On this day in August 2001, a politically driven decision by Eddie Jordan cost the Formula 1 drive of someone who had become an unlikely title contender just two years earlier.
The culprit? Honda, and the need to adhere to cutthroat F1 corporate agreements. The driver’s career never truly recovered after this act of ruthlessness. The driver at the centre of this furore was Heinz Harald Frentzen, and his would-be executioner was the brilliant wheeler-dealer Eddie Jordan.
Anyone who watched Only Fools and Horses in the UK will know the comparison I’m about to make here. Whilst it would be unfair to call Jordan Del Boy, his wit and ability to spot and seal a deal are equally as iconic as the lovable rogue from the East End of London. The last true privateer team in recent F1 history, it is synonymous with underdog success and fighting to do better, even if that involved making cold-blooded decisions.
His team mattered to him on a level that simply does not exist today. His brand, carefully constructed, depended on the right people being in the right roles at the right time to survive. Where needed, he had no issue in disciplining drivers. No finer example exists than in 1997, when Ralf Schumacher and Giancarlo Fisichella were forced to spend a week at Silverstone aiding the mechanics repairing their cars after an on-track collision.
But he could make mistakes, with the Frentzen incident the one the straight-talking Irishman regretted the most. But how did a seemingly strong relationship end so abruptly and ultimately contribute to the downfall of one of F1’s greatest and iconic teams?
A relationship forged on respect soured by politics
It’s important to note this chapter in F1 history with context on Jordan’s act of compassion towards Frentzen. Touted as a driver potentially faster than Schumacher, his two seasons at Williams yielded just one victory, and an environment that failed to bring the best out of the German, and a deal for a swap with Jordan incumbent Ralf Schumacher saw Frentzen swap red overalls for yellow.
Jordan made a song and dance of signing Frentzen, Eddie Jordan himself stating “When he became available, I absolutely jumped on it”. Honda, in just its second year with the team, now had two race winners in the team, with Damon Hill entering his second season after brilliantly winning the 1998 Belgian Grand Prix.
Yet, Frentzen became the de facto team leader, taking two brilliant wins, one in the dry and the wet, outpacing Ferrari in Belgium as well during the same year. As momentum built, Frentzen became a title contender in the closing races. But, in a mistake that he must rue to this day, he failed to turn off the anti-stall button upon leaving the pits, and his car ground to a halt. As Gen Z would say, “that’s triggering for real bro”.
While Jordan and Frentzen would not hit the heights of 1999 the following year, the two comfortably continued their relationship. By now, rival British American Racing (BAR) had access to an exclusive “works” deal, essentially a factory engine partner agreement. Jordan meanwhile had the Mugen Hondas, still powerful, but not quite in the same league, as well as proving to be hopelessly unreliable. The team slipped back three places in the standings to sixth, with only two podiums all year.
2001: Frentzen becomes a Wicker Man sacrifice
For 2001, Jordan switched to the works Honda engine, joining rival BAR. Now with identical engines, the bitter war broke out between the two teams, with Honda benefiting. Both teams were now firmly in the midfield; the top three of Ferrari, McLaren and Williams were firmly out of reach. The prize for good performance was simple: the right to use Honda long term.
But Honda had a new curveball to throw into the equation: a driver. Eventual two-time Indianapolis 500 winner Takuma Sato was being eyed for a grid spot, with Jordan his possible destination. This put both Frentzen and teammate Jarno Trulli under pressure, but logic dictated that young Italian Trulli would be the one to make way for Honda’s golden boy protégé.
But ahead of the German Grand Prix, Jordan announced Frentzen had been released from his contract, still with over a year to go. Ricardo Zonta replaced him initially, followed by Jean Alesi in his swansong season.
The decision seemed utterly bizarre on raw value. Tensions had been building behind the scenes at the team, with disagreements between Frentzen and Eddie Jordan cited as the reason for a rather sudden and unceremonious divorce. But examining the events more closely, firing Frentzen in favour of Zonta makes about as much sense as replacing icing sugar on a Victoria sponge with pickled onions. He substituted a race winner and former title contender for a driver who scored just three points.
Jordan would later admit the more logical explanation: that Honda played a part in his decision. Firing Frentzen acted as a precursor to appease the Japanese manufacturer, so that Sato could slot seamlessly into the team for the 2002 season. Frentzen, in essence, became a sacrifice akin to an unfortunate soul sealed inside a wicker man and burnt. A spectacularly horrific sight, and it has no guaranteed logical outcome of securing what you are hoping for, with blind optimism driving the decision.
Speaking on the Formula for Success podcast in 2025, Jordan admitted firing Frentzen remained an episode where he wished he had “bigger balls”.
“My biggest, where everybody wanted to kill me, was when Heinz-Harald Frentzen was near enough up in the top three of the world championship, and I had to sack him.
“That was torment, because that was the wrong decision for Honda. They shouldn’t have done that, in my opinion,” he said.
“Frentzen for me, if people were to look at drivers who have not got the full recognition that they needed, the talent that they had, the speed that they had, the overall brilliance in a team – yes, a little bit finicky, but God, he was so quick, so quick, and so good.
“I made a big mistake there. I should have had bigger balls and I should not have sacked him.
“But, in hindsight, that’s the way it works.”
The aftermath
With engines and driver secure, Eddie Jordan could now focus on building his team back to the levels achieved in 1999. Instead, with sponsorship money waning and a car that continued the trend of being uncompetitive, the team remained sixth in the standings. There was one small victory, however, as Jordan beat BAR, finishing two places above.
Yet, this accolade did not prove enough to keep Honda power. Honda pulled the plug on its ties with Jordan, with Sato also departing. Instead, it became lumbered with outdated Ford V10’s that lacked any form of grunt and suffered woeful reliability. Giancarlo Fisichella remained with the team for a second season, and won the rain-soaked Brazilian Grand Prix, though in true Jordan style, he had to wait a week for his trophy after Kimi Raikkonen was wrongly declared the winner.
With Sato gone, Ralph Firman (anyone remember him?) had his one and only year in F1. Jordan declined further in 2004, before Eddie Jordan sold up.
Frentzen, the victim of this debacle, ended up at Prost for the rest of 2001, before the team went bust. Courted by Tom Walkinshaw, he went to Arrows for 2002, which also ran out of cash, this time halfway through the season, with a one-off race at Sauber, where he had made his debut in 1993. In a full-circle moment, Frentzen had one final year in F1 at his first team, rounding off his last season with a podium in Indianapolis.
No winners emerged from Frentzen and Jordan’s divorce. Instead, it killed the careers of two of F1’s most cherished underdogs. It is yet another chapter of the dog-eat-dog world that is F1.
Discussion about this post