1987 Spanish Grand Prix

Race

The win moved Mansell ahead of Ayrton Senna , who finished fifth in his Lotus -Honda, into second place in the Drivers' Championship, albeit 18 points behind Piquet with three races remaining.

Summary

Nelson Piquet secured his 24th and final F1 pole position in his Williams- Honda with Nigel Mansell completing an all-Williams front row. The race was comfortably won by Mansell who passed Piquet at the end of the first lap and was never headed. The battle for third (then second) was led for much of the time by Ayrton Senna, who like the previous year tried to complete the race without changing tyres. Both Senna and Lotus were of the opinion that the 99T 's computerised active suspension system ...

Senna had a queue of both Ferraris , Prost's McLaren and Thierry Boutsen 's Benetton behind him, which was joined by Piquet after a long pit-stop. For lap after lap, Senna held off all-comers, similar to Gilles Villeneuve 's performance in his Ferrari at Jarama for the 1981 Spanish Grand Prix . The Lotus-Honda was very fast in a straight line with a low downforce setup, but was slow through Jerez's many twists and turns as a result. Senna's pursuers could not pass him on the long pit straight, a...

However, Piquet's similarly powered Williams was able to get by (not before having a spin) followed eventually by Boutsen and Prost as the Brazilian's tyres finally went off. Senna faded to finish fifth, but the battle for second continued between Boutsen and Piquet - Boutsen went out avoiding Piquet who was rejoining the track after having gone off - and then between Piquet and Prost, with Prost getting the better of the Williams driver who also lost third place to McLaren's Stefan Johansson wh...

Martin Brundle , who finished 11th in his Zakspeed , described his drive as "the time I got out the car thinking no human could have done [any] better". [ 1 ]

Quick Facts

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Race 13 of 16 in the 1987 Formula One World Championship

1987 Spanish Grand Prix nan

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Race details

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Date

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Location

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Course

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Course length

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Distance

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Weather

1987 Spanish Grand Prix Pole position

Table 1

Pos	No	Driver	Constructor	Q1	Q2
1	6	Nelson Piquet	Williams-Honda	1:23.621	1:22.461
2	5	Nigel Mansell	Williams-Honda	1:23.081	no time
3	28	Gerhard Berger	Ferrari	1:23.164	1:25.250
4	27	Michele Alboreto	Ferrari	1:24.192	1:24.832
5	12	Ayrton Senna	Lotus-Honda	1:25.162	1:24.320
6	19	Teo Fabi	Benetton-Ford	1:25.263	1:24.523
7	1	Alain Prost	McLaren-TAG	1:24.596	1:24.905
8	20	Thierry Boutsen	Benetton-Ford	1:26.372	1:25.295
9	7	Riccardo Patrese	Brabham-BMW	1:26.639	1:25.335
10	8	Andrea de Cesaris	Brabham-BMW	1:31.981	1:25.811

Table 2

Pos	No	Driver	Constructor	Laps	Time/Retired
1	5	Nigel Mansell	Williams-Honda	72	1:49:12.692
2	1	Alain Prost	McLaren-TAG	72	+ 22.225
3	2	Stefan Johansson	McLaren-TAG	72	+ 30.818
4	6	Nelson Piquet	Williams-Honda	72	+ 31.450
5	12	Ayrton Senna	Lotus-Honda	72	+ 1:13.507
6 (1)	30	Philippe Alliot	Lola-Ford	71	+ 1 lap
7 (2)	4	Philippe Streiff	Tyrrell-Ford	71	+ 1 lap
8	18	Eddie Cheever	Arrows-Megatron	70	Out of fuel
9	11	Satoru Nakajima	Lotus-Honda	70	+ 2 laps
10	17	Derek Warwick	Arrows-Megatron	70	+ 2 laps

Table 3

Pos	Driver	Points	Unnamed: 3
1	Nelson Piquet	70	nan
2	Nigel Mansell	52	nan
3	Ayrton Senna	51	nan
4	Alain Prost	46	nan
5	Stefan Johansson	26	nan
Source: [6]	Source: [6]	Source: [6]	Source: [6]

F1ABY Commentary

Did the scent of Jerez dust ever truly mask the simmering tension between ambition and loyalty? Mansell, a man sculpted by relentless pursuit, wrestled the Williams-Honda to a victory that felt less like a triumph and more like a carefully calculated assertion. Prost, a ghost in the McLaren shadows, chased relentlessly, a testament to the enduring question of whether brilliance can truly coexist with deference. The Constructors’ Championship, secured with such brutal efficiency, spoke volumes about the strategic calculations underpinning this brutal ballet. It was a victory built not just on speed, but on the unwavering, almost unsettling, confidence of a man possessed.

The heart of Nigel Mansell pulsed with a controlled fury, a storm brewing beneath the stoic facade – that’s the truth of a champion. This wasn’t simply a victory at Jerez; it was the brutal, undeniable assertion of a man possessed, a force sculpted by years of relentless self-demand. Watching him navigate the corner of the track, you saw a man fighting not just the car, but the demons that haunted his brilliant mind.

F1ABY Trivia

The air hung thick with the scent of burning rubber and ambition—a palpable thing at Jerez. Nigel Mansell, a man sculpted by relentless determination, wrestled his Williams-Honda, a machine breathing 628 horsepower, into the lead, the engine’s whine a predatory song. Prost, ever the strategist, trailed behind, his McLaren-TAG—a 608-horse beast—calculating every fraction of a second, acutely aware that the Benetton-Ford’s 580-horsepower offering was relentlessly closing. This wasn’t merely a race; it was a duel of wills, a testament to the agonizingly precise balance between man and machine.

The air hung thick with the scent of burning rubber and a simmering tension – a familiar cocktail at Jerez. Nigel Mansell, a force of nature distilled into a Williams-Honda, simply *was* the race, wasn’t he? Twenty-two seconds separated him from Prost, a gulf that felt less like a strategic advantage and more like a chasm carved by sheer aggression, a testament to the British driver's relentless pursuit.

F1ABY Tales

The rain hadn’t relented, a greasy curtain clinging to the Jerez asphalt. Mansell wrestled the Williams – Honda, a predator fighting for purchase, its tires screaming a silent protest. Twenty-two seconds. Prost, a glacial presence in the McLaren – TAG, watched him go by, a calculation etched onto his face – the weight of a championship hanging heavier than the Spanish drizzle. Johansson, a stoic island in the McLaren’s wake, didn’t even glance back, a testament to the brutal, solitary nature of this pursuit. The scent of burning rubber and damp earth – a potent cocktail of ambition and desperation. This wasn't simply a victory; it was a declaration.

The rain, a bruised purple slick on the tarmac, seemed to mirror the knot in Mansell’s stomach. Twenty-two seconds. He’d felt the shift in Johansson’s pace, the subtle tightening of the throttle, and knew, with a grim certainty, that the Swede was fighting for every scrap of performance. The Williams-Honda, a magnificent beast, responded to his touch, but victory, he realized, wasn’t merely about speed. It was about the relentless, almost brutal, self-belief that had carried him this far, a conviction forged in the fires of disappointment. The championship, he thought, wasn't won on Sundays alone. It was a slow, deliberate accumulation of moments like this, a testament to the refusal to yield.