If the 2001 Formula One World Championship can be likened to a 17-round boxing title fight, then rounds 1 to 5 were typical of so many title clashes - careful manoeuvering, the odd probing jab, cagey clinching and a referee urging the combatants to stop posing and start fighting.

If the 2001 Formula One World Championship can be likened to a 17-round boxing title fight, then rounds 1 to 5 were typical of so many title clashes - careful manoeuvering, the odd probing jab, cagey clinching and a referee urging the combatants to stop posing and start fighting. In ring fights, one fighter will inevitably land a punch that matters, the recipient lashes out heatedly in retaliation, and the war starts in earnest. Sunday's Austrian Grand Prix, the sixth round of the 2001 Championship, will be remembered for a wild Juan Pablo Montoya haymaker that not only helped to decide the race, but established the battle lines for this season, and possibly several more seasons to come.

It is easy to see why Montoya idolised Senna. His reaction to Schumacher's overtaking attempt had all the trademarks of Senna - complete oblivion to the longer-term race and Championship prospects in favour of the immediate and short-sighted aim of not being overtaken, whatever the consequences. In the same situation, Prost would have allowed Schumacher through, settled into second until his tyres recovered, and then renewed the battle. In true early Senna style, Montoya opted for the gravel trap instead, his mistake effectively ending his race chances. That's no sin, for Montoya is no Prost. Not yet, anyway. Indeed, Prost wasn't even Prost until he'd learnt to temper his natural aggression, and drive with his head rather than his heart.

This may sound like harsh and disapproving criticism of the Colombian, but it isn't. He has only competed in six Grands Prix, and mistakes and youthful aggression are both inevitable and desirable. A driver who doesn't believe that he's the best, and who doesn't make mistakes in trying to prove it, also doesn't belong in a top F1 team. Prost, Senna, Schumacher, Jody Scheckter and a host of other drivers were overly-robust early in their careers. In time, they learned that discretion is usually the better part of valour.

The important thing is that Montoya learns from his mistakes, and he will. Even more important, from the fans' point of view, is that Montoya brings great entertainment value back into F1. Entertainment is about conflict, and conflict is about pride and passion. Montoya has those qualities in abundance. Prost, for all his phlegmatic and ruthless efficiency, was not an entertaining driver to watch. Senna, by contrast, was the sport's ultimate showman. If Montoya continues in this vein, he will be adored by some, hated by others, but he will always provide entertainment. And entertainment is a key ingredient in the sport's success. As is business…

With corporate and national pride on the line, not to mention the expectations of multi-million dollar sponsors and investors, F1 is no longer a pure sporting endeavour, and hasn't been for decades. Ferrari's decision to implement team orders in Austria is neither right nor wrong, it simply is. Team orders are within the rules, and Ferrari are by no means the only team to favour one driver while handicapping the other. As a business organisation, they have every right to use any legal means to promote their goals of winning. That is their prerogative, just as it is any fan's prerogative to despise them for it.

Jean Todt complained recently of the ongoing bad press that Ferrari receives. The moral of the story is simple - if Ferrari don't want to be branded as guilty, they shouldn't act guilty. And even more important, they shouldn't be guilty. It took a lengthy explanation from Max Mosley, of all people, to allay the storm after Heinz-Harald Frentzen's traction control accusations. After Spain, the entire Ferrari hierarchy (Todt, Brawn, Schumacher) insisted that tyres were the root of Schumacher's problem during the race. All three were interviewed after the race, and not once was the word 'suspension' even mentioned by any of them. By Wednesday, Brawn had gone about-face, conceding that suspension concerns were in fact the real reason that Schumacher fell off the pace. That being the case, why didn't Ferrari just say so from the beginning? The obvious implication is that they are or were hiding something - something that got fixed between Sunday and Wednesday. The team orders debacle during Austria added just another chapter to an incredible tale. If Ferrari want good press, they're going about it in the worst possible way.

The real question is not how the ensuing uproar will affect Ferrari, but rather Schumacher. All season, the German has been working on portraying a new 'nice guy' image. Clearly, the aim was to counter the negative press that Schumacher receives, and to help people forgive, if not forget, incidents like Jerez 97 and Adelaide 94. Schumacher has gone out of his way to praise others this season, to behave admirably on the track, and to be both a gracious winner and sporting loser. For five races, the approach paid dividends. Although it's easy to be gracious and sporting when you're leading the Championship in the best car, while your biggest rival suffers an unprecedented run of bad luck and poor results.

The acid test was always going to come when Schumacher's comfortable Championship position came under threat, and Sunday's race provided the answer. The moment Schumacher passed Barrichello, all of the positive public relations that he has garnered this season went out the window. He could have tucked in behind Barrichello, taken his third place sportingly and stated afterwards that team orders are no longer necessary - after all, he has the best car and is the best driver. If he had done so, the metamorphosis from cheating villain to gentleman racer would have been complete. Instead, he toed the corporate line and took the two points. No amount of rationalisation afterwards, from either Jean Todt or Schumacher himself, could disguise the obvious - they were defending the indefensible, and they knew it.

It doesn't matter that other teams also use team orders. Other teams don't pay a fortune for the services of 'the best driver in the world'. From 1996 to 1998, when Schumacher was driving inferior machinery, Ferrari's team orders were tolerated for the ultimate good of a close Championship battle with their faster rivals. 2001 is a very different story. Schumacher has the best car overall, his traditional rival is already out of the Championship reckoning, and the German has led the title race since the first GP of the year. Schumacher won the 2000 World Drivers' Championship in satisfying fashion, not once relying on Rubens Barrichello to give way and gift him Championship points. It leaves a sour taste that Ferrari have opted to go the team orders route as early as round 6 of this year's Championship.

Schumacher could also have pointed out that he is contractually obliged to do as the team demands, cited Malaysia 99 as an example, and stated that he was as unhappy as Barrichello about the incident. But he had effectively shut that loop-hole himself in 1999, when he was caught playing football while ostensibly too injured to drive in support of teammate Eddie Irvine's Championship bid. Schumacher has always looked out for himself, Ferrari employee or not. He obviously approved of the team orders, and that is his prerogative. But the two points taken in Austria had better prove crucial for Schumacher's title hopes this year - he has already paid an astronomical price for them.

Seated between Schumacher's awkward damage-limitation attempts and Barrichello's 'no comment until I know what the team will allow me to say' glumness during the post-race press conference, David Coulthard must have been ecstatic. For years, he has had to endure derision from his Ferrari rivals, and Schumacher in particular. Every time the Scot dared to declare the legitimacy of his WC title ambitions, he was shot down in flames. 'Too inconsistent', 'too many bone-headed mistakes', 'not fast enough in qualifying', 'no match for Hakkinen' - these criticisms may still prove valid as the Championship progresses. But for now, David Coulthard has achieved the unthinkable - he has the world's best driver, in the best car overall, running scared. I'm not sure which Coulthard will treasure most - the Austrian trophy, or the mental image of Jean Todt screaming 'Let him past, let him past' in a high-pitched voice every time Barrichello and Schumacher completed another lap. If I were a betting man, I'd wager on the latter. How ironic that validation of Coulthard's talent and potential should come from his bitter rivals, rather than his own employer.

It is hard to find a single fault with Coulthard's season thus far. The brilliant pass on Barrichello at Australia, beating Schumacher in the wet at Brazil, driving through the field from stone last to fifth at Spain, and now a victory of Prost-like tactical acumen at Austria. Perhaps the only valid gripe is that he hasn't qualified as well as he should have. But what does Saturday's qualifying matter when the race is decided on Sunday, and the driver in question is reeling off podiums and victories with metronomic consistency?

For now, McLaren have claimed the moral high ground, but that could change in a hurry. The team has stated openly that they will use team orders if necessary. DaimlerChrysler, via board member Juergen Hubbert, is adamant that it won't countenance the thought. Inevitably, the ever-controversial Ron Dennis will have to make the call. Either way, his decision is likely to send the F1 fraternity into new throes of despair, derision or delight. However, Ferrari's precedent has handed him a perfect excuse. He can justifiably claim 'This season, Ferrari started it…'

Even if Mika Hakkinen does actively help Coulthard, the Scot could find an even greater ally in Montoya. It's no coincidence that the Colombian was among the first to crucify Ferrari and Schumacher for the team orders. Montoya wants to beat Schumacher badly, rub it in, and then go out and do it again. He wants to be the Senna to Schumacher's Prost. There is every chance that Schumacher and Montoya will clash again this season, not once but probably several times. As a rookie with no Championship hopes yet, Montoya has little to lose from such encounters, and everything to gain. He muscled his way past the reigning champion aggressively in Brazil, and his stock skyrocketed. He'll want to do that again and again, and can be as single-minded as he likes in pursuing that goal. Schumacher will not want to back down, but also cannot lose sight of the wider Championship picture. It may yet bring out the most inspired and resourceful driving we've ever seen from the German.

If the 2000 World Championship was settled according to the Queensberry Rules, 2001 could end up as a barroom brawl. This season just gets better and better with each race. Next stop is Monaco, Schumacher's territory, where the German would normally expect to win. But he'll also be painfully aware that the Monaco 1998 clash with Benetton's Alex Wurz potentially cost him the Championship, and the same track last year marked the start of a disastrous run of bad fortune, turning a seemingly one-sided Championship cakewalk into a real nail-biter. In the past two Grands Prix, Schumacher's driven well enough to merit the ten points on both occasions. Yet he finds himself accused of outrageous luck in one race, and unethical tactics in the second. It's merely another flashpoint in a career littered with controversies. Schumacher's response at Monaco should prove interesting.