ON
TRACK WITH RICK PEARSON #28
By Rick Pearson
Welcome to the eleventh of this year's columns. This week we continue our look at the role of the race engineer otherwise known as, "Why no-one should go down to the track without their Friend."
The drivers view: Looking at the breakdown of the race engineer's weekend makes you realise how critical the job is and why I consider myself privileged to be a Mark Fish team driver and have Mark himself as team manager and Bob Friend as my race engineer.
Immediately you will notice that for me the race engineer's role is split between two men. Whilst Mark handles the mental preparation of the driver, Bob is responsible for the engineering and the three of us decide race set-ups between us. As we come to the race weekend, much of the engineering work is done and assuming the engineer has pulled the driver out of the car before he got too tired on the test day and rolled it into a ball, the car will just need another head- to- toe check over before venturing out to qualify.
Set-up for qualifying will likely have been decided during testing when the driver pulled into the pits and said "Don't change a thing, it's perfect!" This assumes he was fastest in the session at that time. if he was languishing down the time sheet there is going to be some sulking, foot stomping and then guesswork on the settings!
The testing times will also affect the mental attitude of the driver going in to the qualification session. A good grid position is critical for a good race finish, especially in a Championship where there is little performance difference between the cars, and also where if you are in the middle of the pack, you are likely to experience a little panel banging.
I was fortunate last year to find myself fastest in testing on a couple of occasions and then gone into the qualifying session knowing that I had the car to take Pole, if I didn't I had failed myself and just as badly, the team. Although this may seem like extra pressure, in fact, reducing the doubt that the car is fast enough often helps clear the mind and gives the driver that extra confidence necessary to put in the lap.
Although if you ruin the tyres and fail to get that pole- winning time, you can expect the pit board to be thrown around and lots of banging of spanners and fuel churns as your trusted mechanic vents his frustration at your ineptitude. Once the car has been completely race-checked after qualifying, the mental side of the race engineer's task will now take over almost completely. The driver will know his grid position, and he will therefore know where he is lining up and who is around him. For a two-day meeting, the race-engineer may need to ensure his driver gets a decent meal and a good night's sleep. A focused driver may struggle to do either with pre-race nerves dancing in his stomach and the engineer will often have to virtually force feed him. Clearly one look at my waistline is sufficient to prove that I don't suffer from this...
So, your driver ate his meal and slept like a baby, now it's dawn on race day and he is stomping around the tent. A bundle of nervous energy. If he keeps this up he is going to be shattered before he gets to the grid. Once again the race engineer needs to step in, ensconce him in a copy of Evo or the Sunday Times (depending on level of literacy), and try and stop him wearing himself out pacing up and down.
Sunday morning is also the time where the press will drop by to interview the budding super star. It is always cunning if he is there at this point as they are usually just as happy to interview his team mates (who are just as happy to be interviewed!) so long as something goes on film. However, this can cause some friction if he loses his bit of media glory at the last moment!
The next toughest task is stopping the driver making set-up changes before the start of the race. Unless the weather changes, there should be no reason to alter the car far from the qualifying settings. This doesn't mean the driver won't try! Take a lesson from my team manager, who will sit with me for hours on end listening to me debate the need to soften the car to try and dial out some imaginary handling problem before gently helping me conclude that the set-up we have is the best compromise.
Come the race, I get the impression that the team are glad when I get in the car and can't cause any more trouble. Pretty much as soon as the helmet is on, they will shut the car door and leave me to my thoughts and they then start the lonely vigil on the pitwall. To see the car they have lovingly prepared and tended head off into the cloud of smoke that designates the first corner of any Clio race must be distinctly unnerving. That first lap must appear to last a lifetime as they wait for their cars to reappear. But before you know it, the race is over and the cars are in scrutineering, the mechanics having to crawl under red-hot engines and exhausts to remove some designated part for the scrutineer to examine.
Meanwhile, the driver, no longer dependent on them telling him when to eat/sleep/breath is off on a lap of honour spraying the champagne whilst they know they have a long evening ahead listening to a blow-by-blow account of the glorious victory whilst they dismantle the awning, pack the truck and then head home to start the whole process again.
Next week, my race engineer Rob makes a return with his version of race day events.