For any team or driver, clinching a Championship in the traumatic aftermath of a terrible week would have been the cruellest kind of luck. Instead, it was left to Juan Pablo Montoya and Williams to triumph in the race that most others were probably happy to lose. And none more so than Michael Schumacher

It's as well that Michael Schumacher and Ferrari wrapped up their 2001 titles a month ago in Hungary. Earlier in the year, there was speculation that the Championship would probably be settled at Monza, but thankfully that didn't happen. For any team or driver, clinching a Championship in the traumatic aftermath of a terrible week would have been the cruellest kind of luck. Instead, it was left to Juan Pablo Montoya and Williams to triumph in the race that most others were probably happy to lose. And none more so than Michael Schumacher.

So often, the German has stood atop the podium after yet another F1 tragedy - Senna at Imola 94, the deaths of marshals Paolo Gislimberti at Monza 2000 and Graham Beveridge at Melbourne 2001, as well as Luciano Burti's horrific smash two weeks ago at Spa. As the most successful driver of his generation, Schumacher has become a de facto spokesperson and his viewpoints are taken as a barometer of feeling within F1. For once, he must have been relieved to have finished off the podium and out of the spotlight.

The reigning champion had looked distracted and out of sorts all weekend, being outqualified by teammate Rubens Barrichello for the first time since Austria 2000 and losing touch with the leading battle after his first pitstop. Mika Hakkinen also seemed relieved when mechanical problems ended another low-key weekend prematurely. With the elder statesmen of F1 out of race contention, the stage was set for the resilience of youth. With his close friend Alex Zanardi lying critically injured in hospital, the race must have been especially difficult for Juan Pablo Montoya. To his great credit, he went out and did all that he could - win under pressure with a drive of measured precision.

It's always refreshing to see a new winner come of age in F1, particularly when it's one with the raw talent of Juan Pablo Montoya. But how the Colombian must be regretting the circumstances surrounding his maiden win, particularly considering the lost opportunities he suffered at Brazil, Germany, Spa and other races. The one consolation is that Montoya, unlike fellow one-time winners Jean Alesi and Olivier Panis, is likely to win many more Grands Prix during his career - and under circumstances that allow joyous and unbridled celebration. It's unfair to read too much into the form of drivers at Monza, as all were affected and preoccupied with the week's events. Yet, on the strength of recent performances and contrary to the form shown earlier in the year, it seems certain that Montoya will emerge as Williams's most potent threat to the Michael Schumacher/Ferrari domination of the past two seasons.

Monza 2001 was about far more than just the racing though. Increasingly throughout the weekend, Formula One displayed its true nature - part sport, part business, part showbiz and, most importantly, as a stabilising reference point in the fans' lives. After a week which, at times, took on the surreal proportions of a science fiction film, it was curiously comforting to escape into the temporary sanctuary of a GP weekend, a world where real-world concerns are replaced by lap times, track positions and pitstop strategies. Only the absence of sponsorship livery on the Ferraris, combined with the uncharacteristically muted tifosi, reflected the extraordinary circumstances that preceded the race weekend.

It was only after the race that the true behind-the-scenes conflicts emerged, heated differences of opinion that may yet drive a wedge into the fragile allegiance between teams, drivers and the sport's organisers. That started with the autonomous pre-race drivers decision, initiated by Michael Schumacher, to avoid overtaking until after the second chicane on the opening lap - an obvious reference to the fatal first-lap accident that claimed the life of marshal Paolo Gislimberti a year ago. Some team principals were understandably unsettled by the thought of an orchestrated start, and instructed their drivers to do what they're paid to do - go out and race.

It's impossible to judge and apportion blame on this issue, because both sides had equally valid points. Racing drivers are paid to face danger and take risks, and safety-first decisions run contrary to the sport's ultra-competitive principles. On the other hand, a repeat of the 2000 pile-up could have had disastrous consequences for the sport as a whole. For public relations purposes, a united front would have been more desirable. But this is Formula One - 11 teams, 22 drivers, one organising body, 17 different events around the globe, and countless race officials and sponsors to satisfy. Differences of opinion are healthy and necessary, despite the inherent dangers of fracturing the sport into factions.

The public debate and differences between the major players are set to continue until the US GP at Indianapolis in two weeks' time. FIA President Max Mosley is insistent that the American event will go ahead as planned, although the ultimate decision goes far beyond the mandate of the sport's ruling body. There will inevitably be legitimate and lingering concerns for the safety of those flying into America, but those fears may prove secondary to the logistics problem. Shifting the tonnage of machinery and thousands of F1 personnel from one continent to another involves a mammoth and co-ordinated logistics effort. In seasons past, the calendar allowed an extra week for transportation, but the 17-event 2001 schedule has only made allowance for the customary two weeks. The sheer size of the F1 circus, coupled with the tighter security employed at all US points of entry, may yet pose an insurmountable challenge for the teams and organisers.

From the teams' and drivers' perspective, it appears that the show must go on. After initial doubts, both Schumacher brothers have confirmed their commitment to racing at Indianapolis, and the other drivers will doubtless follow suit. With the Championship already won, and his immediate interest in racing subdued to the wider issues, Michael Schumacher could have taken Ferrari up on their offer and sat out the rest of the season. But, as Jordan's Jean Alesi attested after the drivers' meeting at Monza, Schumacher is a leader who recognises the responsibilities of his unique position.

Formula One has donated financially to alleviate the tragedy, and it has publicly expressed its grief and condolences. Materially or symbolically, there is not much more that the sport can do. Cancelling the US GP may ensure the safety of all concerned, as well as instantly resolving the upcoming logistics nightmare for the teams and American border officials. However, cancellation would also prolong the memory of the events.

With the reopening of services like the Stock Exchange, America is back on the path to a state of relative normality. An incident-free US GP would bolster that process considerably. However low-key the US GP may be, it will nevertheless serve to reassure that, after the turmoil and trauma, sanity will prevail and normality will ultimately be restored. That alone would be more valuable than the sum of Formula One's sporting, entertainment and business benefits.