Writing this column for Atlas, is (for the most part) a thoroughly enjoyable experience. It gives me the opportunity to write about my favourite subject - motor racing. Through motor sport and F1 in particular I have made many good friends. Unfortunately most of them live far away and we only get to meet up at events. This means that at work or when socialising, conversation usually revolves around football, politics, football, work, football, religion, football... you know the score. However Atlas gives me the chance to "discuss" my favourite subject with like minded (and hopefully) enlightened people all over the globe.

Following my article "The Day The Music Died" I was inundated with e-mails: many in agreement, many scathing in their condemnation. Yet, the common denominator was our mutual love of this sport.

One of my regular correspondents Dave Olson gently scolded me for my "defence" of Schumacher. He went on to say that "while I appreciate skill, daring and nerves of steel in a driver, I guess I would like a little more chivalry or at least gentlemanly conduct. All is not lost with Berger's departure, I will continue to root for drivers I think I would like to have dinner with." And, that got me thinking.

I have set myself certain rules for my Formula One dinner party, the first being that only ten guests would be invited. They would all have to be living, it is absolutely pointless writing about how I would love to meet Fangio, Ferrari or Gilles... that will have to wait until Grand Prix heaven! The meeting would be held at a time and place agreeable to all concerned and all would come from the world of F1. I will give you the names in no particular order.

This is not a list of my favourite drivers, indeed some of my guests have probably never sat in a GP car. It is a meeting of ten people who I think would make great company with their insights and reflections. I am dismayed when I see books advertised at the end of the season: "Man of Iron: The Career of John Doe - Racing Driver." These are (for the most part) hastily assembled biographies of a driver "enjoying" his first full season of F1. They offer no insight to the subject and serve no real purpose other than to make the author a quick killing on the Christmas market.

I want my guests to have experience. I want anecdotes and revelations. I want to experience their experiences, the very soul of F1.

Yes, it would be fascinating to sit down with some of today's "stars". However, I'm afraid that try as I might, if I sat down with Jacques I would have to raise the subject of Gilles. This would be wrong (yet natural) of me and, I'm sure, painful for him. As for the other guy well, maybe in a few years time I'd like to meet him in a quiet bar over a game of pool (a bit like a friend of a friend did a few months back) and get him to give me his full account of the Jerez incident.

So, ladies and gentlemen... please sit back and imagine the conversation you could enjoy with my ten "guests".

Nigel Roebuck

For me, this isn't a hard choice. Granted there are several other writers whose work I find inspiring, notably Jabby Crombac - the grand old man of motor sport journalism.

Though I have only fleetingly met Nigel on a couple of occasions, I feel I know him so well, but then again I have been reading his columns regularly for twenty odd years. He still writes with great (almost boyish) enthusiasm and admiration for the men who do what we cannot. Rather than analyse wing settings, brake balance and cornering techniques he prefers to look at the men behind the impenetrable visors.

Like me, he makes no attempt to hide his favouritism for certain drivers, furthermore, two of these favourites we have in common, Alain Prost and Chris Amon.

In an age where many of those issued with press passes have absolutely no right to them and others write sycophantic drivel in order not to upset the F1 establishment, it is refreshing to see that Nigel has lost none of his wit or cynicism.

It is very rare for me to disagree with what Nigel writes, indeed the only point on which we might "have words" is his admiration for Manchester United. Still, as Joe E. Brown put it so succinctly at the end of Some Like It Hot, "nobody's perfect."

Prof. Sid Watkins

Sid is a wonderful, warm and kind man. I have met him a couple of times and he always has time for a brief word. For the last couple of years he sat at the next table to mine in the paddock restaurant at Monza.

A few years ago I visited the Jim Clark Trophy Room at Duns. The curator told me of the time Ayrton Senna had privately visited the room accompanied by Prof. Watkins. The story the curator told me of Senna's visit changed my whole opinion of Ayrton as a man. Indeed, at that time another driver was busy telling the world how proud he was to follow in Clark's shoes as a British World Champion. "Has he ever been here?" I asked. "We couldn'tafford him," was the instant reply.

Senna spent several hours at the museum watching videos, looking at Clark's trophies and memorabilia, even posing for a few private photographs for the curator. It was obvious even from the dedications in the visitors book that Ayrton and Sid were very close.

Read the first chapter of his superb book "Life At The Limit" and fail to be deeply, deeply moved. I still find the words on those pages painful to read. Prof. Watkins had a job to do, however there is no mistaking the fact that a little bit of him died that day too.

Here is a man who enjoys his life and more importantly a man who will stick to his guns. This man in many senses wields more power at an event than Bernie! In his time with F1, the Prof. has seen and tended many of the greats and I am sure he would have some absolutely wonderful tales to tell... "off the record"

Ken Tyrrell

My one gripe with Nigel Roebuck is that he supports Manchester United. Ken, I'm pleased to say, is another Tottenham Hotspur fan. 1999 is going to be a strange season. For the first time in thirty years, the Tyrrell Racing Organisation will not be represented in Formula One. Ken quickly learnt that he didn't have it as a driver and decided to turn his talents to running a race team (shades of Enzo). A chance introduction to Jackie Stewart and the rest (as they say) is history. In these days where 11 year old kart drivers have Managers, PA's and PR, it is interesting to note that the Tyrrell/Stewart partnership was built on a mere handshake.

As with Tottenham (for the time being), the glory days are long gone. Yet there is no mistaking the fact that Tyrrell will always have a well-deserved place in F1 history. Scheckter, Cevert, Depailler, Peterson, Pironi and of course three times World Champion, Jackie Stewart all played their parts in the story that is Tyrrell.

And, of course there are some of those wonderful chassis. Who will ever forget the images on our TV screens of Stewart hurtling through the Karussell in his 003. Or, the bizarre looking yet highly effective P34?

It's strange to think that after all these years, Stewart enters the Constructor's arena as the man who gave him his first break exits.

Stirling Moss

God, how Stirling must tire of that heavy, heavy weight around his neck. I refer of course to that Albatross he carries of "nearly man". How many times have we heard Stirling described as "the greatest driver never to win the World Championship"?

They talk as though the F1 title was the be all and end all. Although, I guess in many ways it is. However, a record of 16 wins from 66 starts is pretty damn good and puts him ahead of Mansell, Lauda, Piquet, Brabham, Andretti, Scheckter, Surtees, Fittipaldi and a few others who did manage to win the coveted crown.

His achievements in classic Sports Car events such as the Mille Miglia and Targa Florio -- GT races such as the Tourist Trophy -- make him without doubt one of the greatest racing drivers ever to have graced the sport. This was a man able to get the best out of any machine in any conditions.

To this day, his enthusiasm knows no bounds. At last year's Goodwood Festival, he was a man possessed. My enduring memory is of Stirling running here and there with wife in tow. He never seemed to stop for a minute. Some of today's stars don't have a fraction of his ability or talent, yet they command salaries that would make even Stirling stop dead in his tracks. Yet unlike some, there is no bitterness. Here is a man content with his lot.

He raced against the cream of F1's rich history: Fangio, Farina, Hawthorn, Collins, Villoresi, Behra, Brooks, Brabham, Phil Hill and Clark. He was respected by each and every one of them. Stirling's F1 career came to an abrupt end at Goodwood in the Spring of 1962; the events surrounding his dreadful accident are still a mystery. Yet, it is testimony to his inner strength that this year he will take part in the event that sees the re-opening of the same track that nearly killed him thirty six years ago.

Niki Lauda

Towards the end of 1997, Bernie Ecclestone made a remark that will go down as one of the all time classics. In reference to the failure of Williams and McLaren to sign the revised Concorde Agreement, he said, "they think they've got me by the balls, their hands aren't big enough." Classic stuff, Bernie.

If you really want to know about "big balls" though, then Niki is your man. What I admire most about Niki is his absolute refusal to capitulate, he answers to no-one. He is a man that has no interest in the history of the sport he dominated, no care for trophies, prizes or statistics. He was there to drive the car as well as possible, then collect the paycheque... and was always honest about it.

It is impossible to think about Niki without referring to "that accident". Here is a man who mere weeks after being given the last rites was back in action, fired by an iron will to prove his critics and his paymasters wrong. We talk about the remarkable recovery of Olivier Panis following his accident at Montreal, yet this was nothing in comparison to Lauda's sickening accident. How do you begin to describe such bravery, what demons drive a man to put himself through those risks all over again?

I have talked before of my rosso coloured glasses, I am sure that given enough time with Niki, even I would have to start looking a little more closely at the legend that is Ferrari. His treatment by the team for whom he almost gave his life was shameful. However, Ferrari alone can't be singled out in this respect; Chapman was another team boss who pushed the "human element" aside when it concerned the greater good of the team.

After a brief retirement, Niki was back, motivated more by money than a passion for the sport. However, it was soon clear that he had lost none of his guile. A third Championship Title in 1984 was followed by a (by his standards) lacklustre season in 1985.

He now divides his time between running his extremely successful airline and a job (although no-one seems to know exactly what his role is) with Ferrari. Niki is no-nonsense and in your face. If you want the true story, Niki's your man.

Bette Hill

What a wonderfully unique woman Bette is. Wife of one World Champion and mother of another. I wonder if any other woman will ever be able to boast of such a feat, I don't think so.

A couple of years ago, I was short-listed to run (and revamp) the fabulous Donington F1 Collection. I explained to the Wheatcroft family that I wanted to get away from the idea of static displays, and somehow bring the cars alive. One of my ideas was to build a mock up of a typical 1960s pit scene alongside it's hi-tech equivalent in the 1990s. When you think of the '60s scene it is impossible to visualise it without the wife (or girlfriend) of the driver perched on the pit wall, complete with lap charts and stopwatches. And, the archetypal F1 wife at that time was Bette.

Jump forward to the 1990s and the wife or girlfriend often seems more intent on making sure that she gets "in camera" whenever the race director cuts to a "pit shot". Bette would sit there doing her "job", and if Graham retired, she would nod reassuringly in his direction and continue timing his team-mate. Now be honest, didn't you all get a little queasy whenever David C and his "ex" used to canoodle on the grid before the start of a race? I certainly did!

Bette did it all, wife, mother, timekeeper, PR.... She even used to darn the holes in Graham's nomex socks! Along with Helen Stewart, she remains the epitome of the Grand Prix wife from the golden age.

Like Helen Stewart, she saw a succession of close friends die in the name of sport. During one dreadful period in the early seventies, motor sport seemed to be claiming lives with sadistic regularity. Following the death of his friend and team-mate Francois Cevert at Watkins Glen in 1973, Jackie quit F1 there and then. Unlike Lauda though, he never returned (at least not as a driver). Eventually Graham too, following a career that had spanned eighteen seasons decided to call it a day. He had survived several near misses during his career including a dreadful accident at Watkins Glen in 1969. Surely, this was fate's way of telling him to stop. Yet five months later, he took his place on the grid at the opening round of the 1970 championship.

When Graham finally hung up his helmet in 1975, Bette must have been the most relieved woman on earth. Like Helen Stewart, she had watched her husband get to the very top and live to tell the tale. However, fate had one more cruel trick to play. In November that same year, Graham was killed in a pointless accident in a light aircraft along with his protégé Tony Brise.

It is ironic that Graham was not mourned simply by followers of motor sport; he was missed by everyone who had ever been touched by his overwhelming charisma. Bette soldiered on. The financial rewards from the sport at that time were nothing like they are today. She brought up her children alone and did a superb job of it.

I will never forget the sight of Damon in his broken Williams as he sat in the pits at Adelaide in 1994. As his crew checked the front suspension to see if he could continue and thereby win the world championship, he sat in his car, desperate and heartbroken. When it was clear that he could not continue, he got out of the car and walked to the rear of the pits to be alone. There were no histrionics, no hissing or spitting venom or storming down to the Benetton pit. He accepted his fate gracefully -- I for one was extremely proud of him.

If ever you want proof of the grit, courage, and great dignity of Bette Hill, look no further than this piece of film, for she is the woman behind the men.

Jackie Stewart

Though I was disappointed with the song, I thought the video for the Beatles' "Free As A Bird" was superb. For me, there is one magical moment. It's where George Harrison in a big floppy hat and long coat runs across the street to the Apple HQ. For me, this clip somehow manages to capture its time perfectly.

There is no doubt in my mind that Jackie Stewart was the first "superstar" in F1. In the early 60's, all the drivers seemed to look the same, the one exception being the dashing "fighter pilot" Graham Hill. Even Stewart went for the clean cut, "short back and sides" so favoured by his contemporaries. Then in late '68 early '69, he seemed to change his image. Suddenly Stewart no longer seemed to blend in with other clean cut goodie-goodies... Jackie went bad! As his hair began to creep over his collar, so in some "Samson-like" manner did his skills seem to come together.

1969 was a tremendous year for the flying Scot. For much of the season, he was virtually untouchable. As the championship drew to a close, there were a few problems with his car, however the crown had already been won. By contrast, 1970 was disappointing. The season started well enough with a podium in South Africa and a maiden win for the March car (in only it's second Grand Prix) in Spain. However, the car was plagued by reliability problems. For the last three events of 1970, Jackie was at the helm of the first car ever to be built by his close friend and team boss Ken Tyrrell.

1971 was a magical year for this partnership. Together Stewart and Tyrrell absolutely blew the opposition away. Stewart was by now (like Graham Hill) a household name. With his flowing locks, glamorous wife and ever present shades, Jackie was a star. He mixed with royalty, movie stars and pop icons. At that time, I worked for a company that sold "the most expensive underwear in Carnaby street". As well as selling Nomex and helmets to the drivers, we were also amongst the first to realise the enormous potential in selling "goodies" to race fans. You would not believe how many pairs of Jackie Stewart sunglasses we were selling or Jackie Stewart hats. The public couldn't get enough of him. Do any of you remember that awful TV advertisement he did, extolling in song the virtues of tea? OK, it was naff, but he was a PR man's dream.

Dark clouds were on the horizon though. In the previous couple of seasons, Jackie had seen many friends die: Jim Clark, Mike Spence, Scarfiotti, Schlesser, McLaren, Courage, Rindt, Giunti and Rodriguez. As if to mock him, fate even chose to take the life of one of his friends at an event intended as a celebration of Stewart's 2nd world crown. The victory race at Brands Hatch in 1971 was a non championship race in honour of Stewart's achievements that season, however what started out as a day of fun turned to a day of mourning when Jo "Seppi" Siffert's car left the track and hit an embankment at over 120 mph.

1972 was a difficult season with Stewart and Tyrrell unable to mount a sustainable challenge to Fittipaldi's all conquering Lotus 72 - The John Player Special. 1973 saw a titanic year long battle between the Lotus team and Tyrrell. Against the might of Fittipaldi and Peterson in the sleek black JPS cars were Stewart and his close friend Francois Cevert.

Lotus were to win the battle for the constructor's cup, whilst Stewart was to win the driver's crown for a third time... at a price. Towards the end of the Saturday morning practice session at Watkins Glen for the final GP of 1973, Cevert's car hit a guard-rail killing the driver instantly. Without hesitation, Stewart walked away from the race, from Formula One and from motor sport.

Therefore, he began a long and difficult campaign to attempt to make Formula One and motor sport in general safer. Today, we take the presence of Sid Watkins and his vast team at events for granted. None of us give the fleet of air ambulances a second thought. However, it wasn't always this way. When Jo Siffert was killed at Brands Hatch in 1971 one of the marshals ran to the scene with a fire extinguisher that was empty. You can imagine that, if this was the scant concern shown to Formula One drivers, then safety standards for the lesser formulae must have been almost non existent. One of the things that we must thank Mr Ecclestone for is that up until the forming of FOCA it was the organisers of the actual events (usually the track owners themselves) who were responsible for such "little" matters as medical treatment. For a greater insight into conditions during this era check out Prof. Sid Watkins book - Life At The Limit.

Since his retirement from the sport Stewart has dedicated himself to safety both on the track and off. He has played a key role in the development of many drivers' careers and helped his son Paul to build one of the most successful racing teams in British motorsport - Paul Stewart Racing. In 1997, he made the decision to return to the sport he'd walked away from 24 years earlier. Along with his son, he founded Stewart Grand Prix.

I will never forget the epic battle Jackie fought with Jochen Rindt at Silverstone in 1969. I was 15 and totally captivated. It was without doubt one of the finest duels I have ever had the good fortune to witness. I think of Stewart in his shiny NASA overalls, with his shades and corduroy cap, the gorgeous Helen by his side captured so perfectly in Roman Polanski's "Weekend Of A Champion".

Today I see a man who has seen and done it all and thankfully lived to tell the tale. Alongside that enduring memory of Jackie fighting the Tyrrell through the Karussell, I also have another image. That of the man who at Monaco in 1997 was totally overcome by emotion and openly wept tears of joy for his beloved son, Jackie Stewart a class act.

Ron Dennis

If Ken Tyrrell is the epitome of F1 team management in the late sixties/early seventies, then Ron Dennis is his nineties equivalent.

Like Ken, Ron had aspirations to be a driver but these soon fizzled out and he decided to concentrate on the mechanical side of things. After joining the legendary Cooper team, he eventually graduated to the role of mechanic for Jochen Rindt. After promotion to the position of chief mechanic with Cooper, he set up his own Formula 2 team with Neil Trundel - Rondel Racing.

It was here that Dennis first gained his reputation for his "attention to detail". The team brought a level of professionalism to F2 that would have put many Grand Prix teams to shame.

During the next few years, Rondel employed the talents of drivers such as Graham Hill and Carlos Reuteman in their successful European F2 campaign. In turn Dennis went on to form the successful Project 4 formula 3 team. This outfit won the British F3 championship in '79 (Chico Serra) and 1980 (Stefan Johansson).

Project 4 were one of the teams chosen to build cars for the BMW Procar Series (hands up everyone who'd like to see a similar series revived). Niki Lauda won the inaugural championship in 1979 in a Project 4 car, whilst Hans Stuck won a brace of rounds in the similarly prepared car in 1980. Buoyed by the success (and financial rewards) of their involvement in Procar, Dennis and his friend John Barnard decided it was time to test the waters of F1.

Ron had realised for some time that professionalism had to cover every aspect of the team. For him, it was as important that the team mechanics wore matching spotless outfits as it was that the chassis performed well. Every facet had to be fully optimised. Engineering, design, preparation, sponsorship, public relations -- each department had to be staffed by the best in its particular field. Ron advocated that everything had to work from the bottom to the top. He preached the importance of teamwork and attention to detail. Whilst everyone within the organisation was given their particular role, it was Ron's job to "marry" all the parts together.

Dennis was one of those who finally helped British constructors shake off Enzo Ferrari's tag of "garagistes" and made the F1 establishment sit up and take notice. Right from the day in September 1980 when he bought into McLaren (on the strong recommendation of team sponsors Marlboro), his influence was obvious.

I'm sure my readers will correct me if I'm wrong, however I believe it was Ron Dennis who perceived that black lettering on a white background would stand out better on television screens.

Within two years of buying into McLaren, Dennis had bought the remainder of the company from Teddy Mayer and Tyler Alexander. Now, he went into overdrive. He had already been in negotiations with TAG who had been working with Porsche in developing their turbo engine.

The first full season of the McLaren-TAG/Porsche partnership in 1984, saw them sweep away all in their path. Twelve wins from sixteen races. In 1985, the McLaren steamroller continued. The next two seasons saw events swing back in favour of Williams before the tour-de-force of 1988.

In 1988, McLaren came within two laps (approximately seven miles) of winning the Italian GP and thus every single round of the World Championship... an amazing achievement.

It is testament to Ron Dennis that of McLaren's 9 driver's titles, seven of them have been won under his guidance. Furthermore, six of McLaren's seven constructor's titles have been during his reign.

Ron Dennis has worked with some of the top drivers in modern GP history: Lauda, Prost, Rosberg, Watson, Berger, Hakkinen, Michael Andretti (only kidding), Mansell (wouldn't you love to hear Ron on that subject?), Coulthard and, of course, Ayrton.

Ron is seen as a bit of a hard nose (his negotiations with Senna are legendary), but this mis-conception is due largely to his consummate professionalism. It's about winning. And, if the results are not going your way you have to find out why. On any day that the team has performed well, rest assured that Ron will wear the biggest and most genuine grin in the pit-lane.

John Lane

Initially I'm sure that you, like me will not recognise the name John Lane. I first heard from John, when he responded to my (by now) infamous article regarding Jerez and all that ensued.

He wrote (as did many others) that I was being blinkered and that my passion for Ferrari was causing me to lack objectivity. He then went on to say that he had known Jacques' father Gilles. I know that many readers will share my undying respect and admiration for this legendary driver. In my mind, the greatest racing driver it has ever been my good fortune to watch.

Naturally I did what anyone else would have done; I decided to investigate.

It was at Laguna Seca in early 1976 that John first met Gilles. At that time, Villeneuve was driving in Formula Atlantic for the extremely under-funded Ecurie Canada. After six rounds of the championship, Gilles held a commanding lead with five wins, five poles and two fastest laps to his credit. Then came the bombshell, upon arriving at Mosport Park for the seventh round of the championship, the team was informed that the latest cheque from their sponsors had bounced. Gilles was reduced to watching the race as a spectator despite the best efforts of his team manager, Kris Harrison, to raise the necessary funds.

As Gilles watched in desperation, his dreams rapidly fading, Harrison and team manager Ray Wardell were being approached by businessman John Lane with the offer of much needed financial input. John, who had been extremely impressed by the young Canadian, agreed to buy the rolling stock on the strict proviso that every effort was put into helping Gilles secure the 1976 title. John's investment and faith were amply rewarded when Gilles went on to win the three remaining rounds of the championship as well as taking all three poles and fastest laps. I should like to point out that when John first approached Harrison and Wardell, he had $65,000 in the bank and much to his wife's chagrin, invested virtually all of it into the ailing outfit, such was his belief in the young Villeneuve.

In September of 1976, just two weeks before the final round of the championship, Gilles was entered in the non-championship race at Trois-Rivieres. This was a race for Formula Atlantic to which it was customary to invite Formula One stars to race side by side with the (hopefully) stars of the future. The 1976 invitees included Patrick Depailler, Vittorio Brambilla, Alan Jones, the up and coming Patrick Tambay and World Champion elect James Hunt. To put it mildly, Gilles blew them away -- pole, fastest lap and top step on the podium.

Previously, John had sold his house and bought an extremely large mobile home. For the final races of the season John, his wife and two daughters would park their vehicle alongside the motorhome used by Gilles, his wife Joann and their two children - Melanie and Jacques. At Trois-Rivieres, at John's invitation James Hunt made John's mobile wonder his personal HQ and in the process struck up a friendship with John. By way of returning the hospitality shown to him, James invited John to the upcoming Grand Prix at Mosport. Here the Lane's mobile home was commandeered by the McLaren team who made it their command centre. During the course of the Grand Prix week-end, John became good friends with McLaren team boss Teddy Mayer who subsequently invited him to the next round of the F1 World Championship at Watkins Glen. At both Mosport and Watkins Glen, John was accompanied by his friend and protégé, Gilles. At both events John introduced the extremely shy Gilles to Teddy Mayer who described him as a "fairly nice kid."

As well as his financial interest in Gilles' Formula Atlantic career, John now got financially involved in the McLaren set up. The word was spreading fast about this "wonder-kid" from Canada. The name "Villeneuve" was on quite a few lips in the F1 pit lane during the winter of 1976.

In early '77, Mayer offered Gilles the chance to become 3rd driver for McLaren and participate in selected events alongside team regulars Hunt and Jochen Mass. 1977 was a busy year for the up and coming French-Canadian. As well as successfully defending his Formula Atlantic crown, he participated in the South African Atlantic series, several rounds of the Can-Am championship and even an endurance event.

In July came the big break: Gilles' first F1 race, the British Grand Prix at Silverstone. I will not go into detail about the happenings of that week-end as they have been fully documented elsewhere. Suffice to say that anyone who was present during those initial laps knew they were watching something pretty special. The 1977 British Grand Prix will go down in history not only because it saw the F1 debut of Gilles Villeneuve, but because it also witnessed the first ever appearance of a turbo powered car, the Renault of Jean-Pierre Jabouille.

Gilles lined up on the fifth row of the grid beside his F1 "hero", Ronnie Peterson in the 6-wheel Tyrrell. Despite a pit stop due to the false alarm of a faulty water temperature gauge, Gilles finished a respectable 11th and recorded the fifth fastest lap of the race.

In August '77 whilst at Mosport for an Endurance event, Gilles was informed by Teddy Mayer that his services would not be required by McLaren in 1978. Despite the best arguments of John Lane, Mayer had opted to sign Patrick Tambay as McLaren number two for the upcoming season. In time it became clear that this had been a political decision, Patrick Tambay was French and Marlboro had a strong market share in France. On the other hand, Gilles was Canadian and Marlboro did not enjoy a direct market there.

Weeks later, Gilles was sitting in his motor home with Joann and the kids. He was utterly despondent. He was without a drive for the forthcoming season. Another stint in Atlantic would be seen as failure, whilst Indycars didn't have the lure of F1. Gilles seriously believed his career was over and that he'd failed. Then, like in all those "corny" movies our wives love so much, the phone rang. "Would you be interested in driving for Ferrari?" The rest, as they say, is history. A month later, Gilles lined up on the grid at Mosport for the Canadian GP in the Ferrari so dramatically vacated by it's previous incumbent, World Champion elect Niki Lauda.

In 1978 after crashing out of the Monaco GP, Gilles turned to his friend John Lane once again. In six out of seven races for the Scuderia, Gilles' car had been returned to the pits on the back of a tow-truck. Ferrari were getting impatient, and it was not impossible that the fiery driver would be dropped. John told Gilles to concentrate more on getting the car home than entertaining the crowds with his daredevil "sideways" performances. The advice was adhered to, at his next race Gilles brought the Ferrari home in 4th position, his best result to date.

Five months later, John was there when Gilles won his first Grand Prix, ironically the Canadian GP in Montreal. Along with Gilles' mother and father and wife Joann, John wept quite unashamedly.

Prior to the 1980 season, Teddy Mayer asked John to approach Gilles in an effort to secure his services for McLaren in the 1980 Championship. Gilles turned down the offer and characteristically opted to serve out his contract with Ferrari. After the Canadian GP in '81, Mayer together with Ron Dennis again asked John to act as "go-between" in negotiation. The financial side of the deal was carried out via pit signals, with Ron Dennis putting out a bid of 2.5m on the pit board. Gilles casually walked over, removed the "2" and replaced it with a "3"... 3.5m.

John's remarkable friendship with Gilles lasted until the very end. At times of trouble and times of joy, it was John Lane to whom Gilles turned. On the evening of that dreadful day in May 1982, it was John Lane (who had flown over from the US), who tucked the distraught Villeneuve children - Jacques and Melanie into their beds... and once again he shed tears for his friend.

The tales John can tell are countless and wonderful and would surely make a whole article in themselves. I was already in awe of Villeneuve, yet John's tales have served to make him even bigger in my eyes. John was privileged to be involved with some of the greatest names in F1 during its golden period. This was when drivers still had the word "fun" in their vocabulary.

Yet, there is darkness here. I have already written of the bitterness and machiavellian attitudes that forced Niki Lauda to leave Ferrari. John could (and should) tell tales that would question the loyalty of the most die-hard fan of the Scuderia. Following the death of Gilles in an accident that need not have happened and, like Senna's was survivable, the men of Maranello adopted an attitude that was beneath contempt.

Whilst publicly eulogising the loss of their favourite son, certain people within the factory were already assessing the damage limitation, especially financial. It was the support of John, Jody Scheckter, and a few other close friends that kept Joann Villeneuve going.

My discussions with John have greatly changed the way I see not just Ferrari, but also Jacques Villeneuve. I believe that we will never see Jacques in a Ferrari... and I can fully understand it.

Today John follows F1 courtesy of TV, for him the magic is gone. He is still very close to the Villeneuve family and believes that Jacques will take his place amongst the true legends of the sport.

Rather than leave on such a downbeat note, I'll let John recount a couple of anecdotes...

"How about the time Jody, Gilles, Joachim (Mass) and I were in Gilles' (actually Walter Wolf's) helicopter over Monaco harbour trying to do loops in it? Jody was about to jump out and Joachim was blue. Then we buzzed Princess Grace's car as she went up the road to the Peage (sp.?...my French sucks)."

"Then there is the story about Trois Rivieres when we were in Atlantic. I did the timing. There was a right hand 90 degree corner at the end of the pit straight. A house stood at the corner and then a vacant lot. Gilles went out of sight behind the house, came into view going backwards, and his lap time was .25 seconds off pole."

And finally,

"Another great Gilles story is the final race of the 1977 Atlantic series. We were at Trois Riviere and Gilles was waiting to hear from Ferrari. In two years, he had written off one chassis that was at Mount Tremblant in '76. This weekend we had two cars for him and he wrote them both off. When he went missing on the second one, I ran back to the garage to see if I could find him. Now Gilles became very fluent in English, but in '77 he still spoke very broken English. He would say "I braked for the corner" and it would come out as "brake-ed". Anyway, I saw him and ran up to ask how he was. His response was "I am fine, but the car, she is fuck-ed."

So, there you have it. The guest list for the F1 Dinner Party of my dreams. I know that I've left out some great characters, but the rules had to be strictly adhered to -- and no cheating.

I'm getting married in September this year, September 9th to be precise at Monza Town Hall. That's two days before practice for the GP begins. If Nigel, Ken, Niki, Bette and all are reading this, how about we all meet up for lunch and do it for real?

I've just been informed that I have only invited nine people to the Dinner Party and that I therefore have one vacant seat. The choice is easy, Bernie Ecclestone.

I'm not inviting Bernie for his wit or his remarkable wisdom, I'm not even going to invite Bernie for the anecdotes he could tell: the truth about how the F1 financial pot is shared out. No, I'm inviting Bernie because over the years he's made so much money out of me. He can pick up the tab for me and my esteemed guests.