The Italian Grand Prix last Sunday produced emotional moments for the Ferrari fans, with Rubens Barrichello and Michael Schumacher celebrating a dominant victory right above the passionate tifosi who had invaded the Monza circuit. Atlas F1's Michele Lostia was one of the fans who got sprayed by the drivers' champagne. This is his view of the events

Monza, after Indianapolis and Brooklands, is the third ever purpose-built race track in the world, dating back to 1922, 80 years ago. For this milestone, the Grand Prix organizers have decided that many of the infrastructures of the circuit needed to be modernized, including the pits building, the services building, a new paddock for the supporting races and, best of all, a revolutionary new podium.

What sets Monza's new podium apart from every other track's, is that it is erected on a circular platform built on a pillar that rises from the pit wall, some five metres or so above track level. The platform is accessible through a bridge that links it to the pits building, crossing the width of the pit lane around the area of the first two garages. If the purpose of this unusual podium was to shorten the distance between the fans and their heroes, it couldn't have been built at a better venue. Monza, the home of Ferrari, never fails to attract hordes of tifosi who flock on the circuit at the end of the Grand Prix to get a glimpse of the winners - hopefully wearing Ferrari red overalls - spraying champagne all around them.

Being a tifoso myself, I have invaded the track every time I attended a Grand Prix held in Italy, but one thing was always missing for me: managing to be under the podium on time to see the drivers' celebrations in person. This year, I set myself up to do just that.

The first and most important thing was choosing the right spot to watch the Grand Prix from, keeping in mind that I only had a general admission ticket - albeit for the full three days, rather than just the Sunday as I've had in previous years. That being the case, I took advantage of Friday's low attendance to have a nice walk around, looking for the best spot. No more standing at the Ascari chicane or Lesmo corners for me: I finally decided that this year I would be watching from the end of the Parabolica 180 degree corner, right at the beginning of the main straight. There's a big screen conveniently placed in front that chosen spot, and you can even see the cars' details when they are slowing down to enter the pit lane.

The second thing to do was making sure I could occupy that place on time on Sunday morning, before someone snatched it from me. 7:30 AM did the trick - luckily the camping area I was staying in is inside the circuit premises, so I didn't have to get up too early for that.

The warm-up got under way. Despite the fact that both Championships were sealed by Ferrari many weeks ago, the tifosi still cheered every time the drivers of the Prancing Horse left their garages and joined the track. This bodes well for a good track invasion later, I thought. All that was needed was a scarlet victory. Years ago this would have been just a dream, as Ferrari victories were so hard to come by, but things changed completely lately, and hopes were up.

The start of the race saw both Williams drivers take the lead in front of the Ferraris, and while this wasn't what the fans were wishing for, it set up for the beginning of the festivities a couple of laps later, when an engine failure sidelined German Ralf Schumacher, immediately followed by teammate Juan Pablo Montoya losing the lead to Rubens Barrichello, and then Michael Schumacher taking second place from the Colombian.

We cheered, whistled and clapped, and the race went on. It was a dominating performance, and all we were left guessing was who would have won. Rubens' final exit from the pits in front of Michael was greeted with enthusiasm by the crowds: the German star had already won three times here at Monza, now it was Rubinho's turn!

Before and during the race, the announcer reminded us spectators that race marshals were instructed to open the track's gates when all cars entered parc ferme at the end of the race, and therefore asked us not to invade the track until then. The crowd is separated from the track by two lines of wire, with police forces occupying the space in between.

The first members of the public appeared in these reserved areas a couple of laps from the end of the race, quickly followed by more people. As soon as the red cars took the chequered flag, the tifosi poured inside those reserved areas, including me. There was a small gate leading to the inside of the circuit, and the mass of people waiting for it to be opened grew by the second.

On the big screen, we could see that the first sections of the track where the drivers already paraded on had already been opened to the public, and fans were flocking in, quickly starting to occupy the area in front of the pit lane and, more importantly, under the new podium. So, we would be the last ones in, I thought, since we were standing right before the pit lane entry. I better hurry up if I want to see the drivers being given their trophies!

Finally, the Ferraris paraded in front of us, and the gate was opened. Mind you, the rest of the drivers weren't past us yet, so the announcer's earlier recommendations weren't listened to by the race marshals themselves. It was scary: all the people behind me and around me started to push to reach that small gate that wouldn't accommodate more than two people at a time. Even if I was trying not to, I was helplessly pushing forward too, moved by the wave around me.

Eventually I managed to squeeze through, and I got past the gate right when the last drivers were still passing by. Good that a line of policemen was there, preventing anyone from leaving the grass strip along the track until all cars went through.

I was now free to run. It was probably only a little over one hundred metres to the place I wanted to be at, but I figured that if I didn't run as fast as I could it would be too late to reach a spot under the podium's platform. So I ran, and yes, there was still just about enough room to find a way there, and the drivers couldn't yet be seen, so I was on time, under the podium, for the first time in my life. Great.

When Rubens Barrichello appeared on that bridge that leads onto the raised platform, the crowd literally erupted cheering, shouting Rubinho's and Schumi's names. Then the drivers were all there, including third placed man Eddie Irvine, an ex-Ferrari driver himself who spends a lot of time in Italy. Shame that Italian Jarno Trulli, who finished in fourth place, couldn't be there too!

The Ferrari drivers reached the front of the platform, and Schumacher seemed to explain to Barrichello what winning at Monza was all about, pointing his hand towards the end of the visible track, showing the Brazilian the enormous amount of people that flooded the circuit. Later, they commented in the press conference how emotional it was up there to see all the tifosi coming towards them, but I could tell right there and then, while standing under the podium, that that's exactly what they were saying just then, although I couldn't hear any of their words.

When the drivers stood on the podium itself, I couldn't even see them, that's how close I was. The noise was deafening. At one point I figured that the national anthems were being played, as the Italian fans in front of me started chanting "Fratelli d'Italia". I sang as loud as I could, without a clue whether I was keeping up with the music, but with the certainty that my voice would falter a few times later on in the day.

When the anthems ended, I could see the drivers' trophies being raised high up in the air. The tifosi in front of me, who couldn't even see that, started pushing backwards then, trying to have a look at the action above. It was another wave, this time pushing backwards, where all you can do is try not to fall down. Through all this, everybody was keeping their hands up in the air, a fact that suggested me that there was no point in trying to count how many times my head met someone else's elbow.

It was finally time for the winners' champagne. The drivers sprayed it on and around the podium like if they never did it before, while in fact the three of them combined have done it some 170 times or so. And yes, I managed to taste it! That was something I dreamt of for a long time, and it finally happened. Its taste wasn't as nice as when you drink it chilled with a proper glass, of course, but in my head it tasted of victory at Monza, the temple of motor racing in Europe.

When the drivers left to attend the press conference, the crowd started to move again, this time getting spread in different directions: some tried to get in front of the TV cameras for their 15 seconds of fame, some climbed the pit wall to see the happenings in the pit lane, some wanted to take a picture of themselves sitting on the pole position spot, and some just started leaving the place. As for me, I was one of the latter. I had done all those other things before, which can be fun, but this year I just had put a cherry on top of it all. And it tasted very sweet indeed.

Coulthard is right, of course: there should be one rule for all, and hopefully it will take after Monza as an example. The fans deserve to take part in the celebrations, and the drivers should be able to get that loving feeling directly from the spectators. With proper security measures in place, there is no reason why the podium celebrations at the Italian Grand Prix last weekend will not become the norm in Formula One.