Honda’s Nick Fry reckons that Juan Pablo Montoya would have fared better in F1 had he raced for a team more sensitive to the driver’s needs. It is certainly true that Williams, Montoya’s first F1 employer, is renowned for having a “robust” attitude towards drivers (although it should also be said that Frank Williams knows a good thing when he sees it – he wanted Senna as a Williams driver for years before the Brazilian finally made the switch). And Juan Pablo’s second team, McLaren, are also regarded as fairly picky when it comes to drivers – if you click with the team, you’ll succeed; if not, you might find yourself out in the cold. Whether Montoya would have done better with Honda, as Nick Fry is suggesting, is a moot point, of course.

But is it right that a driver should expect to be “understood” and assisted in his weak areas? The old saying, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen,” might come to mind at this point. I suppose it depends upon how much potential the driver displays.

Ken Tyrrell was known as the team manager that could build drivers into champions. Any number of drivers benefited from his advice and encouragement but the best example is probably Jody Scheckter. Early in his F1 career, Scheckter was blamed for an enormous pile-up in the British GP and he was labeled as wild and unruly until Tyrrell got hold of him. Under Ken’s guidance, Scheckter developed until Ferrari became interested in him and the result was a world championship.

Scheckter’s early problems were not really the result of a complex psyche, however – he was young and eager, just needing to be restrained and taught patience. The speed was always there. Drivers like Frentzen and Hakkinen were more complicated and needed to feel wanted if they were to give of their best.

Hakkinen had the good fortune to get on well with Ron Dennis and the rest of the McLaren team and his talent blossomed as a result. But Frentzen never felt at ease with the team that gave him his best chance, Williams, and he soon left. It was his bad luck to click only with second rank teams like Sauber and Jordan, achieving some outstanding results with them but never being in with a good shot at the championship.

So is it worth putting time and effort into a driver’s psychology? I think it must be in that a team that is working together without interpersonal stresses is bound to function more effectively than one that is riven by undercurrents of dissatisfaction. Nick Fry is right to think that Montoya could have been handled better and, judging from the patience with which Button and Barrichello are being treated at Honda, it could be that Fry would have brought out the best in the Colombian. Personally, I doubt it, however.

Montoya has an ego the size of Colombia. That is not really a problem, as demonstrated by Michael Schumacher, but Montoya also has a sensitivity to criticism that is completely alien to Michael. Let Juan Pablo hear that he is being blamed for a few accidents and his anger boils over at the injustice of it all. He is what we might call “fairly volatile”.

Whether Nick Fry could cope with a driver who reacts so passionately to criticism remains to be seen. In Barrichello and Button he has two of the most stable and well adjusted drivers in the paddock. Montoya would be a very different kettle of fish.

Now that his son, Nico, is in F1 and showing well, it seems appropriate to remember the great days of Keke Rosberg. For sheer entertainment and guts, Keke was one to watch.

He was the master in adversity, known for his skills in the wet and a fighter in uncompetitive cars. Right from the beginning, the BRDC International Trophy race in 1978, which he won by speed in a downpour that was catching out all the great names of the time, his car control was amazing. Give him a street circuit and he would muscle his way to the front, regardless of whether his car was any good or not.

For many years it looked as if Keke would never get a competitive drive; he went from Theodore to ATS, Wolf and Fittipaldi, always getting more out of his car than it wanted to give but somehow beneath the notice of the top teams. Even when he secured a drive with Williams in 1982, it was in their last year of Cosworth engines while everyone else had turbos.

But Keke did wonders with the under-powered car, exploiting its reliability and handling to amass a points total that gained him the championship. 1982 is renowned as the year that no-one wanted to be champion, no driver winning more than two races and Keke only one, but this ignores the fact that the Finn was always up with the leaders, ready to take advantage of any problems they might have. He deserved his championship more than many who have cruised to it in superior machinery.

Keke’s awful luck continued after that, however, and he spent three more years with Williams, suffering as they struggled to get some reliability from their new Honda engine. With classic Rosberg timing, he left them just at the moment when they were about to become the cars to beat and joined the McLaren team as they slid from the heights.

One year with them was enough for him and he retired at the end of 1986. He had not fared well against his teammate, Alain Prost, and decided to call it a day. We should not forget that the McLaren was particularly suited to Prost’s smooth driving style, however, and that Keke was best in a car that didn’t mind being sideways occasionally.

Perhaps that is why Keke was never given a drive by the top team of the moment; the call was for smoothness and Keke’s ragged but quick style was as out of place as the man himself. For he was as unique off the track as on it. Unfashionably, he was a smoker and would disappear from the pits for a cigarette at quiet moments. And his priorities were different from those of the hard professionals who were dominating the sport.

There was one race where Keke came into the pits for refueling and a flash fire erupted around him. He leapt from the car but already the fire was out and the mechanics were urging him to get back in. Race forgotten, Keke was protesting, “My mustache! It burned my mustache!”

That was Keke, old school and flamboyant, but as quick as they come. I found a couple of clips on YouTube that illustrate his dashing style and grit:

Rosberg and Gilles, Long Beach 1982

Rosberg and de Angelis, Austria 1982

One of the great characters of motor racing, Clay Regazzoni, died in a road accident yesterday. Over his ten year racing career, we came to know him not only as an aggressive and unpredictable driver but also as an ebullient and tenacious personality. The terrible accident at Long Beach in 1980 that left him paralyzed from the waist down did not defeat him – he learned to drive with hand controls and even competed in motor sport again.

Clay’s great years were with Ferrari and he finished third in the Championship in 1970, second in 1974. But the moment I remember best was the British Grand Prix of 1979, when Clay gave the Williams team their first ever victory. His teammate, Alan Jones, had been threatening to win all year but it was somehow fitting that Clay should get there first; his fluctuating fortunes deserved that success at last.

And that was the thing about Clay – you could never tell how he was going to drive. At times he seemed lackluster, content to stroll around in mid-field; at others he was sensational, finding unexpected speed and determination. Perhaps this explains why he did not become a fixture at Ferrari, in spite of his enormous popularity with the Italian fans.

Clay was consistent in his cheerfulness, however, never letting his waning fortune get him down. This became enormously important to his recovery after the Long Beach accident.

For a decade Clay was the smiling, mustachioed face of F1, the driver everyone liked. He was all entertainment with his uninhibited driving and occasional upsetting of the status quo. F1 could do with more like him.

While all eyes are focused on Ferrari as they begin their re-organization of the team after the departure of Michael Schumacher and Ross Brawn, Williams are quietly undergoing a revolution too. With new financial backing from AT&T, the communications giant, and new employees pouring into the factory, the possibility of a Williams revival presents itself.

That is the thing with Williams: you just cannot write them off. They have proved too often in the past that they can compete at the highest level and their dissatisfaction with their results this year, plainly spoken of by Sir Frank and Patrick Head, has increased their determination to make a come-back. Add everything together and you have a team with enormous potential: good finance, fresh blood, Toyota engines and long experience.

The traditional Williams weaknesses remain, however, the most obvious one being their attitude to drivers. Sir Frank has always regarded the driver as just another component to be slotted in and out at will and his replacement of Mark Webber with the much cheaper Alex Wurz is just another example of this. Had the AT&T deal come along sooner, the team might have retained Webber; as it is, their driver line-up for next year looks a little frail.

Yes, Nico Rosberg seems quick, honest and professional. But he is still young and prone to occasional mistakes. So the experience will have to be supplied by Alex and he’s had plenty of it. He is competent and sometimes quick but somehow that extra spark of determination is lacking. What the team needs for next year is a star and I don’t think they have one.

Perhaps the most important part of the equation is the Toyota engine deal. As I have said previously, this may be the first step in a process that results in a Toyota/Williams merger in the future. Toyota is hungry for success and isn’t getting it; Williams miss past glories and want them back. If the two teams can combine their talents, they might both achieve their ambitions.

Looking into my crystal ball, I see 2007 as an important year for Williams. Never mind the championships, constructor’s or driver’s; their aim must be to beat the Toyotas. If they can do that, their future is assured.