"It's my ball, so it's my game. What I say goes, or I take my ball back."

Thank Heavens that scenario is behind us, almost. Take the example of Phoenix, the group which has bought bits of Prost. Phoenix has 2001 Prost cars and Tom Walkinshaw has a stack of old TWR engines. It also has Gastone Mazzacane rarin' to go and Argentine money is as good as anyone's, isn't it? Okay, maybe Gastone brings cans of corned beef to the negotiating table, millions of 'em, and an offer to teach the Squat Scot how to tango.

Phoenix has been told that it cannot race until 2003 and then it has to post a (returnable) bond of $48 million. I know the true story behind the returnable bond. It began with Max and an old mate thinking of a $6 million bond to keep Toyota out. The 12th place was up for grabs and Max's Mate had a deal in place. As the evening wore on, the bond doubled to $12 million, then doubled again and again as the wine went down. This is a true story and I heard it from Max's Mate, from his own lips, in his house. Is that one scary story, or what?

Max's Mate knew that he had to beat Toyota to the slot and reckoned that a large corporation moved so slowly that to raise a cheque of $48 million would take forever. Max's Mate got the money in place ready to hand over the cheque on the Friday and Toyota slapped down its cheque on the Thursday.

Spare place on the grid right now.

Who says that there can only be 24 entrants? There is a good reason why the number of starters should be restricted, chief among them being safety. You can have 33 starters at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, but Indy is vast and the cars line up behind a pace car for a rolling start. Even then there have been terrible first-lap pile?ups.

At Indianapolis, however, anyone can post an entry. You slap down your money, you arrive with your car, and then you attempt to qualify. It has been known for there to be more than 90 entrants. If you qualify, you're in. If you don't qualify, you watch the race on television. It's that simple. There is no clause whereby you can plead force majeure, which is how Takuma Sato was able to make the start in Melbourne.

The biggest name in American open-wheel racing is Team Penske. A few years ago, Penske could not get a car among the top 33. Result? No Penske raced.

The Captain accepted it. He did everything he could with his cash and and the Captain's wedge stretches to infinity. Penske bought cars from other teams, he did everything that was legal. Finally he had to throw in the towel and he did so with dignity.

Can you imagine the weeping, the wailing and the gnashing of teeth if that happened to Ferrari, or McLaren? Penske Racing has won more often at Indianapolis than any other team. Team Penske has won more often than any five other teams. Roger did everything he could to make the grid, but one thing he did not do was to make excuses.

No excuses, how wonderful that phrase seems in the present circumstance.

The driving force of FOCA was that it would guarantee to deliver 16 cars to the grid. That is all, 16 cars. The Concorde Agreement says that the top ten teams, 20 cars, share the television rights, and that to a formula known only to a few. The television rights hold the key and Bernie, may he ever fire on the first turn of the key, has been very clever. While every other sport has been demanding more and more clam shells, Formula One has been selling under the market rate. Not much under, but under the market rate.

The Bundasliger in Germany is staring collapse in the face because between a half and a third of the income of most German soccer clubs comes from television money. And the money is scheduled to come from Kirch. Kirch is the company which owns the pay-to-view rights for Formula One and which is now on its knees. Buying F1 rights from SLEC, the Ecclestone family trust, has not helped Kirch, but it is not the sole reason for Kirch imploding. If Kirch does go, it won't affect Formula One, but it could see the collapse of the Bundasliger.