Jack O'Ferrall
Former UKGPL Moderators
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« Reply #6 on: June 23, 2008, 01:47:35 AM +0100 » |
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REED, MARQUE, LEARN: THE JACK O’FERRALL STORY
Monza June 22
……….No-one seemed impressed that I had, retrospectively, crawled onto the podium by three-tenths of a second, and the flatness of the champagne was made more apparent when I failed to be named by noted correspondent ‘Burt’ as one of the top five drivers. There were mutterings that one of a couple of drivers who'd used our cars in another series could be leading the team next season, as they'd become disaffected. Or we could borrow some novice drivers.... I had my supporters, though. When I was going to see Bell about racing at Monza, Jim came out of the garage and his expression made his attitude and his unhappiness with the situation very apparent to me. I went into Bell's office. He was fully occupied making holes in a small wooden car, probably a toy, made psychological sense. If I made it clear that I knew what was going on I'd get no trouble out of him ‘Hello Bell, Jim seems upset about something, anything I should be aware of?’ He looked at me with some surprise. ‘No. Well, not unless you're fascinated by the Wild West, that is. He's just moping about how the “coward Sheriff” Pat Garrett shot Billy the Kid by aiming his gun into a dark house at the sound of Billy's voice.’ Bell seemed vaguely amused ‘He told me that Billy had been promised a pardon by Lew Wallace, the governor of New Mexico, before he gave himself up, but Wallace was going to let Garrett hang him.’ Damn. ‘I don't suppose you recognise the name Lew Wallace, do you? He was the author of Ben-Hur, the novel made into the Heston film. Heston meets Jesus and ends up in a chariot race.’ This was getting smug. ‘No one knows for certain what the name of the traitor disciple, Judas Iscariot, is supposed to mean, possibly that he was from the south. Or what Wallace considered it to mean, or why he ignored Billy the Kid when he was in jail.’ ‘There was something I wanted to talk to you about-‘ ‘There was a struggle in America between a slave-holding aristocracy with designs on a southern empire and an industrial society, won by the industrialists. Later the Americans came up against another feudal society armed with industrial weapons, the Japanese. The Japanese considered that aircraft were divine weapons to be flown by samurai, a warrior elite, whereas the Americans filled the skies with armoured flying tractors flown by mechanics. The mechanics won. And the engineers, of course.’ He must have copied this from Tom, he'd never have come up with it by himself. 'Tom's injured his leg. Loot said that it was the same place that Hill got glass in his.’ Bell smiled, truly a horrible sight. ‘I heard about your drinks night. I very much doubt that Loot even knows where Hill cut his leg. He wasn't at the do, and Hill would never have told him.’ Desperation. ‘What’s that you've got, er, Bell, a toy car? Have you been making a present for some kid?’ He showed me the bottom, which he'd scooped holes out of. ‘Just a little engineering concept of mine, nothing you racers would be much interested by. By shaping the airflow under the car we'd get much better grip. But it's hardly worth going far with, it'd just be banned in favour of flat bottoms, like if we suddenly began to hang odd gadgets off the sides to give the cars the effect of streamlining, despite the open wheels, than would be ruled out too. Far better to spend the time producing more horsepower from the H-16.’ Phew. Bell had once claimed that if the H-16 had been made to his plans Hill would never have left, and we would have beaten Brabham in 66. Except that Bell was obsessed with the notion that no engine with fewer than sixteen cylinders could be revved over 10,000. Even had he been right, Loot would have handed our engine to Lotus while we were still parading the car around the track before races, and Clark would have won. ‘It was airflow I was told to speak to you about.’ ‘Oh, draft. It's not much good telling you here, if you talk to me at the track there's a chance you might take it on board long enough to last the race.’ Hell's teeth.
So there it was. Monza, the passionate heart of motor racing, a city full of glamorous Italian girls looking for handsome racing drivers, and I spent the time before the race with Bell. Tom laughed as he went out ‘Jack, I got a fever, and that fever says-‘ ‘P*** off, Tom’. Monza made Bell even more earnest, for him it was crammed with guests to the contraption convention, who he just had to impress. He had to give a lecture, on “Mechanics, Time Management and the Abysmally Conceived Engineering Project Which Was to be Cheap and No-Risk.”, probably. Or his craze for invisible streamlining, as a change from non-apparent horsepower advantages. I found him in the garage. ‘Oh, right, the Monza tow. This circuit is enclosed, and you're at full throttle for enough of the distance that any advantage you can get from a reduction in air resistance will improve your lap times considerably. That's why packs develop here.’ ‘Loot wanted you to tell me how it worked for our cars,’ I interjected, somewhat resentfully. This was novice stuff. ‘Ah. Theoretically, because our cars are open-wheel, the effect on the air behind them should be much greater than that of a streamlined car, even if it was much taller. The effect of the tyres biting into the air is to cause the cars draft as if they were considerably wider than they are, and also to create long-lasting vortices that further reduce the air pressure behind them.’ He paused and seemed a little wry. ‘So you should begin to get an advantage some hundred, perhaps hundred-and-fifty yards back. However, in our series a mysterious unreality caused by unknown limitations means the cars draft more like souped-up saloons. So there'll be no effect at all on the air beyond about forty yards, perhaps less.’ He hadn't deprived me completely of the excitement and ardour of Italy to tell me that something that I wasn't aware of didn't exist? ‘A pack, if one emerges anyway despite our minor differences with ordinary reality, should drastically decrease the air resistance behind it- the more cars, the slower the cars that are able to stay with the pack. However it won't for you, there'll just be a slight increase in speed if you're running very close- which should be compensated for by the problems of running very close. Perhaps you could add to top, very slightly. But the top five drivers are still going to get away, you'll get no real advantage here.’ A gun. I could get a gun, shoot into the garage from distance amid the noise….
I had expected a full grid at Monza, but I was sadly disappointed. No Ferraris either, what could make the tifosi miss Monza? A Lotus or two, a few Eagles, some more Eagles. I suppose Monza must remind them of the ovals of home. Reed were far behind in the team championship, so that even with hundreds of points left we could lose today if we weren't among the front-runners. When Clark was leading the championship the Italian police arrested him. I suppose I could ring up and inquire, but Clark was a one-man team, they'd have to bring a van for my competition, something with four-wheel drive if they wanted to recover the Eagle pilots. Qualification was okay, not fantastic but at least I had kept in on the track even if I was visiting the farthest reaches of the grid. The first lap I just kept it quiet, Burt got past at Lesmo, there were no incidents and I was determined not to cause one, until Parabolica when I braked early and tried to take the outside line, but slowly, agonisingly, slid off into the gravel, not due to draft or for any reason than I hadn't the space to scrub off the extra speed on cold tyres after I'd begun to turn. Then it got much worse as I made error after error, until the tyres finally forgave me after lap 3 and I began to race again, from very last. Half the race later, I'd just caught Graham when he lost grip coming out of the Lesmos and I slowed down, which also brought the then race leader, Ian, up behind me. Graham was swerving from side to side and I tried to get behind him to allow Ian space to pass, but Ian collided with him as he swerved one last time. Will won, champagne for him and Crash’n’Burn. I was lapped, no La Dolce Vita for me then. “The most shocked about film of our years.” Religious fervour, art and love. And a giant cold fish. I wasn't sure what that was about, either.
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