By lap 40 I was on his (Schumacher’s) tail. As we sliced our way through Eau Rouge on that lap, we both lifted momentarily, and powered our way towards Les Combes. Eau Rouge was a majestic corner in those days, almost flat but not quite, a real test of man and machine. I had taken it well, perhaps a little better than Michael had, and, as he and I approached the braking area for Les Combes, I decided to try to outbrake him.
I thrust the nose of my McLaren-Mercedes alongside his Ferrari, and prepared to brake late. But Michael saw me coming, and chopped across me, at 300km/h (186mph), his right rear tire touching my left front wing endplate as I lifted so as to back out of the maneuver.
After the race, Michael received a lot of criticism for that high-speed chop, but, now, 15 years later, I have no problem with it. I massively enjoyed my Formula 1 career, and one of its highlights was my ongoing rivalry with Michael. I respected him, and I think he respected me. We raced each other hard, but for the most part we also raced each other fairly. He was a terrifically combative competitor, but you could say that about all the great champions. You do not win seven world championships by being soft-hearted, and Michael was never that; but he was a superb driver, one of the best in the history of the sport in fact.
As I drove the remainder of lap 40, I could tell that, although my left front wing endplate had been slightly damaged, my car was still handling beautifully. I knew the entry to Les Combes was going to be the only place where I was going to be able t0 pass Michael, but I also knew that I would have to make my maneuver a very decisive one, simply because Michael was not likely to give up the lead easily. He had made that abundantly clear already. So, as we began lap 41, I decided to take a risk.
It was a big risk, but it was a calculated risk. I was going to take Eau Rouge flat. In those days, taking Eau Rouge flat was not something for the faint-hearted. It was extremely difficult, and the penalty for getting it wrong was usually an enormous accident. Worse still, the track was still damp off-line, so I knew I would have to be millimeter-perfect – not an easy thing to be in the world’s most daunting corner, foot to the floor, powering through the apex towards a blind exit.
As I approached that (in)famous corner, I was right behind Michael. As I turned in, every fiber of my being was imploring me to lift. I decided to count to three, daring myself to keep my foot planted on the loud pedal as I counted, knowing that by the time I got to three I would either have taken Eau Rouge flat or would be in the barriers. There was no in-between, of that I was 100 per cent sure.
‘One,’ I said aloud, and the car began to tremble, assaulted by tremendous g-forces, both lateral and compressional. I knew I would have to fight the car if I was going to avoid a shunt, and I will be honest: I also knew I would have to fight my own fear.
‘Two,’ I gasped, sawing at the wheel as the car was pitched first this way and then that. For a split second, right in the middle of the corner, I thought I could not hold it. The car was absolutely on tippy-toes, but then it gripped, and clung on.
‘Three,’ I yelped, just as the car went scarily light on the exit of the corner. It is always a nasty feeling when a race car goes light at high speed, but, again, the car continued to hold on. I had done it. I had taken Eau Rouge flat, in a race not in a qualifying session, with only a very narrow dry line on which to do it.
Ahead of me on the straight, Michael had clearly not taken Eau Rouge flat, because I was now catching him at a rate of knots. As we approached Les Combes, ahead of us I spotted Ricardo Zonta’s BAR-Honda, which we were about to lap.
I thought to myself, ‘Whichever way Michael goes, I’ll go the other.’ He went to the left, so I went to the right, braking as late as I dared, off-line, on a still-damp track, at 300km/h (186mph). As I turned in, I had done it; I had passed Michael; I had retaken the lead.
Through the next few turns Michael tried his best to harry me into a mistake, chucking his Ferrari around from left to right behind me, in an effort to unsettle me. As I say, he was always such a committed battler, a real racer in fact. But I held my nerve, whispering under my breath ‘Mika, keep calm, keep calm, keep calm.’
By the end of the 44th and final lap, I was still 1.1s ahead of him.
Job done. Great win. Fantastic day.”
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