After an off-season marred by some controversial and ugly events off the track, it seemed like the Australian Grand Prix would be an anti-climax by comparison. That notion was dispelled less than ten seconds into the race, as Ralf Schumacher gave new meaning to the phrase 'launching the new car'. Richard Barnes reviews the accident, the behaviour of the drivers who usually lead to them, and the rest of the events in the season's opening race

After an off-season marred by some controversial and ugly events off the track, it seemed like the 2002 season-opener at Melbourne's Albert Park circuit would be an anti-climax by comparison. That notion was dispelled less than ten seconds into the race, as Ralf Schumacher gave new meaning to the phrase 'launching the new car'. F1 races often unwittingly mimic the most convoluted plot wrinkles of Hollywood screenwriters. With its carnage, conflict and fairytale endings, the script for Sunday's Australian GP was more likely penned by the brothers Grimm.

Ralf Schumacher and Rubens Barrichello must be heartily sick of the 'three continents' leg that opens each season. It's not just the whiplash, mild concussions, bruises and scrapes that they suffer, nor the indignity of explaining to tweezer-lipped team managers how a solid week of team effort just got hoisted out of the gravel by a crane. It's the sinking realisation that, by the time the circus returns to the familiarity of Europe, bookies will already be calling off bets on Michael Schumacher winning another WDC.

Last season, both Ralf and Barrichello suffered incidents in each of the first three races, twice against each other and both of those happening early in the race. If either wants to challenge Michael Schumacher seriously for this year's WDC title, they'd best not continue the trend. In both of his Ferrari Championship-winning seasons, Michael Schumacher has built his eventual triumph around the principle of putting the opposition under pressure right from the start - by taking points from every race while his rivals sort out teething problems. And how well he did it - the maximum 30 points from the first three races in 2000, and 26 from the same three last year. For McLaren's David Coulthard, once again the victim of iffy early-season reliability, the Melbourne scenario has become all too familiar and depressing. At least Coulthard had the consolation of knowing that his chances ended with mechanical failure and not driver error.

It would be easy to blame Barrichello for the first-corner accident, after his weaving away from the startline made a mockery of the 'one move' rule. However, it wasn't the weaving that caused the accident, but rather a discrepancy in braking points. Weaving or chopping played no part in the 2001 accident between Ralf and BAR's Jacques Villeneuve, yet the end result was almost identical - the terrifying and uncontrollable launch of a 600kg car designed to be pushed down onto the track, not lifted off it.

Instead, Sunday's first-corner accident was the natural result of 22 alpha-male personalities vying for leadership of the pack, and ownership of a territory that can barely accommodate two cars, let alone 22. Throw in 11 sets of tyres starting from the dirty side of the grid, weight differences due to differing fuel loads and operating temperatures that have only been achieved in theory, and the odd misjudgment is inevitable. First corner accidents have always been a part of motor racing, and no amount of regulation will eliminate them. Formation 'warm-up' laps didn't provide a solution, nor did automatic launch control, nor would American-style rolling starts. The solution ultimately lies in the hands of the drivers. By the time they reach F1, after years in the cut-and-thrust wheel-banging of the lower formulae, they shouldn't need draconian legislation to enforce sensible behaviour.

During Thursday's briefing, Michael Schumacher warned about 'over-exuberance' from some drivers, and he is correct. It's not mere coincidence that both Schumacher and David Coulthard emerged unscathed from the carnage. They, along with others like Mika Hakkinen, constitute the elite few with the skills, reflexes and experience to race hard, chop, weave, and shut the door on others - without unnecessary contact. There's always the risk of accident, but somehow the percentages always pan out in their favour. That's more than just blind luck. In that context, Barrichello was quite correct in the post-qualifying interview - things do happen for a reason.

While Schumacher has been involved in several first-corner shunts, it's notable that he always gets hit from behind. And, while Patrick Head's assertion that 'the following driver is always to blame' is simplistic, it's nevertheless founded on a universal truth. The following driver has full and unrestricted view of the car in front, the leading driver can only sense what the cars behind are doing. So the following driver is in a far better position to avoid contact.

The Melbourne shunt will renew pleas to outlaw the startline chop, but such drastic action is entirely unnecessary. The only difference between the chop and 'shutting the door' is that the chop happens on a straight and not the entry to a corner. 'Shutting the door' has been practised since before motor racing began and, like the chop, poses little danger if the drivers know what they're doing and keep within reasonable bounds. Which is exactly what Schumacher and Juan Pablo Montoya did while scrapping for the lead.

Montoya continues to impress with his ability to learn quickly. Last season, he pulled off two aggressive moves against Schumacher - overtaking for the lead in Brazil, and defending the lead in Austria. On both occasions, the Colombian committed himself too fully, putting the outcome in Schumacher's hands. If the German had failed to defer on either occasion, contact would have been inevitable.

Sunday's clash was entirely different. Although both raced hard and defended their lines aggressively, the racing was clean, safe and exhilarating. On the podium, Schumacher beamed warmly at Montoya, and also praised the Colombian in the post-race interview. After the cold shoulder of last year, Schumacher has warmed visibly to the idea of Montoya as a main Championship rival. That respect has arisen out of Montoya's transformation from loose cannon to responsible racer.

While Schumacher and Montoya were fighting for the ten points up front, the greater reward went to Jaguar's Eddie Irvine and Toyota's Mika Salo, with debutant Mark Webber claiming arguably the biggest prize of all for perennial strugglers Minardi. It didn't matter that these improbable top-sixers earned their due through survival rather than speed. Nor did it matter that this was a freak result that may not be repeated for the rest of the season. The points are in the bag, and Mark Webber gave his home fans an Australian GP experience that they will cherish for years.

Prior to the event, the FIA's Charlie Whiting made it clear that the red flags would only be used where necessary, and not as a 'get out of jail free' card for drivers and teams. Despite the howls of outrage from several quarters, the race director made the correct decision not to red-flag the race. The track was able to be cleared quickly enough, and there was little debris to cause safety concerns. Formula One boasts ostensibly the best 22 drivers on the planet, they shouldn't need a second chance. The innocent parties deserve empathy, but certainly no more than Mika Hakkinen deserved when his clutch failed on the final lap at Spain last year. And nobody was asking for a restart in that instance. Cruel luck goes with the territory, whether through first corner pileups or failed mechanical components.

It was ironic that the first season-opening GP after ITV commentator Murray Walker's retirement should so perfectly reflect his own philosophy - 'Anything can happen in F1, and usually does'. As the F1 circus heads for Malaysia, Minardi will bask in the glory of defending their fifth-place standing from the six teams below them in the Constructors table. That's certainly a first, but it may not be the only first in Malaysia.

Sepang is Ferrari's dream circuit. The Scuderia have never lost there, nor even come close to losing. Since Malaysia debuted on the F1 calendar in 1999, Ferrari have scooped 46 of the maximum possible 48 points on offer from that event. Whether the race is run at the beginning of the season or the end, whether in the spring or autumn, in the wet or dry, you could bet your house on a Ferrari victory in Malaysia.

Ferrari approach Sepang 2002 with the best possible quandary that any team could hope for - to run the F2001 car that has already proven itself against the competition, or to risk the F2002 that may be even more dominant. Whichever design they choose, any result other than a Ferrari victory seems unthinkable. Then again, a fifth-place finish for Minardi seemed unthinkable before Melbourne...

F1 is as much a mental game as any other sport. If Williams or McLaren can manage to unseat Ferrari on their favourite circuit, they'll go a long way towards stemming the irrepressible momentum that Ferrari have carried into the season. If the Ferraris repeat their customary 1-2 finish of the past, it's going to be a long, hard and frustrating season for the competition.