Johnny Herbert at Benetton, by Ibrar Malik

The upcoming book details what can be learnt about the 1994 Benetton controversies whenever other drivers sat within the car, like Johnny Herbert. So what was the Grand Prix winner's view of driving it?

Johnny had been tipped for F1 stardom before sustaining serious leg injuries in a horrific multi-car pileup during an F3000 race in the summer of 1988. Despite not having fully recovered, the Englishman bravely returned to racing at the beginning of 1989 with the Benetton Formula 1 team and astonished onlookers by finishing a brilliant fourth on his debut.

Herbert arriving for his first Formula One test in 1989. Whenever he was buckled up within the car, painkilling injections were stabbed into his legs. Herbert's injuries still affect him today.

Determined as he was, Johnny's performances progressively got worse throughout 1989 as his leg injuries hindered him on circuits which required heavier braking. This led to a political battle over Herbert's future, between Peter Collins (Benetton's team manager) and Flavio Briatore (Benetton's newly appointed Commercial Director). Collins, having spent three years supporting Johnny through the junior categories was adamant the Englishman should remain, but Briatore insisted on replacing him with a fellow Italian. After failing to qualify for the Canadian Grand Prix Herbert was promptly replaced by Emanuele Pirro (an Italian) and Collins left the team a few weeks later.

Austin Preview: Getting it right

It will be no revelation to you that F1's previous round, that in Russia, is not one to win popularity awards. Not aside from those judged arbitrarily by Bernie Ecclestone at any stretch. This is for a number of reasons, as explored in my recent Grand Prix Times article. But cheek-by-jowl it's followed by a round that rather is at the opposite end of this particular scale. One which you will not hear a bad word spoken of. A round that demonstrates that modern F1 doesn't always get it wrong, not even with the outputs of its chief architect Hermann Tilke. This is the United States Grand Prix in Austin, Texas.

The Austin stop-off is a popular one
Photo: Octane Photography

And if the Sochi round's unpopularity is down to a few things in combination, Austin's star pupil status similarly is attributable to a multitude of factors brought together.

For starters possibly no other host ever, not even Adelaide, has given such an impression of being thoroughly delighted to have a Grand Prix; so determined to most the most of it and give a lasting impression. Possibly not even Adelaide has embodied a Grand Prix as much. Possibly it's a matter of size - being big enough to have the race but not so big to be just another event there; to be swamped. The Texan city has around one million inhabitants just as Adelaide.

Austin more broadly as a city charms even the sport's grizzled bunch. It is eclectic, outward-looking and lively, also as the self-styled 'Live Music Capital of the World' it's well used to putting on large events and giving visitors a warm welcome.

What if... Williams in the 1994 title showdown had changed Hill's suspension in three minutes?

Let's talk about something that never happened. What historians call a 'counterfactual'. Or, to put it more into layman's terms, a 'what if?'.

You'll recall some of the fun that we had in the second part of qualifying in Sepang last weekend. Fernando Alonso's Ferrari and Daniil Kvyat Toro Rosso on their out-laps came into contact, which among other things snapped an arm on of the F14 T's front suspension. Just about all assumed that would be the last we'd see of Nando that day, but it reckoned without the Ferrari mechanics who managed to replace the arm within three minutes, and before we knew it the Spaniard was back out circulating. Eventually it resulted in a fourth place grid slot for him.

But afterwards the events got me thinking. To Adelaide in 1994. Most of us are familiar with what happened then. It was the final race of the season; a championship showdown, with Michael Schumacher and Damon Hill but one point apart. On the Sunday the two disappeared off together in a race of one, only for them after 35 laps of 81 to - one way or another - make contact with each other. Schumi ended up in the barrier while Hill continued. But not for long as he returned to the pits at the end of that lap to retire, as a bent suspension arm meant that he couldn't continue.

Could Damon Hill's zero have converted into a one in 1994?
Credit: Morio / CC

But what if... Williams had been able to change the suspension arm in three minutes just as Ferrari did last Sunday? Would Damon have had a chance at the title? Under the scoring system of the time he needed fifth place or better to clinch it. (Before I go any further, I want to be clear that there is no implied criticism of Williams here; no two cars are the same and presumably the ability to change these things quickly has increased over the last twenty years, so it seems probable that it would in reality have taken much longer than three minutes to change the suspension arm that day. Please treat this only as a bit of fun!)

You might say at this point surely Damon wouldn't have had a chance - three minutes is an impressive turnaround time in itself but in a race it would cost you two laps. But don't forget that the gaps on pace between the cars in 1994 was much wider than now, indeed the advantage of Schumi and Hill over the rest that day was massive; a lap before the collision the third-placed man and eventual winner Nigel Mansell was some 56.5 seconds adrift. Remember they were still short of half-distance too.

Looking back: F1 wizards' first visit to Oz

As you're no doubt aware by now the Bahrain Grand Prix has been postponed, possibly to be shoehorned back into the calendar later this year. The season's opening round will instead take place in Australia on 27 March, around the Albert Park circuit in Melbourne. Seems something much more appropriate about that.

The Australian race is one of the most eagerly anticipated rounds of the season, such is the atmosphere and local enthusiasm it always engenders (it's a pity therefore that it currently seems to be under threat). F1 was nevertheless fairly slow to discover the potential of an Australian race, with the first visit there as late as 1985. What's more, anticipation of the initial visit was accompanied by considerable scepticism from the F1 circus. But on arrival this gave way rapidly to huge enchantment, probably of an even greater intensity than the Melbourne round currently enjoys.

When the first Australian Grand Prix, to be held around a street circuit in Adelaide, was placed as the final round on the 1985 calendar misgivings were widespread. F1's recent record at the time on newfangled street tracks was far from good: the Dallas round of the previous year wherein the track had fallen apart over the weekend, and there were several other organisational difficulties, was fresh in the memory, as were similar problems at Detroit and Las Vegas. Indeed, the record of such rounds even going ahead was somewhat patchy, such as the Flushing Meadows street race in New York which had been on the calendar for three years in a row and had yet to become a reality (and it still hasn't).