Dodgy Business

I'm not a hoarder, but F1 generates so much paper that every so often you have to be ruthless. Do you really need it? No. So bag it up, get down to the tip and head for the New Year with an organised office and a clear desk.

This time, I thought, I'd get serious, go right back. But sometimes you just can't bring yourself to drop stuff into the black bag. I was stopped in my tracks by a Roland Ratzenberger CV from 1985, which Roland gave me when I first met him at the Essen Motor Show. Then by a selection of black-and-whites I took of Didier Pironi outside his Leader Offshore power boat premises in '86.

The memories came flooding back. That meeting with Pironi came about in the strangest of circumstances.

I'd just reported the Monaco F3 race and was taking a busman's holiday at the following weekend's Pau F3000 showpiece. I was travelling with Mark Gallagher, ex-journalist turned commercial man who is now running the Irish A1GP entry among other things.

Didier Pironi, Monaco 1986 © Tony Dodgins

I don't think I suffer SAD syndrome but I sure as hell feel good whenever I visit the south of France. The light is just something else, and you can understand why so many paint there. It was all pretty new back then, and we were in good spirits as we investigated St Tropez on the way west.

We arrived on the Tuesday after Monte Carlo, had a coffee outside in the sunshine, surveyed the yachts bobbing around not 20ft from where we sat, and then went for a mooch.

I recall being after a new pair of Timberlands, while at the same time thinking that St Tropez was probably not the cheapest place to buy them.

Suddenly I was gazing at the most unlikely collection of articles in a little boutique window. Sure enough the Timberlands were there, along with some fetching beachwear and, bizarrely, a couple of Autocourse annuals, an old Autosport magazine and a crankshaft...

Intrigued, we went inside. The proprietor was one Fred Presquel, formerly a full time F1 journalist who decided he'd had enough of all the travelling. That explained the racing stuff in the window. And, had I been in possession of a brain, I would have realised that Vilbrequin, the name of both the boutique and the label on all Fred's clothes, was French for crankshaft...

Fred explained that all his modelling photography had been done by well-known F1 lensman Bernard Asset and that business was pretty good. Good enough for him to do me an exceptional deal on the Timberlands. He also threw in a pair of swimming shorts each. While thanking him I made a mental note that while pink polka dots were no doubt fine in St Tropez, I'd probably not get away with them anywhere near Newcastle.

Fred started to regale us with old F1 tales and, when he was interrupted by a customer, he suggested we meet him for a steak, salad and a glass of wine at lunch time.

That, it seemed, was the done thing. This was late May, when the weather is gorgeous and the masses have not yet arrived. The pace of life was laid back. With a nod here and a smile there, Fred seemed to know most people. Over coffee, almost as an afterthought, he pointed out a building on the opposite side of St Tropez's small harbour. That, he said, was where Didier Pironi ran his powerboats.

Pironi, of course, had been teamed with Gilles Villeneuve in the Ferrari team in 1981/82. Famously they'd fallen out at Imola at the beginning of their second year together. It was a race boycotted by the FOCA teams and it had been left to the grandees, principally Renault and Ferrari, to put on a show. After much passing and re-passing between the Ferraris and Renaults, Pironi had overtaken Villeneuve on the last lap to take the win.

Gilles was furious, believing that when the 'Slow' sign went out from Ferrari, that meant team orders and that he, Gilles, having qualified ahead of Didier, should win.

Didier Pironi leads Gilles Villeneuve (both Ferrari 126C2s) at Imola © LAT

The aggrieved Villeneuve had not spoken to Pironi when, two weeks later, they arrived at Zolder. With seven minutes of qualifying remaining Didier had the quicker time when Gilles left the pits for his final run. We all know what happened. After a misunderstanding with Jochen Mass, Villeneuve somersaulted to his death and left the F1 world devastated.

That year's Ferrari was the class of the field, the first time that Villeneuve had truly had a car worthy of him. In 1980, meanwhile, Pironi at times had a Ligier under him that allowed him to perform exceptionally. One of these drives, at Interlagos, had caught the eye of Enzo Ferrari and persuaded him that Didier was a man he should have in one of his cars.

It became obvious that one of the Ferrari drivers would win the '82 world title. After Gilles' death, Pironi looked to have a clear run. But then, at Hockenheim, in wet, misty conditions in practice, he came across Alain Prost's Renault in a ball of spray and went over the back of it. Didier, too, somersaulted horrendously but survived an awful accident with badly smashed legs. Pironi narrowly escaped amputation of his right foot, and his left leg needed more than 50 pins.

Everyone assumed that Pironi's career was over but Enzo Ferrari told him that when he was fit enough, and provided he could still cut it, there would be a car for him. Nearly four years had gone by but, as we sat there in St Tropez, there had been rumours that Pironi might drive at Le Mans, just a couple of weeks away.

Time to go and find out, I thought.

Pironi wasn't there. He would be arriving by helicopter at around 4:30pm, we were told by his PA. If we wanted to come back then, she would see if Didier agreed to an interview.

Pironi was the French importer for Abbate speedboats and was also occupied by a construction business based in Paris. He had also persuaded Lamborghini to provide engines for his Offshore Leader Team's assault on the Offshore World Championship, with Pironi himself driving. The monsters were powered by two eight-litre Lamborghini V12s, each churning out 750bhp...

Pironi eventually turned up 24 hours later. More importantly, he agreed to speak to us.

The ambition, he said, had always been to be the first Frenchman to win the world championship. He had no doubts he would have done that in '82 but, three years on, the honour had gone to Alain Prost. No matter, he still wanted to return to F1. Despite having won Le Mans in '78 he said he wasn't going to do it again, that sportscars didn't interest him and that it had to be F1. The final operation on his legs had been completed six months ago and, he hoped, he might get down to Fiorano in the winter.

All this was very useful but, all the way through, I wanted to ask about one thing - Imola '82 and the fallout with Villeneuve. Gilles had been a hero figure to me and I'd read so much about his thoughts on the matter. But never had I seen Pironi's side of it. Didier, of course, had never met us, but as he lightened up and seemed happy to chat, I asked him about it.

Didier Pironi and Gilles Villeneuve © LAT

"The only person to ask is Marco Piccinini (Ferrari's team manager)," he said. "He was in charge of the orders, and he didn't have any for that race. When I passed Villeneuve for the first time, this was because he had made a mistake and gone off the circuit.

"The first 'slow' sign we got was a few laps after that, and I was leading."

The slow signs came out partly because, in the turbo era, fuel consumption was critical and the team was worried about running out. Villeneuve had been critical of Pironi for overtaking him and upping the pace, the French-Canadian slowing it down every time he went back past his teammate.

"Gilles overtook me after the 'slow' sign," Pironi went on, "and by then we knew we had a lot of fuel left because of the way we drove the first half of the race.

"You will remember that this was the race where the FOCA teams carried out a boycott. Well, I've never said this before, but we had a meeting before the race; [Rene] Arnoux, Prost, Gilles and me, in my motorhome. We agreed to make a spectacle for the first half of the race so long as our positions on the lap after half distance were the same as on the grid.

"We therefore started the real race at half distance and so had plenty of fuel. The team didn't know that, Piccinini and Larrousse (the Renault team boss) didn't know, only the mechanics knew, but Prost and Arnoux will tell you the same."

I later checked this out with Rene Arnoux who, with a smile on his face, confirmed the details of the meeting in Pironi's motorhome.

Consult a lap chart and it supports what Pironi says. Lap 31 was half distance. Arnoux was on pole from Prost, Villeneuve and Pironi. Prost retired early and after Rene had led the first 26 laps, Gilles led from 27 to 30. The next lap saw Arnoux back ahead, as agreed, and a video of the race shows Villeneuve offering little resistance.

The more cynically minded may note that Pironi was always very close to Piccinini and perfectly capable of looking at a lap chart and concocting a story. There is no doubt, however, that the first half 'agreement' was fact.

There is no doubt, either, that Villeneuve was hugely surprised when Pironi passed him on the last lap and did nothing to make it difficult. It is possible, however, that Pironi's misunderstanding was also genuine. I came away thinking I had a decent story. A year later, off Cowes, Pironi, just 35, crashed to his death in the powerboat.

Those pictures did not go in the black bag, but back in my files. Was it really 20 years ago?