How to Build a Car: The Autobiography of the World’s Greatest Formula 1 Designer

by Adrian Newey

Mario wasn’t aware of it, and without a radio we couldn’t warn him to slow down. He disappeared off through turn one and two, a pair of flat-out left-hand corners at Laguna, and then we heard this huge boom boom boom. It was a sickening sound. We scrambled into the hire cars, me knowing full well that the crash was partly my mistake. I should have insisted we put a radio in the car before we started testing. The first thing we spotted was some bodywork. Then we got to the complete back end, gearbox and rear wheels lying in the middle of the track. Finally we arrived at the tub, the chassis. It lay on its side where rain had washed away the banking to form a ditch. One wheel was still attached. It was like a light aircraft crash, wreckage everywhere, and there, standing among it all, was Mario, looking in puzzlement at his watch. ‘Are you okay?’ we said breathlessly. He tapped at his watch. ‘Goddamned watch has stopped,’ he said. That was Mario. A brilliant driver and a real tough cookie.