It's The Pits!
		by Angus Browne, Australia

Sometimes dreams do come true. Angus Browne describes what it was like to visit the pits at the Australian GP two months ago, with his look inside the paddock and a tour of the Jaguar pit complex A friend of mine won an Australian Grand Prix competition, which included two people getting their tickets upgraded from pit straight seats to a corporate box at pit exit. She also won two Jaguar caps and two Jaguar T-Shirts. And a tour of the Jaguar pit garage. Kindly, she invited me along. I've been a Formula One fan for fifteen years now, basically since the first Australian Grand Prix in 1985, which concluded Senna's first year at Lotus. I do like other sports, and find other forms of motor racing interesting, but Formula One is it. It's the only thing that will make me run from one room to another to see a story on TV. The only magazine I have ever subscribed to is F1 Racing. I've watched every race except one for the last 6 years. I even did four laps around Monaco in a transit van when the circuit had been set up for the race in 1998. In fact, although this may sound sad, I had just resigned from my job working on a tax project and had arranged for my notice period to finish on the Friday of the week before the Grand Prix, which as I lived about 2 kilometres away from the track, was perfect. Consequently, the Monday and the Tuesday were mine to do with as I pleased and I spent these days watching the mechanics set up the garages and prepare the cars. Williams were the first to finish, while the only Ferrari mechanic doing anything for some time was the Chief Mechanic, Nigel Stepney. I spent about three hours there on the Monday - this should give some indication of the level of my passion. So imagine my disbelief when I heard that I would be going on an exclusive tour of the Jaguar garage. This was, literally, a dream come true. Everything I had read, seen, heard about would happen. I would pass the magical turnstiles with the treasured pass, I would ask Barrichello to please "get out of my way, I'm trying to get through here" and I would inquire of Jackie Stewart if his dress sense is hereditary or whether Paul picked it up all on his own. Unbelievable. We met our new friend Kate, of the Australian Grand Prix Corporation at 3pm on the Friday. She collected us and off we went to the Corporation's headquarters to pick up the famous passes. There aren't that many to go around and we had to wait until some BMW people returned theirs. As we waited in air-conditioned comfort, we made our first celebrity spotting. Barry Sheene was hanging around being very nice to everyone - he's taller than I thought he was. We got the passes, turned right and before I knew it, I was waving it over the magnetic scanner that operates the turnstiles. And it didn't work. So I tried again and it still didn't work. Then I looked around and I was not the only one suffering this problem. "Great. F1 technology hey? Wow!" On the third attempt it did work and then there we were, in the 'Paddock', where only fellow Formula One insiders are allowed. No riff raff, no pretenders, no crowds. And it is not crowded at all. I must say I felt very superior to the average fan. Not very charitable, I know, but there you are. We slowly made our way down the paddock area to the Jaguar garage. Past Ferrari with their moulded plastic garden chairs (everyone else had standard issue Australian garden furniture). McLaren seemed a bit devoid of personality and people, especially in comparison to Jordan who were next door. The Jordan garage just seems to have personality. There's nothing you can really put your finger on but probably the incredible luminosity of Jordan yellow doesn't hurt, especially in comparison to McLaren. And also it seemed as though people wanted to congregate around Jordan and soak up the atmosphere. After Jordan we arrived at the Jaguar garage and who was the first person we saw? JYS himself, nattering away to two journalists. First myth confirmed, talk to JYS and you won't get away till the solstice. We met our Jaguar escort and we were given the ground rules of the visit. No photography until they said we could, no asking drivers for autographs (I actually don't fancy Eddie, but plenty of female friends made promises if I could secure an autograph for them!) And please try not to bump into anything - this proving the most challenging for me. They say that the garages at Albert Park are amongst the best that the teams visit during the season. However, to me they seemed awfully crowded. This impression is immediately apparent when you enter the hospitality area. This is where they push out coffee and lollies for visitors and mechanics and anyone else passing by. I'm surprised everyone in Formula One isn't a little porky, let alone mildly hypertensive as a result of this hospitality. There was a small coffee machine, a fridge loaded with soft drinks and Highland Spring mineral water, and finally there was large table groaning under the weight of every chocolate bar known to man as well as the contents of a Parisian patisserie. This area was being used by journalists, mechanics, team personnel and the drivers (apparently). After the hospitality area, you go through to where they store tyres and all the packing cases they use for fly-away races. This was the area which was the most crowded and we had to move aside numerous times as mechanics brought fresh tyres through the garage. I thought that the mechanics must get sick of all these hangers-on coming through the pits and blocking their way all the time, but they were extremely nice and quite courteous. They told me that that little thing I had just dropped could be easily replaced and they were sure they could get one sent out from the UK in time for the race - amazing. From the tyre storage area, we moved on to the telemetry area. A large bank of PCs (Hewlett Packard - a major sponsor, of course) for Eddie and another bank for Johnny, set apart from each other. Maybe Eddie's engineers cheat and look over at Johnny's data? According to our escort, the other teams try to cheat too. Apparently it's not unknown for the teams to scan the frequencies searching for the one that the other teams are using, in order to gain an advantage. And if you've ever wondered why the teams still use pit boards, it's because they don't like giving information away over the radio. Not surprisingly, we definitely couldn't take photos of that area., not that the screens looked like anything other than a lot of squiggly lines to me. From the telemetry area we went to the Holy of Holies, the garage itself. And there they were, the three race cars in the pristine garage, not a speck of anything anywhere. Knocking-things-over paranoia reached new heights but they quickly shuffled us through to the pit lane so we could look back into the garage. Now we could take photos. We were also told we could stay there for a while, as long as we didn't bump into anything. So I stood rigidly still and still bumped one of the engine covers. I don't think anyone noticed... It was strange being in this place that you have dreamed about for so long. I'm sure that for many people who work in Formula One it quickly loses its allure. But for the average fan who doesn't normally get this opportunity, it was almost unreal. I had to almost pinch myself and I wanted time to stand still so that I could be sure I was taking everything in. I was conscious of noting everything and filing it away as something that I would look back upon for many years, no matter what happened after. Before we knew it there was Johnny having what appeared to be a seat fitting. He was as short as I thought he would be. First he tested the race car and then the spare. As he walked from one to the other I was overcome with excitement and snapped a few quick photos of him. When they were developed I noticed that Johnny has a particularly disgusted look on his face and he is staring straight at me. His season hasn't been great pretty much since that moment. I hope it's not my fault! We made various inquiries of our hostess during this twenty minute period, which she was more than happy to answer. For instance, the paint on the Jaguars costs 650 pounds a litre, with each car requiring five litres of paint. Apparently the French Grand Prix is the least favourite of F1 personnel because Magny Cours is in the middle of nowhere and takes forever to get to, while Montreal is the favourite because of the nightlife and the track's proximity to the city itself. Melbourne is right up there, but then she would say that, wouldn't she? By the way, the members of the team under no circumstances are allowed to hand out team issued clothing. Somebody wondered how you would be caught, while someone else pointed out that having the name embroided on the front was probably a bit of a give away. While we were busy lurking and trying not to bump into anything else, the Premier of the state of Victoria came in, escorted by JYS. To be honest, in that company he came across as a bit of a nobody which either reflects poorly on Victorian state politics or very well on Formula One. I believe that it is more likely to be the latter. All this technology, money, glamour and fame would make most people pale in comparison. And the strange thing is that when he was in opposition he was, logically for an opposition leader, opposed to the Grand Prix. Not since Saul on the road to Damascus has a conversion of such magnitude occurred. He was there on the Thursday, must have thought, "This is great, I have to bring the kids!" which he did on the Friday (when we were there). Then he "just popped in" on the Saturday (just in time for qualifying) and then made a ceremonial walk down the grid before the race on the Sunday. I was surprised not to see him there on the Monday out of habit. All good things must come to an end, and so our pit visit came to an end. We left as we had arrived, having a group picture taken outside the garage. Then we took as long as we possibly could to leave the pits. I must briefly note who I saw - Eddie Jordan, Trulli, Barrichello, Norbert Haug, Mario Ilien, Mike Gascoyne, Gerhard Berger, Patrick Head, as well as many others, not forgetting Jenson Button facing the press right at the exit to the paddock. From the playboy files, Eddie Irvine left the paddock with two men, whilst Australia's newest recruit to Formula One, Mark Webber, left with a bevy of blondes. At the very end of the paddock, beyond Ferrari, was a group of about six men, all appearing to be over sixty. They had their own table including a large supply of red and white wine. They didn't seem to do anything, spending all their time drinking wine, watching the world go by and shooting the breeze. It occurred to me then that I didn't know who they were nor what they did, but I sincerely prayed to be reincarnated as one of them. If anyone out there knows who they are can they please let me know and also let me know if they need an apprentice. Through the turnstiles, hand in the pass and back to reality. Overall, possibly the highlight of my life so far. Until the next day, when we went back again, but that's another story...

Angus Browne	© 2000 Kaizar.Com, Incorporated.
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