Prost’s position: 10 lessons from the Professor

Alain Prost earned the nickname “The Professor” thanks to his meticulous and intelligent approach to racing. He was unmatched in his careful tuning of his cars, obsessed with the smallest details while retaining the essential lessons long after.

There are countless anecdotes that reveal Alain Prost's personality and his success on the racetrack. Here are ten memorable moments, each accompanied by a comment from the Professor (source: Maître de mon destin, Michel Lafon, 1988). Karting, 1972-1975 – After falling in love with a sport that had not yet become the standard training ground, Prost took up karting. He saved up like any teenager, bought his first kart and his first engine, gained experience, and started scoring points. He then reinvested, acquiring a better chassis, and eventually turned his passion into a livelihood, becoming the official distributor for several regions of SOVAME, the importer of the best chassis and engines in the sport. The journey was not without conflict. “A teammate of Goldstein, a four-time world karting champion, was waiting for me to make a mistake. Despite all my precautions, he forced me to spin out. When I got out of the kart and pushed him away, Goldstein was right behind me. In the last right-hand turn, he hit me with his bumper, causing me to skid and overtake me. During the lap of honor, he waited for me, held out his hand for the usual handshake, and I lost my temper. I was furious; I rammed into him at full speed, jumped out of the kart, and punched him in the face. He was two heads taller than me, but I hit him hard, and his nose still remembers it. ” Elf driving, 1975 – The Elf scholarship was a springboard for many French drivers, including Prost. He chose Paul Ricard for the test because the weather there was usually better than at Magny-Cours. Ironically, when it rained, he was the only driver who didn't spin out. He deliberately arrived late for his semi-final, claiming a flat tire, in order to spot the best car for the second semi-final. The competition coincided with his military service; after abusing his leave, he falsified one, using his position as a secretary—a job he had never done on a typewriter. “Every year, on the eve of the final, the five selected drivers are interviewed for a press kit. When I was asked, ‘What will you do if you don't become an Elf driver?', I replied confidently, ‘I will be an Elf driver.' The file simply stated: ‘Does not consider failing in the final. ” McLaren, 1980 – Prost could have made his debut at the end of 1979 when Teddy Mayer offered him a seat for the United States Grand Prix. Not wanting to rush into anything, he declined and suggested a private test during the offseason, which Ron Dennis' predecessor agreed to. After beating American Kevin Cogan in the comparative test, Prost had a convincing first season (dominating John Watson and finishing sixth in his first Grand Prix), but his McLaren proved fragile; a faulty suspension caused the only two major accidents of his career. Plagued by wrist pain and frustration, he left the team before the final race. “From time to time, Teddy seemed to be fifty years behind the times: for the Italian Grand Prix, he made us get up at 4:30 a.m. to avoid traffic jams. We arrived at the circuit at 5 a.m. and then waited eight hours to have breakfast. How could we be rested and focused before a Grand Prix in those conditions?”

Renault, France 1982 – Prost never won the hearts of the French public, and his clash with René Arnoux at the 1982 French Grand Prix contributed to this. Arnoux was in the lead, but the team ordered him to let Prost pass, as Prost was still in contention for the championship, unlike Arnoux. Arnoux ignored the order and won the race. Renault, satisfied with the one-two finish, did not penalize him. Prost, who was not one to mince his words, revealed the team's tactics and faced a negative reaction from the public: a gas station attendant, mistaking him for Arnoux as he returned from the circuit, told him that he had been right to stay in the lead because “that Prost is a real little jerk.”

Prost's reputation as the “professor” of Formula 1 was based not only on his raw speed, but also on his unwavering attention to the details that make a race car work. From the mid-1980s onwards, he turned every setback into a lesson in precision, and his own words reveal how this mindset shaped some of the sport's most memorable moments.

In 1985, after Niki Lauda announced his retirement, Ron Dennis asked Prost to suggest a successor. He gave him a shortlist that included Keke Rosberg, Michele Alboreto, Elio de Angelis, and Ayrton Senna, emphasizing drivers who could serve the collective goal of the team rather than seek personal glory. “Success always depends on the collaboration of the whole team until the start of the race,” he later explained, emphasizing his belief that a driver's value lies in his ability to fit into a larger whole. This philosophy was put to the test in Adelaide in 1986. While Nelson Piquet and Nigel Mansell dominated in their Williams-Hondas, Prost remained within striking distance by exploiting his fluid, tire-conserving style. Impressed by the impeccable condition of his tires, Goodyear engineers assumed they would last the entire race. When they finally warned the drivers, Mansell's tire exploded and Piquet lost ground, leaving Prost to win a world title that seemed almost accidental. Soichiro Honda himself congratulated the Frenchman on his performance. Prost's candor resurfaced after the race. “I didn't feel confident, the fuel gauge was at zero with two laps to go,” he recalled, describing the final sprint that allowed him to finish four seconds ahead of Piquet. The next morning, the headlines read: “Prost, champion of a thriller in Adelaide.”

A year later, at the Brazilian Grand Prix, Prost faced a new challenge: a late-arriving chassis and a revamped technical team following the departure of John Barnard and the arrival of Gordon Murray. Relying on his memory of previous cars, he reduced downforce and adopted familiar settings, transforming a seemingly uncompetitive package into a race-winning machine. “Ron Dennis was laughing, which was rare for him,” Prost said, highlighting how his quiet confidence had won over even the most skeptical engineers. The rivalry with Ayrton Senna really began when the two drivers shared the McLaren garage. Prost admitted to “playing a little joke” to remind Senna that the team's resources were shared. After completing a few test laps, he remained seated in the car while the team fitted new tires for Senna, then unbuckled his harness as the Brazilian grew impatient. This incident set the tone for a partnership that would oscillate between cooperation and fierce competition. Prost's tactical sense was once again evident at the 1990 Mexican Grand Prix, arguably his finest victory with Ferrari. Starting in thirteenth position, he deliberately sacrificed Saturday's qualifying session to perfect the car's settings, knowing that it performed just as well with a full tank as it did with little fuel. While Berger and Senna struggled with tire wear, Prost's measured approach allowed him to move up through the field and claim an unexpected victory, sparking a run of three consecutive wins that culminated in Ferrari's 100th Grand Prix victory at the French Grand Prix.

Looking back on that triumph, Prost summed up the driving force behind his career: “In moments like these, you forget the dark days, the controversies, the accusations. For me, that victory was worth a world championship.” ” His legacy is therefore not just a collection of titles, but also a testament to the power of methodical thinking, team harmony, and quiet confidence that can transform the limitations of a race car into an advantage for the driver. Ferrari's 1991 season in Japan and Australia would later resemble the calm before the storm. About eighteen months later, relations between the team and its star driver had deteriorated. The team, now plagued by a conservative approach and incessant power struggles that had intensified after Enzo Ferrari's death, was unable to deliver the results Prost expected. The Frenchman failed to win a single Grand Prix, a drought unprecedented since 1980. Tensions reached a peak at Suzuka when Prost compared the car's handling to that of a “truck.” This remark, taken out of context, became the pretext used by management to fire him, even as he was negotiating a dual role as driver and sporting director. Barely two weeks later, Luca di Montezemolo, who had just replaced the ousted Ferrari president, called Prost back and offered him his job back.

“They seized on the slightest excuse they could find, and I gave it to them,” Prost later said. “I never said my Ferrari was a truck; I said the steering was as hard as a truck's. The press distorted my words and gave the impression that I was comparing the whole car to a truck. When they tried to play the interview during the trial, the recording was nowhere to be found. Strange, isn't it?”

Content written by Matthieu Mastalerz and published by www.FranceF1.fr.