Can Austin F1 ever put nightmare of Indianapolis 2005 to rest?

Formula One made a hugely popular return to the United States last year. The race was held at a new purpose built facility, the Circuit of the Americas, in Austin, Texas, which boasts an impressive layout with dramatic gradient changes that offers a real challenge to the drivers who find it tricky but ultimately satisfying to get to grips with.

It marked a new beginning for Formula One in America, a potentially lucrative market that it has never quite been able to tap successfully in the face of stiff competition from the local Nascar and IndyCar series, and for all intents and purposes was a clean break from the sport’s last foray into the country which was marred by that joke of a race around Indianapolis eight years ago.

It’s only a year in, but the resounding success of the first running of the race at Austin and the enthusiasm in the build-up to this year’s event, has slowly but surely started laying the demons of that Indianapolis race to rest and the reputation of Formula One in the US appears to be on the mend.

But as the sport prepares for its second outing at Austin, we dredge up memories of what was without a doubt one of the most farcical races in the history of the sport.

The year was 2005. Formula One was in the first year of a radical overhaul of rules aimed at stopping Michael Schumacher and Ferrari’s dominance of the sport. Among the raft of new regulations that were brought in for that season was a rule requiring all drivers to run the same set of tyres through qualifying and the race.

Unthinkable in the Pirelli era isn’t it? But that was how it was that year. Pitstops were for fuel only and tyres had to be durable enough to last through qualifying and over an entire race distance while still offering a reasonable amount of grip.

Michelin, which was supplying tyres to seven of the ten teams on the grid, got the trade-off just right and had the upper hand on Bridgestone, which put Ferrari – the only top team the Japanese company supplied tyres to – on the back foot.

But it all went horribly wrong for Michelin that weekend in Indianapolis and though they went on to win the championship with Fernando Alonso and Renault that year and successfully defended both titles in 2006, it was at that race that the seeds for the French tyre manufacturer’s eventual withdrawal from Formula One were sown.

The problems started in practice on Friday, with the Toyota of Ralf Schumacher crashing heavily when his left rear tyre failed as the German swept through the flat-out high-speed banking that leads on to the start-finish straight. A similar problem on Ricardo Zonta’s Toyota had occurred earlier in the session at turn 5, a slower part of the circuit, pitching the Brazilian into the gravel in far less dramatic fashion.

Michelin launched an investigation into the tyre failures and concluded that the rubber wasn’t safe enough to race on unless the speeds the cars carried through that banked turn 13, which places massive demands on the left rear tyre, were significantly reduced.

As the start of the race approached, there was a flurry of behind the scenes activity and a lot of back and forth aimed at hammering out a compromise to resolve the issue agreeable to all parties and one that would allow the Michelin-shod cars to participate in the race.

Several possible solutions emerged from the talks – one proposal called for the Michelin-shod runners to drive through turn 13 at reduced speed but that idea had its inherent risks as the speed differential through that corner between the Michelin runners and the far faster Bridgestone cars had the potential to trigger a very serious shunt.

Another idea called for the Michelin cars to drive through the pitlane, on the speed limiter, while yet another called for the Michelin teams to pit for a tyre change on safety grounds. However, the most popular solution that emerged called for a chicane to be constructed at the entry to turn 13.

Nine out of the ten teams, including the Bridgestone-shod Jordan and Minardi outfits, backed the idea, saying they would only race if the chicane, which would have reduced the speed the cars carried through the turn 13 banking, was put in, and Michelin also guaranteed their tyres would hold up if the chicane was built.

However, Ferrari – who hadn’t won a race so far that year – didn’t join in and the governing FIA also ruled out any changes to the track layout. Meanwhile, as the debate raged on, the start of the race was fast approaching and confusion reigned as all twenty cars lined up on the grid.

Were the Michelin-runners going to race after all? Or would they all come into the pits to retire once the race got underway? Would it be only the two Ferraris who would start the race? Would the other two Bridgestone runners, Jordan and Minardi, participate?

It was anybody’s guess and only at the end of the formation lap, when the Michelin runners peeled off into the pits was it clear that we were in for a six car race.

Jordan had broken ranks with the other nine teams and, sensing the chance to score points and possibly a podium, had opted to take the start. Minardi, who were locked in a tight battle at the back of the grid with the Silverstone-based squad, were not planning to take part, with team-boss Paul Stoddart dead against competing in the race, but Jordan’s move forced his hand.

And so it was that, to the jeers of the thousands of fans who had gathered at the ‘Brickyard’, the two Ferraris, the two Jordans and the two Minardis were the only ones who lined up for the start.

The second Ferrari of Rubens Barrichello tried to put on a spectacle, the Brazilian hassling team-mate Michael Schumacher at the start and following the second round of stops when the two very nearly came together.

But in the end it was an easy win for Schumacher, who dodged the bottles of water and cans of beer that the understandably furious fans had flung on to the track, to take the flag ahead of his team-mate and the two Jordans of Tiago Monteiro and Narain Karthikeyan who in turn finished ahead of the two Minardis.

That win was Schumacher’s sole victory that year and capped what had all in all been an embarrassing day for Formula One, a day when supposedly mature adults failed to put the interests of the sport first, instead resorting to childish bickering that reduced it to a farce.