Marc ’Elvis’ Priestley - The Mechanic: The Secret World of the F1 Pitlane

In the high octane atmosphere of the Formula One pit lane, the spotlight is most often on the superstar drivers. And yet, without the technical knowledge, competitive determination and outright obsession from his garage of mechanics, no driver could possibly hope to claim a spot on the podium. These are the guys who make every World Champion, and any mistakes can have critical consequences.

Thats not to say the F1 crew is just a group of highly skilled technical engineers, tweaking machinery in wind tunnels and crunching data through high spec computers. These boys can seriously let their hair down. Whether it be parties on luxury yachts in Monaco or elaborate photo opportunities in gravity-defying aeroplanes, this is a world which thrills on and off the track.

Join McLarens former Number One mechanic, Marc Elvis Priestley as he tours the world, revealing some of Formula Ones most outrageous secrets and the fiercest rivalries, all fuelled by the determination to win.

This is Formula One as youve never seen it before.

Marc Elvis Priestley worked for McLaren Racing as a Formula One mechanic and member of the pitstop crew from 2000-2009. He worked with a distinguished list of drivers including Mika Hakkinen, David Coulthard, Kimi Raikkonen, Jean Alesi, Juan Pablo Montoya, Fernando Alonso and Lewis Hamilton.

Following his retirement from McLaren, Elvis first broadcast role was as pitlane reporter for BBC Radio 5 Live, where he was able to share his vast technical experience of the cars and equipment with listeners. Since then, Elvis has become an integral part of Skys F1 coverage. He now a co-host on the channels studio based chat show, The F1 Report, as well as attending a number of Grand Prix events.

For Clare, Lexi, Leo, Rex and Ginger

Marc Priestley, or Elvis as I know him, is the perfect example of an evolution of talent.

He started out getting his hands dirty as a mechanic in Formula Ford and British Formula 3 before rising through the ranks to the pinnacle of motorsport, which is where we first met when we both worked for McLarens Formula One team. F1 attracts many, but few sustain in that rare air of competition where the correct answer to any question is Yes I can. The relentless pursuit of marginal gains with many late nights and early mornings would break a mere mortal, but Elvis represents the pinnacle of a mans desire to constantly push to be the greatest version of himself.

No other sport relies on their backroom staff in the way that Formula One does. Yes, football clubs have their physios and coaches, and tennis players their psychologists and trainers; golfers use a caddy to strategise their way around the course. But within the fine margins of a Grand Prix, a pit crew can physically and decisively alter the outcome during a race, not only with the work they do in preparation, but with the consistency of their performances in pitstops too. Operating well for three out of four stops isnt acceptable if the fourth turns out to be a nightmare. Getting even the tiniest thing wrong might prevent the driver from taking a win, and so a teams support crew can be every bit as crucial as the guys behind the wheel.

Their in depth understanding of the car and its engineering, and my reliance upon them, became truly apparent when we had a freak technical failure right before the start of one particular race. It was the Canadian Grand Prix in 2001 and I remember leaving the grid for my formation lap ahead of the imminent race start, when I felt something rattling around in the cockpit. I couldnt look down to see what was going on because I was strapped in so tightly, but once Id pulled up in my grid slot, I used what limited movement I had to scrape the mystery item along the cockpit floor towards me with my foot. It was what looked like a very big and very important gold nut.

I got on the radio straight away. Er, guys, Ive just found something floating around in the car. It looks like a big gold ring.

There was initial confusion on the pit wall. The mechanics and engineers were naturally concerned and wanted to know what it was, so I repeated my not-so-technical description.

What do you mean a big gold ring? Can you describe it in more detail? came the reply.

Its bloody big, about two and a half inches across, circular, gold, and has small holes all the way around the outside. Theres a fine thread in the middle and a big crack through the centre! I said as the remaining cars formed up noisily behind me.

As the mechanics and engineers rapidly worked out, using the spare car in the garage, what might have happened and what consequences it could have, someone suggested I throw it out of the car and over the pit wall next to my grid slot.

I couldnt believe it. There I was, attempting to ready myself for the start of a Grand Prix, all the while trying to throw what I hoped wasnt a vital part towards my mechanics. It was ridiculous, especially as I was strapped snugly into my seat and couldnt really move my arms over the sides of the cockpit. It mustve looked hilarious from the outside. I jettisoned it from the car with all the might my forearms could muster.

I tried not to panic and almost instantly the team calmly reassured me the broken nut would not present a safety risk and I should prepare as normal.

Apparently, it was a retaining nut, which was supposed to hold the front rockers in place a big part of my internal suspension buried deep at the front of the chassis, but the guys were able to explain, quickly and incisively, that its main job was to hold the rockers in during the build process or while the car was off the ground on stands in the garage. The dynamic loads going through the suspension on track were such that nothing was going to fall apart.

As ever, I had to put my trust in the guys who knew that car inside out, and as the five red lights began to light up one by one on the gantry to start the race, I confirmed I was happy to go for it and put any worry out of my mind. I had absolute faith in my team.

I did OK for the first few laps. The suspension, as predicted, was fine structurally, even if the balance of the car seemed a little strange. But halfway through the race my engine blew up, as they sometimes did back then with the extremes we were pushing them to, putting an end to any podium hopes. The failure was completely unrelated, but it showed just how stressful and chaotic life in F1 could be back then, and what an intense job the mechanics had when looking after such a complicated and technical race car.

Amongst all of this chaos over the years, Elvis was a dependable, reliable pair of hands and a great character to be around.

Its no surprise to me that after playing his part in securing Lewis Hamiltons first World Title, Elvis has moved on to his next challenge, still surrounded by engineering excellence and cars but now in his role as a TV presenter, where his easy, relaxed style makes it feel like hes putting his arm around the viewers shoulders and taking them on a walk behind the scenes of one of the biggest sports in the world. I look forward to watching him continue to push the boundaries in this field whilst inevitably looking for his next great life challenge.