Ecclestone the Ringmaster: Aging Formula 1 boss shows no signs of slowing down

Despite his 77 years, Bernie Ecclestone shows no sign of relinquishing the hold which he has exerted on Formula 1 racing since 1972. Slightly-built, gray-haired and quick-witted, he likes to deny that the billions he's made from promoting F1 racing are in his own name. "I'm just lucky to be married to a wealthy woman," he snaps at enquirers. Evidently Mrs Slavica Ecclestone, a native of Croatia, has better access than her British-born husband does to the sort of off-shore tax shelters where the family resources can grow in their retirement.

Not that Ecclestone himself plans to hang up his negotiating skills any time soon. He's currently in the middle of arranging what could be an early exit from a contract with the city of Melbourne, Australia, which hosts the opening round of the FIA World Drivers' Championship on March 16. Australia is widely acknowledged to be the most sports-minded nation in the world, and F1 has fitted in well since the category was first contested there in 1985. Now, though, down-under enthusiasts appear to have fallen out of love with the flashy open-wheelers and their enormously well-paid drivers.

For the wily English entrepreneur, the best solution would be to let the race go -- as he did with the US round at Indianapolis after the 2006 event. Paradoxically, this objective has received a surprising level of support from Melbourne itself, and for good reason. When the race arrived in their city in 1996, local taxpayers were blithely informed that the event would not cost them a penny. When the cash losses leveled out at around $7 million a year, they grumbled a bit. Reluctantly, some then admitted that they enjoyed hearing the race visitors' foreign accents on their streets and knowing that the state of Victoria was becoming known internationally.

But that attitude has changed since local journalists started to chisel away in search of more information. The Grand Prix Corporation complied, though only reluctantly. It has since been revealed that consolidated losses for the four most recent races are likely to top $100 million.

Despite the fact that the race organisers (who are answerable to the state government) long ago signed a long-term contract with Ecclestone which won't expire until 2010, the objectors have chosen to aim their venom at him personally. They bristled when he suggested that a night race (under expensive lights) would allow European viewers to tune in live on Sunday morning. Australians, they point out, have always had to wait until way past midnight to see coverage of races in France, Germany and Britain.

Ecclestone, though, is not being unreasonable. Australia's population only recently crept over 20 million, a fraction of the numbers in its traditional European stronghold. All sport, not excluding the Olympic Games, have to be commercial. For the next Games, from London in 2012, many of the events are scheduled to start at times of the day which, however inconvenient they may be for competitors, will fill slots aimed at attracting TV viewers in the US, not to mention advertisers there.

It isn't hard to see who is likely to be the ultimate winner of the skirmishing in Melbourne. All around the world, the governments of numerous emerging nations see motor racing as a cost-effective way of promoting themselves. It's far cheaper than laying on a month of Olympics or soccer's World Cup, both of which take place only once every four years.

The F1 World Championship is an annual event, with contracts awarded to organising countries for periods of at least five years. There is the additional advantage in countries like China (which has had a Grand Prix since 2006) and Russia (which is now in discussions about one) that journalists tend to be a lot less inquisitive than their pesky cousins in Australia.

While nothing has yet been decided in Melbourne, the city may find itself ruing the day that it chose to cross swords with Ecclestone. It is safe to assume, though, that the man himself will have no regrets. After all, he has the knack of making new and wealthy friends wherever he goes.