Rivalry: A Formula for Sucess

What makes a great rivalry? Maybe this philosophical quandary can be answered more simply by what does not constitute a rivalry. A rivalry is not one person being readily defeated time and time again. It is not a skilled person versus and inept one. No, a rivalry starts with two people whose skill and determination are nearly equal in every quantifiable way, but one succeeds more frequently to the dismay of his adversary.

Many get their first taste of rivalry simply by being birthed. Anyone who didn’t grow up an only child can testify to the constant, unrelenting urge to compete with their siblings; psychologists have even given it a clever name, sibling rivalry. Imagine that. At one point or another you will have been edged out, shown up, or any other combination of directional words, by your sibling(s). Now, most of us grow up and learn to be happy for our parents’ other offspring, at least hopefully. But for some, the greatest rivalries of their lives have yet to emerge, some will see these take on a life of their own, to be later referred to as legendary.

I dare say rivalry spawned sport. The deep-seated ancestral urge to prove that one person is better than another has been a building block of modern society and sport alike. But one sport stands out in my mind as having the most frequent, and greatest, rivalries in the world, that sport is Formula 1.

Formula 1’s long and illustrious history is chalked-full of great driver battles, and yes, you guessed it, rivalries. These rivalries are innate to the sport of motor racing as it pits man against man in an Olympiad of nerves and skill. Sure the outcomes were influenced by pit-crews, engineers and even budgets, but in most of the greatest rivalries Formula 1 has ever seen, it has come down to just one factor, the driver.

From modern day rivalries, such as teammates Sebastian Vettel and Mark Weber, to past rivalries, such as the mythical battle between Alain Prost and Ayrton Senna, which preceded Senna’s death in 1994, there have been, and always will be, great rivalries within the sport. But, as great as they may have been, few have compared in magnitude to the bitter rivalry between James Hunt and Niki Lauda, and their savage battle for the World Champion title during the 1976 season.

1976 would become a perfect storm for two drivers who were polar opposites. The season would test both drivers and eventually crown one, World Champion.

James Hunt began his career racing Austin Minis, he was eventually picked up by Hesketh to race Formula 3. The team was sponsored solely by a rich Englishman by the name of Lord Hesketh, a playboy who wanted to have as much fun as possible; his foray into Formula 3, and eventually Formula 1, was his opportunity to do just that. The entire team was then labeled playboys and were often seen drinking champagne at the end of races no matter the outcome. Hunt had no problem fitting in with the team. After he and a teammate wrecked both Hesketh sponsored Formula 3 cars, Hesketh rented a Formula 2 car. After Hesketh deduced that Formula 2 was hardly more expensive than Formula 1, the team entered the top flight of motor sport.

Most teams viewed the Hesketh team as a joke, thinking that the team was only out to have a good time, which they were, but they did, however, have some very apt engineers. Hunt drove an impressive inaugural season in which his highest finish was second at the United States Grand Prix. This feat won him a Campbell trophy, awarded for the best performance by a British driver in 1973.

Hunt drove for the team until they ran out of money in 1975, after accumulating only a handful of wins, but somehow managing to finish fourth in the drivers’ championship. This left him without a ride for the upcoming season. McLaren hesitantly signed Hunt after losing one of its drivers abruptly to another team.

Hunt’s first win was in 1975, while he was still with Hesketh, at the Dutch Grand Prix, in which he beat Niki Lauda’s Ferrari to take the checkered flag, a feat some say showed his driving genius. Lauda went on to win the World Championship that year, thus began the heated rivalry between Lauda and Hunt.

Lauda was a self-confident Austrian and arguably everything Hunt was not. Lauda worked, and bought his way into both Formula 2 and Formula 1, taking out loans along the way to make that happen. He eventually landed at BRM in a sort of rent-a-ride deal in 1973. After proving himself, he was made an offer to forgive his loans if he would sign on with BRM for another two years. He refused and immediately bought his way out of his contract. He was immediately picked up by none other than Enzo Ferrari for the 1974 season. Lauda quickly went to work perfecting the lackluster Ferrari into a championship-winning machine. His work would pay off the following year, in which he would win the World Championship.

By the 1976 season Lauda was a proven winner. His methodical style had earned him the nickname ‘the computer,’ the stage was set for a battle of epic proportions.

Hunt began the ’76 season as a talented but unproven pilot. His driving was often as unpredictable as his life off the track. A known womanizer, Hunt was best known for his carefree attitude and self-destructive behavior, but this season would see the source of his fame change forever. 16 races over the course of nine months would redefine Hunt as a racing legend. 

Lauda was favored to win the championship again in 1976, but as the season would unfold it would become clear that Hunt was a competent and determined adversary.

Lauda and Hunt’s first close encounter would come at the Spanish Grand Prix. Hunt initially won the race but was disqualified because his car did not meet specifications, handing the win to Lauda. However, the ruling was eventually overturned a month later on appeal, giving Hunt back a substantial amount of points toward the championship, and awarding him the win in Spain.

Hunt went on to win the French Grand Prix, further widening the gap between himself and Lauda in the point standings.

The British Grand Prix would see yet another controversy between Hunt and Lauda. After Hunt won the race in England, Ferrari appealed his victory, citing the fact that Hunt drove on an access road while returning to the pits, which was against the rules. This technicality disqualified Hunt and awarded his rival the win in England.

West Germany would become the stage for which the rivalry between the drivers would arguable reach its climax. Lauda would crash heavily while racing in the German Grand Prix, held at the Nurburgring, after petitioning other drivers to boycott the race, due to its perceived lack of safety arrangements on several of the faster corners. Lauda’s Ferrari swerved off the road after reportedly suffering a rear suspension failure. The car then skidded back onto the road in front of traffic and was struck. The car immediately burst into flames, Lauda was unable to escape from the tangled wreckage until several other drivers stopped their cars and pulled him from the flames. He suffered massive burns to his head and neck while inhaling toxic fumes that damaged his lungs. Hunt would continue on to win the German Grand Prix.

Many thought that Lauda would succumb to his wounds after slipping into a coma, but after being treated for his burns and undergoing plastic surgery to reconstruct his eyelids Lauda returned to the paddock, a mere six weeks later.

While Lauda was in the hospital Ferrari boycotted the Austrian Grand Prix, claiming that the governing body was showing preferential treatment to Hunt.

Lauda would return for the Italian Grand Prix, finishing in an astonishing fourth place only several months after his life-threatening accident in Germany.

After Hunt won the next two races, in Canada and the United States, he was a scant three points behind Lauda in the drivers’ championship heading into the Japanese Grand Prix, the last race of the season.

The race was to be the decisive battle between the two entrenched competitors after Hunt and Lauda qualified second and third respectively. But on the day of the race rain began coming down in torrents. The race continued but Lauda, after completing only two laps, felt that the conditions were unsafe to continue and retired from the race. Hunt, after suffering a puncture, eventually worked his way back up through the field to take third place, with first going to none other than Mario Andretti. This awarded Hunt enough championship points to beat out Lauda by a single point.

This would be the first, and only, drivers’ championship for Hunt.  He would continue racing for several years to come with McLaren, with sporadic success. He would never again see the success that he experienced in the ’76 season. He would eventually retire mid-way through the 1979 season. Hunt would go on to be a successful broadcaster, providing commentary, and criticism, for Formula 1 years after his racing career ended. He would, however, suffer a fatal heart attack at age 45.

Lauda would continue on to win the World Championship twice more in 1977 and 1984, after his initial win in 1975.

An upcoming movie, entitled Rush, is set to portray the story of the dramatic 1976 season. Director Ron Howard has gone to great length to ensure the movies authenticity, using cars originally used in the ’76 season for many of its scenes. And if you don’t enjoy Formula 1 you should go see it anyway… It’s got Chris Hemsworth (Thor) in it.

A Testarossa by Any Other Name

In this day and age our names have lost the meaning, nay, the honor that they once held. It is a rare sight these days to see two men meeting at dawn, ready to take seven steps, turn and fire pistols at one another over the honor of their name sake, albeit it’s a damn shame.

But car companies, especially exotic ones, have never lost sight of the heritage that a name can carry. The name of a car can make or break a car, that is, if you can pronounce it.

For years Lamborghinis have worn the moniker of famous Spanish fighting bulls, names that are not even Italian, but evoke a sense of heritage, honor and tenacity, just from a simple name. A name many simply cannot pronounce.

Although there have been some simple names from the Italian marque, such as Diablo, an appropriate name for both a devilishly handsome car and a famous fighting bull; most have caused heated debates amongst car enthusiasts as to the pronunciation of their meaning-filled names.

When the Lamborghini Murcielago was originally released, nary could a single English speaking person pronounce the name correctly, the situation was only compounded when Lamborghini released the Gallardo. In Italian the two l’s are pronounced just as they look, but the double l in Spanish is read with a y sound. And since it was named after yet another Spanish fighting bull, it was correctly pronounced the ‘Guyardo.’

But recently, it seems as if the privilege of owning a multi-million dollar exotic also comes along with being part of an exclusive group of people who are able to correctly pronounce the cars name. Take the Pagani Huayra for example, even as you were reading that you were doing one of two things, either struggling to pronounce it in your mind, eventually giving up and skipping over it, or reminding yourself there isn’t even an h sound in the name. It is in fact pronounced ‘wai-rah’ which means God of the winds in Quechua, the language of the Inca Empire.

It is an appropriate name for a car whose six-liter, Mercedes sourced, twin-turbo V12 can rocket the car to 60 mph in a scant 3.3 seconds, and continue on to a top speed in excess of 230 mph. It arguably creates more wind and power than any other car on the planet, its 720 bhp is, well god-like.

Then you have the Konigsegg Agera, this may be the best example of this growing trend in supercars. First of all, the Swedish marque’s name is a nightmarish looking one to pronounce to everyone but the initiated. The brand is, I dare say, esoteric within the realm of exotics. That is to say that it is a very familiar name to those of us who religiously worship carbon composites wrapped around a high revving, low displacement power plant; but to outsiders, it looks as if it the name would more likely adorn a piece of Ikea furniture.

The name Agera (a-gee-air-a with a hard g), comes from the Swedish verb meaning ‘to act’ or ‘to take action.’ In this case the Agera’s name is a bit of an understatement. The Agera produces a bone-rattling 940 horsepower which allows the car to bolt from naught to 60 mph in 3.1 seconds, and on to a top speed near 260 mph. Konigsegg is known for its cutting-edge engine technology and it spared no expense on the development of the five-liter V8 that powers the Agera. Gone are the twin-superchargers that sat atop the previous generation’s power plant, replaced by a pair of turbos. It is rumored that Christian Von Konigsegg, the company’s proprietor, will soon launch the world’s first camshaft-less motor. The technology will most assuredly make it into the next iteration of Konigseggs.

No matter the name bestowed upon any number of supercars, I can only imagine that once you purchase one, you are escorted into some sort of back room high-rollers lounge, where they hand you the card with the phonetics of how to pronounce the name of your newest acquisition, along with the stipulation that you don’t tell poor people how to properly say it.

Whether a supercar is named after a wind god, a Swedish verb or a fighting bull, you can rest assured that the appellation bestowed on your favorite supercar is carefully crafted and represents years of prestige and heritage. Unless, of course, you name it La Ferrari. Really? The Ferrari? Real original.