What little history our sport has is concerned mainly with the records – who won and in what car. There is little that gives a feeling for the men – especially those men who did not, for whatever reason, attain international stardom. This is a pity. There have been remarkable men. It has been my good fortune that my life has been touched by several of them. One of the finest racing gentlemen I have known was the late Lorenzo Bandini.
In the days when European Formula Junior consisted of an international band of gypsies wandering from circuit to circuit from April through October, I became friends with Lorenzo. My equip consisted of myself (driver, mechanic, and engineer) and my wife, Jane (manager, secretary, and arranger of starting money, etc.). This scarcity of personnel, while unthinkable today, was not a major disadvantage. At the time both cars and engines were simple, no one had more than one mechanic, and we were young and ambitious. We kept going and were almost always competitive.
The rub came on the occasional Saturday night when I had managed to derange the machine and was faced with late hours on the night before the race. Even in our youth we require rest before racing.
One Saturday night at Monza, I had the Cooper in bits in the garage as Lorenzo was leaving the track. He stopped, did a double take, and asked how long it was going to take to finish the car. I allowed that it would be way past midnight. He thought about that for a moment and said, “That is not good. You must get enough rest. Sivoggi will help you finish the car.” Ludvigo Sivoggi was not only Lorenzo’s personal mechanic – he had been Fangio’s personal mechanic and was, rightly, regarded as a genius. This act of generosity was made all the more remarkable by the fact that I had managed to qualify ahead of Lorenzo and finished ahead of him in the preliminary heat race. And so it came to pass, Sivoggi worked with me. I learned a lot from him and heard some wonderful Fangio stories, got a good night’s sleep, and duly finished ahead of Lorenzo – that time. I should point out that winning was just as important then as it is now.
For reasons that I have forgotten, one year I drove back from Syracusa and Jane took the ferry with most of the rest of the circus. During lunch with Lorenzo, she pointed out that we had been friends for some months and that it was time for Lorenzo to stop addressing her as Señora Smith. “My name is Jane, not Señora Smith,” she said. “No,” replied Lorenzo, “This is Italy. You are a beautiful woman. I am a single man. Your name is Señora Smith.” And so it remained until his untimely departure from the party. As I said, a gentleman.
