Season Review

By Red Bull Racing
October 20 2006

Never mind the warblings of Francis Albert Sinatra’s “My Way,” it’s time for the final race of the year and a look back at the highs and lows of our 2006 seasons.

Yes, seasons in the plural, because this year, Red Bull Racing was joined by the mutant Love Child of its parent company and Minardi; the moody teenager of the pit lane, the lip curling, baggy trouser wearing, swearing, swaggering Scuderia Toro Rosso, kept in line by the oh so sensible Messrs. Berger and Tost. Except that Tonio Liuzzi claimed his posing and preening days were over - he was a serious racing driver now and would dress accordingly. Only those of you under the age of 20 could tell he had toned down his act.

Our launch party in Bahrain was bigger than operation Desert Storm; literally as unexpected winds blew all the dry ice and smoke away. A nice cooling wind was just what Red Bull Racing could have done with in the early part of the season, especially at super-hot Malaysia, because of pre-season “cooling issues,” which meant our engines got hotter than a Christina Aguilera video. (By the way, the Communications Department is still working hard on banning the team from using the word “issues” when they mean “problem,” “mistake” or “fuck-up” for 2007.)

The company line was that Red Bull Racing and Scuderia Toro Rosso would be fighting one another on the track, but were part of One Big Happy Family away from it. Yeah right! It only took until Race 3 for the fighting to spill over into the paddock! Scott Speed thought he had picked up a point for eighth place in Melbourne only to see the Stewards give it to David Coulthard after the race. In the Stewards room, the American told the Scotsman to “eff off” and David is reported to have clipped the cheeky youngster round the head. “My Mom taught me not to fight so I didn’t retaliate,” claimed Scott, making a feeble attempt to look angelic.

Time for Imola, where nothing changes and time stands still, except that……WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS THAT???? Our Energy Station had been working out in the gym over the winter and had doubled in size to accommodate both our teams. We also produced the Tree Houses for our engineers to work in. At the time we were not allowed to upset their sensitive egos by referring to the “monkeys in the tree house,” but the season is over so we can say what we like.

In Barcelona, we had to explain to our younger drivers that David’s landmark was competing in 200 grands prix, not being 200 year olds. To reinforce that point, DC currently looks fitter than a butcher’s dog, except that unlike the butcher’s dog, he doesn’t leave hairs all over the armchair. And a fortnight later, he stepped onto the podium in Monaco. Would this be the right time to point out that it would have been Christian Klien shaking hands with the Monegasque royals if his car had not let him down? But, with hindsight, given his size, the Austrian would have looked more like one of Snow White’s vertically challenged friends than Superman, in that long red cape. That cape came in useful after the race to cover Christian Horner’s modesty, as he fulfilled a promise by jumping naked into the swimming pool inside the Energy Station. Both the cape and parts of Mr. Horner suffered shrinkage after their dip.

As we crossed the Pond to the North American races, inexplicably, Scott Speed was the centre of attention. Who does he think he is, Danica Patrick? “It was the voices in my head made me do it,” replied our copywriter when Mr. Ecclestone asked why he had written another rude French preview. With Renault engines on the way for 2007, we may have seen the last of the Froggy Bashing.

The long summer droned on, with endless “Thirstday” parties in the Energy Station, as usual enlivened by the arrival of the Formula Una ladies. This year to add some intellect to their competition the girls were encouraged to dye their blonde hair to brunette and wear spectacles. Of course, wherever you have pretty girls, you find old racing drivers and fellow countrymen, Dr. Helmut Marko and Niki Lauda were frequent visitors, a poignant reminder of how dangerous F1 was in the old days, with three eyes and two ears between them. Motor racing is still dangerous and our own Adrian Newey found that out this summer, surviving two big crashes behind the wheel of his old racing car. Hopefully, the knock on the head won’t affect his work for 2007: “why are the big wheels at the front Adrian?”

The youngsters at Toro Rosso showed plenty of enthusiasm, but not always backed up with wisdom: “and Scott Speed is the first driver to switch to dry tyres, so let’s see how he’s getting on,” said the TV commentator as the cameras instantly picked up our American pirouetting down the wet track in Budapest.

In Monza, we bade farewell to Christian Klien and said hello to Robert Doornbos, who got the drive by being a better self-publicist than PT Barnum and by having a really cute sister. On track this year, not too much to shout about and the relative performance of both teams meant that many races saw our four drivers competing in what Scott Speed, rapidly becoming the Dorothy Parker of the teams, summed up as “The Red Bull Cup.” No one ever said it was going to be easy.

“regrets, we’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention, we did what we had to do and saw it through without exemption….”