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Still Standing
This hard-hitting assessment of Johnny's
career, after his historic third win in the 1999 European GP, is by
respected motorsport journalist, David Tremayne. It first appeared in the November
1999 issue of F1 Racing and is
reproduced here by kind permission of the editor, Paul Fearnley, and the
author. The photos were not taken from the magazine but are official Ford
photos by LAT.
Here's the rub. Nobody actually dislikes Johnny
Herbert. They just don't notice him. He's outgoing, happy-go-lucky.
Doesn't complain. Possesses a natural charm in PR activities. Perhaps most surprisingly, he
comes across brilliantly on screen. Whereas Hill and Coulthard frequently
appear wooden and tense, Herbert exudes unexpected charisma. But he has
long gone out of fashion. Even before his fine-judged victory at the Nürburgring,
few rated him. Maybe they still don't. Most just see a journeyman who's
been around too long; a likeable little guy with a hard-luck story.
Assessing the situation brutally, he simply hasn't
performed as Rubens Barrichello's team-mate at Stewart-Ford. The
revitalised Brazilian's remarkable drives have turned him into a star,
while Herbert has been the man in the shadow, failing to grasp the nettle.
The most competitive thing he's done, cynics say, is to remind Ford of the
cost of buying him out of his 2000 contract. JYS must be glad they didn't.
Everyone knows the story of the cheeky chappy who was
to motor racing in the late 1980s what Michael Schumacher- the man who
psychologically destroyed Herbert at Benetton in 1995 (his best and
worst year) - was in the early '90s: a rocket-powered coming man who
was going all the way. Until Herbert was introduced to the Armco at Brands
Hatch by F3000 rival Gregor Foitek in August 1988, nothing was going to
stop him. He'd won the British F3 title and his first F3000 race; had
blown the doors off Thierry Boutsen and half the F1 field while testing a
turbocharged Benetton-Ford at Brands Hatch; had similarly embarrassed the
reigning world champion, Nelson Piquet, when testing for Lotus at Monza.
Frank Williams was at Brands Hatch that day in '88, ostensibly prepared
to talk contracts. The future seemed
bright, but Herbert was lucky to leave the circuit with his feet still
attached. The first marshal to reach his Reynard insisted everything was
okay, then threw up when he copped Herbert's mangled feet.
Likewise, everyone knows the story of the remarkable
recovery, the loyal struggle at Lotus and that demoralising 1995 season.
Nobody knows any of it better than Herbert himself.
Others dismiss it all with cynical that-was-then-but-this-is-now comments;
he's had to live with it all the way. He's just as tired of it.
"Maybe I'm not as quick as I would have been if I
hadn't had the shunt," he suggests, and you both know that the
"maybe" is redundant. "But you can come up with all the
excuses in the world - I'm not interested in that. It was more than 10
years ago, and you can't keep dwelling on things like that. It happened.
It's done. Maybe I would have been world champion every single year
without it, who knows? Maybe I wouldn't. But so far this season I have
done things in a way where I believed in myself, and I've got much, much
better."

So why has it been so disappointing, Nürburgring
apart? When he was signed to partner Barrichello everyone expected him to
push Rubens from Day One. When it didn't happen, all the old criticisms
arose again. They seemed justified. Herbert just didn't cut the mustard.
Sure, it was Barrichello's team: it's hard to envisage a situation in
which the Brazilian might have walked back to the pit after his dashboard
fell off or his rear wing collapsed and found the place empty, as happened
to Herbert on Saturday morning at Hockenheim. But Johnny's been driving a
good car with, by conservative estimation, 820 bhp, and at times he's
appeared to lack conviction.
"Rubens was part of the family here," he
says, "and I'm still finding my way to an extent. I'm also the kind
of driver who needs that family atmosphere - who doesn't? Maybe I should be hard-headed, but that isn't
my style. But things are much better here than the results might suggest,
and I think I've coped with the various problems quite well. I am happy
here," - he might have added now - "and that's very
important."
Herbert must produce the goods alongside a very
hard-headed Eddie Irvine in 2000, or his F1 career will be over. Long
before he took the chequered flag at the Nürburgring, Johnny wasn't
thinking of any 12-month countdown to retirement, and he doesn't care if
the paddock wonders what he's still doing in F1.
"I know what a lot of people are thinking, but
most of that is based on what happened in the first part of the year. I
know what it's like if you aren't flavour of the month. Some people have
never forgiven me since Peter Collins [Herbert's Benetton and Lotus
mentor] once said he thought that I had similar talent to Jim Clark at the
same point in our careers. They thought that was sacrilegious. But you
learn to filter out who and what doesn't count. I believe that I can still
do it, and I don't need to rely on the opinion of others for that. If I
lose that belief, okay, I think I can be honest enough to admit to myself
that I'm no longer up to it. In some ways it was difficult, at the
beginning of the year, not to think that. For a long time I never, ever
got any sort of rhythm."
Jordan's joint managing director, Trevor Foster, a
long-time Herbert supporter, has a theory about that:
"I wonder
sometimes whether Johnny is just putting a brave face on things. You've
really got to be able to left-foot brake in one of these modern F 1 cars,
and I'm not sure if he can handle that. There's a certain predetermined
speed on the straights and a certain level of grip in corners, so the only
place really to make up time is under braking. Like Damon [Hill] with
Heinz-Harald [Frentzen], Johnny has often been faster than Rubens in the
quick corners, so it's not a balls thing - he hasn't got the braking sussed."
Herbert concurs- to an extent:
"Yeah, I had a lot
of problems with that. The car was on a knife-edge, and I just couldn't be
aggressive with it. But as soon as I got the new differential in Austria,
that all went. It totally changed the behaviour of the car. Suddenly I was
right there with Rubens."
So much so that he out-qualified Barrichello for the
first time this season at the Nürburgring. But it was only by one place
and qualifying normally goes Barrichello - somehow, practice promise seems
to evaporate for Herbert come Saturday afternoon. When Jackie Stewart was
chasing David Coulthard earlier this season, he was displeased to be asked
why he would want a driver who was slower than Mika Hakkinen, when he
already had one who was as quick as Hakkinen- sometimes quicker - during
their spell together at Lotus. Back in 1991, the qualifying score was
Herbert five, Hakkinen three. In 1992, it was Herbert nine, Hakkinen
seven.
In Austria, Hungary, Belgium and Italy this season, he was on course to
outqualify Barrichello until minor problems set him back; and when he's
had a trouble-free spell in races, their lap times have been similar. But
it hasn't been enough to change the perception of him as a guy who should
have quit already, because he's rarely been running in a top position when
the problems have arisen. This year the situation has been compounded by
the fact that where you qualify is generally where you tend to race. At Monza, he got into the lm 26s in the race sooner than Barrichello, but they were separated by eight places after Herbert's poor qualifying performance. It's as if the promise is there, but he loses the key and can't pick the lock in time. And it's this that people will remember, not his
Nürburgring achievement.
"That's not nice, but it doesn't hurt me," he insists. "It's not as if Rubens is banging in the times and I'm just doing the odd one here and there. If anything, it's been the other way round lately. It's like the Salo thing, with stories that Ford were chasing him; why let it upset you? That's always been the F1 way. It was just a case of making sure the right people knew what I wanted and what I didn't want, and keeping calm."
This year Herbert has done what he always does in difficult circumstances. He's kept his lip zipped and tried to work his way through:
"In the past, qualifying has never been a problem for me, so I just focused on trying to sort the car so ! had something I could get by the
scruff of the neck."
He has another, more fundamental, problem. Back in 1992, Keke Rosberg summarised it perfectly:
"Johnny needs to look more as if he is really focused, and to get more angry when things don't go right. He's too much 'Sunny Boy', always seen laughing and
joking. We know what he is like underneath, but a lot of people don't. They mistake him for a guy with the attitude that says he doesn't care, when he does."
Spitting the dummy has never been Herbert's style. Once, he was calm and cheerful after losing an
F3 race at Thruxton, but subsequent info came to light from others that he
had been punted off by Bertrand Gachot. For Johnny, it was already
history, not worth mentioning. That easygoing nature may be why he hasn't
fulfilled the potential he showed in those days, but some styles suit some
drivers and not others.
"Sure, it's all how you are perceived in this
game," he concedes without bitterness. "I do things my way. I
just mention that things shouldn't happen. There's no point in shouting at
people, because that upsets them. And early on [in '99] I wasn't really in
a position to say much, given that my performances in qualifying weren't
good enough. I didn't feel I had the right to criticise people in the team
under those circumstances, even though they might have been in the wrong
too."
Thus far his litany of'99 disappointment embraces
malfunctioning dampers and suspension breakages, countless electrical or
hydraulic problems, and three rear wing failures which won't have done
much for any driver's peace of mind, no matter how glibly he shrugged them
off as an occupational hazard.

It's always been particularly hard to know what Herbert
is really thinking. Even when he's hurting, there's usually a flippant
response. But the perception of JP Herbert as 'Sunny Boy' has always
amused his father Bob. He remembers the Bobby Shaftoe blond
firebrand from their karting days, and the piece of tape they stuck over
the hole in the side of their caravan after Johnny threw a screwdriver at
him.
"That image is the one thing I'd change, looking
back," Herbert says, unexpectedly. "I'm absolutely sure that I
was moodier and harder before the crash. Trevor [Foster] says I was a
miserable git in the old days at Jordan. My personality did change. I had
to laugh my problems off, and that stuck with me."
So why does he believe that he deserves another chance
in Fl? He answers as if mentally crossing things off a list.
"Well, I've still got the desire; I think I have a lot to offer Jaguar; my feedback is good and I believe I've now proved that I'm still quick."
He has straightforward requirements of Jaguar:
"As a driver you need the feeling that you are wanted in a team, and the ability to do what you want in testing. Then you need the support, physically, emotionally and psychologically. And you need a relationship, from the people at the top right the way down."
But there have already been none-too-veiled indications that Dr Wolfgang Reitzle, boss of Jaguar, wants Frentzen to
partner Irvine from 2001, to help increase the brand's presence in Germany. If that hurts Herbert you wouldn't know it, any more than you'd be able to detect whether a new fire of determination has been ignited within him.
You ask the question, and Johnny starts to answer. "Well," he begins, stretching the vowel in the diffident way he has when he isn't sure quite how to phrase what he is going to say next. He's never been particularly good at that. In the old days he didn't have to be, of course, he just let his work on the track speak for him.
Ultimately, it might all come down to this: Johnny Herbert may simply be too nice a bloke to succeed in F1. He doesn't lie, try to mislead or conceal. Perhaps he's too open. It's time he rediscovered his old artistry. In the past, there was never any question about it. But now it's come down to how deep he is prepared to dig, to save not only his dignity, but his F1 career.
The Nürburgring provided a clue.
Give us your views
What do you think of David Tremayne's article? Has he fairly and
objectively assessed what Johnny needs to do if he's to stay in F1? Or do you
think he's completely wrong? Tell us (politely, please!) what you think on the Discussion
Forum.
Article by David Tremayne from the November
1999 issue of F1 Racing
.
With thanks to the author and F1 Racing
©.
Ford photos by LAT. All rights
reserved.
This page prepared 11th December 1999.
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