From the Pulpit

Flashback 18 months, to the summer of 2004. David Coulthard is not happy. Okay, he has won 13 Grands Prix and has stood on countless Grand Prix podiums - and he is, of course, a wealthy man. He has a gorgeous girlfriend, too - a Brazilian model, no less, who goes (no, make that sashays) by the exotic name of Simone Abdelnour.

But, on the other hand, he is in the last knockings of his ninth and last season for McLaren-Mercedes, and his F1 future does not look bright. What's more, he knows it.

The September 2004 edition of F1 Racing carries a cover-line that underlines the dilemma David faces. It reads: "Can DC survive in F1? It looks like Jaguar Racing or nothing..."

In the end, it's Jaguar Racing which fails to survive - and DC who bags the number-one drive for the team that Jaguar Racing eventually becomes: Red Bull Racing.

That, then, was then. This, now, is now. And DC's now is a very good now. A very good now, indeed. And - yes, I admit it - it's a far better now than I ever thought was possible for him... as a Formula One driver, post-McLaren, at least.

As David walked into the Melbourne paddock on Thursday March 3, 2005, his familiar square jaw coated with a brand-new silver-brown fuzz - no need for shaving now the ship-shape and Bristol fashion of McLaren is a thing of the past - he was visibly more confident than he had been in years, and palpably happier, too.

Against all odds, Red Bull Racing - an Austrian team, run by Austrian marketing men whose every waking whim is spent trying to devise PR stunts that might tickle the fancy of grungy teenagers who like to mix their sickly cordial with vodka - suited him, despite his 34 years and counting, despite his carefully articulate conversational style, despite his love of intelligent debate... and yes, dare I say it, despite his greying beard.

And - lo! - he drove well in Australia, too. What's more, he scored points again in Malaysia (round two) and Bahrain (round three). After all 19 races had been done and dusted, Coulthard had racked up 24 World Championship points. And that, believe it or not, ladeez 'n' gennelmen, is exactly the same haul as he had managed in 2004, his last year at mighty McLaren-Mercedes.

No, the Red Bull Racing RB1 was not as good a car, relative to its 2005 opposition, as the McLaren-Mercedes MP4-19 had been, relative its opposition, the previous year; the difference was in the white knuckle department, in the cockpit in other words. Coulthard drove a lot better in 2005 than he did in 2004 - a whole lot better.

And he was able to do that because he felt valued. Valued, because he was playing a far bigger role at Red Bull Racing than he had ever been allowed to play at McLaren. In Ron Dennis's hermetically sealed world at Woking, drivers are drivers. You hire them, you tell them what they can (and, more to the point, cannot) do, you plug them into a magnificent racing car... and World Championships eventuate.

It works. It happened to Niki Lauda, to Alain Prost (thrice), to Ayrton Senna (thrice also) and to Mika Hakkinen (twice), and it all but happened to Kimi Raikkonen last year. It may yet happen to Kimi, in fact - perhaps even in 2006. In 2007, it may well happen to Fernando Alonso.

It never happened to DC, of course - partly because, throughout his McLaren career, there was always a freakishly quick Finn in the other car (either Mika or Kimi)... and partly because of that man Michael Schumacher, who made the World Championship a no-go zone for anyone else between 2000 and 2004.

David will not win the championship in 2006, and he knows it. But, together with Adrian Newey - the best F1 designer of his generation, whom DC persuaded to leave McLaren for Red Bull Racing - ably assisted by dozens of other ambitious Red Bull-ites old and new, he might well start picking up podiums... and, with a little luck, maybe, just maybe, a win. It would be good to see.

And after that? After that, eventually, I wouldn't be surprised to see David's role at Red Bull Racing develop into a more managerial one - perhaps via a 'player manager' stage, to borrow a footballing term. Perhaps, in truth, he's already a player-manager, for what other driver would - make that could - take it upon himself to prise F1's most feted designer out of Ron's usually vice-like grip?

And consider this. Perhaps, over dinner recently, David's good friend Gil de Ferran said something like, "Tell you what, DC, this team boss lark ain't too bad. You'd love it, mate!" And perhaps, flushed with post-'Neweygate' success, David listened. Carefully. And decided to think about giving it a go.

Come on, DC. Say it isn't so!

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- The Autosport.com Team

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