Frank is right to call Damon's bluff

"Ruthless" Frank Williams, Damon Hill's ex-boss, has been roundly castigated for giving 1996's likely - and deserved - world champion the ejector seat this year instead of the number one seat next year. But rather than scorn, I reckon crafty Frank deserves a medal - which I've tagged the OCS (Order of Common Sense).

At last one of our sporting bosses has had the guts to stand up to one of our overpaid sportsmen and call his bluff. Williams reckons there was no need to pay Damon the reputed $12m he demanded. Instead he'll pay the German Heinz-Harald Frentzen $6m, save himself six million bucks and, such is the excellence of the Williams-Renault package, still win as many races as he would have done had Damon stayed put.

Fine driver though Damon is, the main reason that Williams-Renault drivers win races is because they have Williams-Renault cars. And you can bet the blokes responsible for that - technical director Patrick Head, chief designer Adrian Newey and the various Renault engine gurus - don't get paid $12m or even a twelfth of that. And they don't have lawyers or managers negotiating their salaries, all after their 10 per cents. Damon's "representative" at the negotiating table with Williams was Michael Breen. Damon, remember, has driven for Frank for four years and was a Williams test driver before that, so it's safe to assume the two men know each other quite well.

Would it really have been that difficult for Damon to sit down with Frank Williams to negotiate his own salary, just as you or I would do with our bosses? Some Grand Prix drivers now even have their own publicists, on top of pilots for their private jets, their personal baggage handlers and minders, lawyers, managers, trainers, psychologists, motivators, accountants and, for all I know, travelling butlers, maids, shoe-shiners and fashion consultants.

It's easy to see where the vainglory comes from: most Formula One drivers simply believe all the pretentious twaddle written and said about them by the adoring sporting and popular media, who've built them up into modern- day Greek gods. In fact they're simply normal men who happen to be supremely good at one thing: driving a car fast. As with being able to kick a football well, or hit a tennis ball or a golf ball hard, common sense tells you that this is not the greatest of gifts that God could give us. But, at the moment, sporting prowess just happens to be one of the most remunerative of all natural skills.

Frank Williams is said to loathe the self-important smugness of most modern Grand Prix drivers, and is quite happy to give short shrift to helmeted prima donnas. He let go of Nelson Piquet, Nigel Mansell and Alain Prost when they won championships for him. And, in every case, the drivers he hired to replace them - often for much less money - did as good a job. That's not "ruthless" (to quote one newspaper). That's smart.

Other team managers have similarly low opinions of the stars. I remember talking to Ron Dennis, boss of the McLaren team, a couple of years ago. He told me he thought drivers were overpaid and took too much credit for a team's success. "It's an unfortunate trait, but they're all selfish. None are generous. They've accumulated huge wealth from Formula One and yet none of them seem to remember the little things, such as the birthdays of their mechanics' wives. How hard would it be to send flowers or a card? But none of them do it," he said.

The pity is that Damon is commonly reckoned, along with Gerhard Berger, to be one of the nicer F1 blokes: more of the old-style chivalrous racer, kind to fans and reasonably approachable. His negotiating position was probably not due to greed or because he's an egomaniac but because nowadays that's how top sportsmen are expected to behave. Nonetheless, Williams has made an example of him. Next year, if team-mate Jacques Villeneuve wins the championship in a Williams-Renault (which is likely) you can bet he'll be a little reluctant to send in his 10-percenters to talk tough and ask for a big pay hike for '98.

Grand Prix drivers, of course, are no different from any other famous sportsmen (or film stars or pop stars or supermodels or "new" royals) whose egos also blossom under the limelight like roses in the sunshine. These darlings of the media get paid millions, while top company chairmen get vilified for earning much less but actually, in the grand scheme of things, doing much more good. The major difference seems to me that sportsmen are young, look good and wear funny clothes while performing, whereas company bosses are usually fat and old and wear grey suits. Everyone loves sporting idols, while only pension funds love good company chairmen. So Alan Shearer and Damon Hill are adored and poor Cedric Brown and George Simpson, the new boss of GEC, are castigated. You can easily see why it is so but, actually, it makes no sense.

That's why I salute brave Frank Williams and wish him every success for the 1997 world championship. Even if I - probably like him - will be cheering for Damon to win this weekend, and sew up his first world championship.