Nigel Roebuck: Fifth Column

When I read last week's statement from McLaren, wishing to stress that at no stage, in the course of their heated radio debate during qualifying in Hungary, did Lewis Hamilton use the F-word in his remarks to Ron Dennis, I wondered facetiously if the word in question was 'Ferrari'. At the moment, after all, relations between Woking and Maranello are about as warm as Gordon Brown's smile.

Then I thought again, about what the coy F-word used to stand for in the days before you heard it on TV 10 times a night. Today, after all, it is words like 'difficult' and 'problem' which must on no account be uttered - instead we are subjected to 'challenging' and 'issue', and, as with so much else, we have our politicians to thank for that.

What struck me last week was the extent to which 'image' has become all-consuming in the 21st century. The 'I' word, one might say. At one point the McLaren statement said that 'Lewis has asked us to correct one important matter of untrue critical commentary. The team has reviewed the radio transmission, and can categorically confirm that Lewis did not use the F-word at any time during conversation with the team.'

Time was, before the teams got wise, that you could buy a scanner and listen in on conversations between drivers and teams. I had one myself, and programmed it so that the number on the screen matched that of a driver. Thus, if you wanted to listen to Nigel Mansell moaning to Patrick Head, you simply pressed '5' and waited for someone to speak, which usually took no time at all, and not infrequently entailed use of the F-word.

Go to a NASCAR race, and you can hire a scanner for the weekend, with a list of frequencies for every team and driver. Given the masonic secrecy of F1, however, it was no more than inevitable that pit-to-car conversations would be scrambled. A pity, though, because it added a lot to one's understanding of what was happening, and there was of course the occasionally delicious pleasure of hearing things said that those involved would rather you had not heard. Couldn't last.

You needed a certain amount of patience and dedication, for many of the conversations were pretty bland, and many more almost unintelligible, but once in a while you came across something to tingle the spine. Mid-race at Monza in 1987, for example, Ayrton Senna was discussing tyre wear with Lotus's Peter Warr.

The intention had been to stop for a new set, at half-distance, and Senna's main rival, Nelson Piquet, had already done that. Given that Piquet's Williams-Honda was way quicker than Senna's similarly-powered Lotus, Ayrton's only hope of winning was to stay out - but, he wanted to know, would his tyres go the distance?

After a short period of radio silence, Warr was back on the line: "Ayrton, we've spoken to Goodyear, and they say it's possible - but very marginal..." Silence from Senna, for a good 15 seconds or so. Then, "Okay, we go for it..."

Listening to this added so much to my appreciation of what was going on out there. Time after time, the yellow Lotus hammered by, with Piquet closing, but apparently not quickly enough. Then, with seven laps to go, Senna got off-line at Parabolica, lapping a backmarker, and the Williams snatched the lead.

Ayrton being Ayrton, he gave immediate chase, and even - on his rooted tyres - set a new lap record right at the end. He failed to catch Nelson by a second or so, but that afternoon was for ever coloured for me by that snatch of conversation: even as he was pounding round, I knew what he had to work with, and what he was doing with it.

As I recall, at no stage did Senna use the F-word during his discussions with Warr, but I can't say I'd have thought less of him if he had - there was, after all, a good deal of tension implicit in the situation.

That said, I can remember his using it, more than once, in a press conference - and on that occasion his ire was directed at a recently departed FIA president! I have no memory, I must say, of feeling shocked, or of any ladies reaching for the smelling salts. Ayrton, be it noted, was a McLaren driver at the time.

Ironically, it was a radio conversation between a driver and his team, at the French Grand Prix in 2003, which led indirectly to Juan Pablo Montoya's joining McLaren.

Incensed at what he saw as Williams manipulation in favour of his team-mate, Ralf Schumacher, JPM got into a colourful exchange with technical director Sam Michael, in which insults were freely traded, and the F-word used with some vigour. Other words, too.

A couple of days later, Montoya received a letter from his employers, in which his attitude, rather than his language, was heavily criticised. First, Juan Pablo said, it made him feel like a schoolboy, and then it made him extremely angry. When Ron Dennis, noting his discomfort, came calling, Montoya was all ears.

Anyway, Lewis may have disobeyed Ron's instructions, but he didn't swear at him, so we can rest easy. One would have thought that of greater consequence to McLaren folk might have been that their drivers, at a time of intense upheaval for the team, did not complement Ferrari's destabilisation campaign by falling out between themselves. It made me think of Indycar racing splitting in two, and the gentlemen of NASCAR rubbing their hands.

As it was, Hamilton and Fernando Alonso came away from Budapest with a first and a fourth place, but it could have been a one-two, were it not for the nature of the Hungaroring, which might have been designed to prevent racing. At a time when worthwhile circuits are being scythed from the championship, the inclusion of this antidote to excitement is a mystery. Location, I suppose.

Whenever I've asked Bernie Ecclestone how he can justify keeping Interlagos on the schedule, while endlessly criticising the facilities at Silverstone, he has always replied it's vital we have a race in South America. Wish he felt the same about North America.

The evolving shape of the world championship seems to me a touch convoluted, in the sense that we appear to be dropping European races to make way for more and more Asian events - which in turn are going to have to start at a time reasonably acceptable for European TV viewers. I think I've got that right. Hence, the 'night race' in Singapore next year, the eventual possibility of an early evening race in Melbourne, and so on.

In the meantime, it's off to Istanbul and the resumption of hostilities - on and off the track, presumably - between McLaren and the F-word in what is proving the most closely fought championship in a generation. The Turkish GP is now in the firm control of BCE, so its long-term survival is assured, and that's good, for the circuit is sensational.

As for the Hungaroring, perhaps thought should be given to the installation of sprinklers, for a reduction in grip tends to lead to motor racing, as last year's race demonstrated. If we can have grands prix with artificial light, it's surely a short step to artificial weather.