Watching F1 in the 1980s invariably meant getting up late at night because of the time difference. It was a bit of a running battle in the Webber household as the next morning was usually a school day! The compromise was that I would go to bed early and dad would wake me up at around 11.30pm for the formation lap. I really used to enjoy sitting up late with dad watching the races although quite often he would fall asleep!

The first GP I watched on TV was when Nigel Mansell crashed going up the hill in the rain at Monaco in 1984.

The first GP, in fact the first car race meeting I ever attended, was the Australian GP in Adelaide in 1987. Dad and I drove there – just the two of us – and it took us 14 hours. I sat on the front straight and watched pre-qualifying on the Thursday and I couldn’t believe there was actually someone sat behind the steering wheel driving the cars; they were that quick. The noise was deafening and seeing my heroes; Prost, Senna, Mansell, Berger, Piquet, in front of me was something I never forgot. But, having seen them in action, I didn’t think that I ever wanted to be like them and race in F1; it wasn’t until I started karting that the dream began formulating in my mind.

In fact, my first intro to motor racing was a million miles removed from F1. The kind of racing I used to enjoy when I was very young was dirt bikes, and sprint cars and midget car racing on the local speedway at Tralee. I remember going on Friday and Saturday nights and sitting on dad’s shoulders watching the likes of Steve Kinser who had come over from the States to race the Aussie stars like George Tatnell and Garry Rush.

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