Like in almost all the Championship-deciding races Michael Schumacher has taken part in during his career, last Sunday's Japanese Grand Prix was a tense and dramatic event for the German. This time, however, the Ferrari star was facing a situation no other driver had faced in the history of the sport. Atlas F1's Richard Barnes looks at how Schumacher has coped with pressure in the most decisive moments

Right from the moment the chequered flag fell at Indianapolis two weeks ago, it was almost inevitable that the Japanese Grand Prix would see Michael Schumacher crowned for his sixth World Drivers Championship title, an unprecedented feat in modern Formula One. While the eventual Championship outcome of Sunday's race provided no surprises, the manner in which Schumacher achieved the new record raised eyebrows.

Schumacher's previous three Championship triumphs for Ferrari had all been sealed with race victories. In 2000, there was the tense but controlled tactical win at Suzuka, a 1-2 with Ferrari teammate Rubens Barrichello to extinguish David Coulthard's challenge in 2001, and the French GP victory less than a year later to seal the most dominant Championship triumph in recent memory. If we'd grown accustomed to seeing the German win Championships with a bang, Sunday's eighth place represented barely a whimper.

While the champion elect exuded his usual cautious optimism going into the Suzuka weekend, there was every reason to suspect that this would be a troublesome race for him. Three times in his twelve-year career, the German had entered the last race of the season with everything to gain - or lose. On all three occasions, Schumacher suffered a race that he'd sooner forget.

It started with the controversial crash with Damon Hill in 1994, even though Schumacher ended up winning that Championship. The collision may have been controversial and the 'trial by media' inconclusive, but one fact was beyond doubt - Michael Schumacher, the master of car control, had run off the road while comfortably leading the most important race of his life. Three years later, the infamous shunt with Jacques Villeneuve at Jerez marked the low point of his career.

Given the opportunity to redeem himself a year later at Suzuka, Schumacher once again ignited controversy. Was his disastrous start-line stall a result of driver error or a mechanical glitch? Ultimately, it didn't matter either way. After an ignominious retirement from a rear tyre blowout, the German was relegated to watching from the sidelines as Mika Hakkinen wrapped up the race win and the Championship. Going into Suzuka 2003, the German couldn't have relished the prospect of yet another unpleasant season-ending experience. And, but for the charmed life that often seems to be his birthright, it could all so easily have gone sour on Schumacher again.

Ultimately, losing his Ferrari's nose cone in the sixth lap shunt with Takuma Sato's BAR wouldn't matter. Nor would the three-way white-knuckle braking incident with Toyota's Cristiano da Matta and brother Ralf's Williams later in the race. For once, Rubens Barrichello's luck held - and Schumacher's along with it, as the Brazilian's victory was enough to deny Schumacher's only remaining Championship rival, McLaren's Kimi Raikkonen. But Michael Schumacher wasn't to know that until the chequered flag fell, and his post-race admission of feeling 'exhausted and empty' summed up just how much this race, and indeed the season, had taken out of him. It wasn't the disaster of '97 or '98, but it wasn't the decisive finish that many had expected either.

Throughout his career, Schumacher has assured racing fans of one constant. No matter how dominant or uncompetitive the car, you could count on Schumacher outperforming his teammate comprehensively. He would always extract the best from the car and his race position. The knock-on benefit was the relentless pressure placed on his opponents. A single slip on their part was often enough, and it would take three or four superb race efforts to make up the lost ground. Schumacher could afford to settle for a second or third position, secure in the belief that the opposition would inevitably fold its hand and surrender to his superior consistency.

This season, Kimi Raikkonen never gave Schumacher the break that he had come to expect. No matter how superior the Ferrari and Schumacher appeared at times, Raikkonen clung on doggedly for race after race, matching Schumacher at his own pressure game. It was as well that Ferrari managed to give Schumacher a car with perfect reliability for the second season in a row. Raikkonen's engine failure while leading the European Grand Prix at Nurburgring was the Finn's only mechanical DNF, and that single slip potentially decided the Championship.

Schumacher's performance during the second half of the season was almost schizophrenic in its extremes. Despite the brilliantly measured victories at Monza and Indianapolis, he was often outperformed by Rubens Barrichello, most notably in Britain, Hungary and Japan. For five consecutive Grands Prix, he failed to lead a single lap. In the last six races of the year, he was outqualified by Barrichello five times. Even for a driver intent on a conservative strategy to ensure reliability, Schumacher's slump defied logic and the precedent of history.

The knee-jerk conclusion, that the German has lost a step and the competitive edge, seems premature. Monza and Indianapolis illustrated that his appetite for racing, and especially for winning, is undiminished. Instead, his relative loss of form must be ascribed to two factors.

The first factor is that he's suddenly feeling the pressure that he used to impose upon his rivals. It's not yet a case of the hunter becoming the hunted. This season, Schumacher showed once again that he is still a master at gritting his teeth and compiling valuable points, even when race victory is beyond his reach. It's just that now, in Raikkonen, he faces an opponent who is also adept at the pressure game. For the first time in his career, Schumacher looked less confident and competitive than his teammate during the second half of this season.

The second factor was the enormity of the occasion. After three successive and increasingly dominant years, the world has grown so accustomed to Schumacher winning that any other conclusion seems unthinkable. At times, the man's dominance hides the reality that he is separated from his rivals by a mere fraction. It's a tenuous advantage that can easily be compromised by pressure alone.

Schumacher's Suzuka performance must not only be viewed in the context of the race or the season, but in the wider context of history. He arrived at Suzuka in a position that no racing driver has ever experienced before - the chance to eclipse Fangio's record and stand alone as the modern sport's only six-time champion. As such, none of the ex-champion commentators and pitlane luminaries could offer a 'been there done that' assessment of Schumacher's situation. Only one man knows what Michael Schumacher faced at Suzuka - and that is Schumacher himself.

He suffered rotten luck during the qualifying run, with the rain demoting him to an undeservedly low fourteenth spot on the grid. He survived at least two heart-stopping moments during the race and two of the race's four retirements - Williams' Juan Pablo Montoya and Renault's Fernando Alonso - played more into Kimi Raikkonen's favour than Schumacher's.

On top of these setbacks, he had to overcome his personal history of failure and controversy at Championship-deciding final races of the season. Perhaps his low-key eighth place finish wasn't the type of performance that he or the racing world would have expected. But this was uncharted territory, and unprecedented pressure. The fact that he succeeded was, ultimately and fittingly, the detail that history will remember.