good morning” to us both, nodded and briskly shook my hand as he passed by. Finally! Was the regrettable impasse about to end?

This was at Imola, on the morning of 1 May. It was the last I ever saw of Ayrton Senna.

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Photo by: Ercole Colombo