The day after tomorrow, three decades ago, the most talented racing driver ever born left us. It was May 1st 1994. On a warm holiday afternoon, mocking fate broke the young life of Ayrton Senna da Silva. A former Brazilian boy, considered a hero and called “Magic”, who interpreted driving as if it were an instinctive art. An almost ascetic approach that the phenomenon considered accompanied by a long hand, capable of painting feats forbidden to mere mortals. Formula 1 had recently entered a new era. When he got into the car it was no longer necessary to greet his loved ones with intensity. The Federation had placed safety, especially of the pilots, at the top of the list of priorities. And the manufacturers, in a frantic search for performance to excel, had introduced the technology of composite materials, rigid and light, which offered “free” protection that was not at all sought after. The single-seaters which, when driven at crazy speeds, previously crumpled like breadsticks, quickly became non-deformable and indestructible missiles. With carbon bodies the page was turned and accidents like those of Lauda and Villeneuve never happened again.
Mocking restart
Before that tragic weekend in Imola, where on Saturday the almost debutant Austrian Roland Ratzenberger also incredibly lost his life, adverse fate had lost track of the Circus. To meet the victim before the South American you had to go back 12 years. In Canada, the inexperienced and unfortunate Riccardo Paletti left, even before leaving, also just making his second start in the top formula. After Ayrton, twenty years passed before the specter of death returned to F1, with a killer tractor that placed itself in the flooded path of the young Monegasque Jules Bianchi. In a mocking restart, Magic’s Williams shot straight at Tamburello, the fastest bend in the Championship with a tough wall outside, very close, which prevents diving into the Santerno. A curve marked by spectacular crashes that disintegrated the cars, but which carbon had transformed into a spectacle. Something like this happened that time too. Senna’s single-seater, at over 300 mph, continued straight ahead (the “handcrafted” modified steering column the night before the race almost certainly broke) and the crazy car hit the guards.
The angle was very small and slightly dampened the enormous kinetic energy released. Ayrton’s body was intact. Maybe not even a scratch. In the terrible impact, however, the right front wheel came off and, with one of its arms severed, it hit the pilot’s helmet right at the edge of the visor. The detail turned into a killer dart which, at 2.17pm on that Labor Day, shattered the cerebral life of that risk artist. Behind him, the last one who saw him up close was Michael Schumacher who, with his Benetton, was threatening Ayrton to snatch his third victory in a row at the beginning of ’94. Transported by helicopter to the hospital in Bologna, the doctors decreed that even the generous heart of the Paulista finally died at 6.40 pm. And Ayrton’s soul was taken from above by that invisible hand which he said was guiding him. The seductive story had begun 34 years earlier, on March 21 (the beginning of spring) in Sao Paulo, Brazil where the wealthy Milton da Silva and Neide Johanna Senna had their second child whom they baptized as Ayrton. Back then, no one could have known that the messiah of motorsport had been born. All four of the son’s maternal grandparents were of clear Italian origins.
The baby phenomena
Senna was not yet part of those generations of baby phenomena built on karts and simulators, capable of making their debut in F1 while still under age. After having won a lot in his homeland, only at the age of 19 did he move to Europe, to the Peninsula of his ancestors, to follow his aspiration. At the end of ’80 he moved to the homeland of car racing which was England, together with his former schoolmate Lilian De Vasconcelos, who only became his wife for eight months before they separated. Ayrton had many famous flirtations, but his life was dedicated to cars and racing. Especially at speed. Senna could never have been a precocious record holder.
After a spectacular journey in the minor formulas monopolizing various championships, the flying Latin American made his F1 debut only in 1984 at his home grand prix, four days after celebrating his twenty-fourth birthday. At his age Vettel and Hamilton were already world champions and Alonso and Verstappen were preparing to become one. The world champions of another era were Fittipaldi and Lauda at the dawn of the Seventies, but they had to wait a quarter of a century before they could toast the title. Ayrton, in this special ranking is not even among the top ten, even preceded by Clark who took the first crown on his head in the early sixties. Yet Senna is considered by almost everyone to be the “clearest talent, the fastest driver, the predestined of the predestined”. He became champion at the age of 28, as soon as he had an absolute top single-seater. Until then, only dazzling flames, as soon as the conditions became difficult for the driver to emerge from the single-seater. The first, indelible, demonstration in 1984 with the artisan Toleman-Hart. In the Prince’s living room, in the year of his debut.
Determination and courage
A city track where, especially at the time, immense determination and great courage were needed because the single-seater could still be transformed into a motorboat by ending up in the waters of the port as Ascari did less than thirty years earlier. That audacious masterpiece declared that the noble ups and downs of Monte Carlo were the home garden of Ayrton, resident in the city-state. In his sixth F1 race, with a car considered little more than a gate, the Brazilian lapped almost three seconds slower than his future rival Prost who was driving a space-age McLaren-Porsche. During the race, even though it was the beginning of June, the flood broke out and Monaco became a quagmire. Senna began to sail six seconds faster than the Frenchman who was in the lead and, just as he relished the unpredictable overtaking, the soaked bullfight was interrupted by the race director, the former driver Jacky Ickx nicknamed “the rain wizard”. More than a result it was a sign.
In Monte Carlo Ayrton remained practically undefeated, winning six times, including five consecutively (from 1989 to 1993). There would have been seven if in 1998, after having humiliated everyone, giving Prost a second and a half in a McLaren identical to his and having separated the closest one by almost a minute in the race, he had not stuck his racing car a few laps from the finish line. ‘entrance to the tunnel, just for “distraction”.
Suzuka patatracs
After the first title against his teammate who was already a two-time champion, the following year the Brazilian suffered the shame of revenge: in Suzuka, on the track owned by their Honda engine engineers, Ayrton joined Alain inside the last chicane which is still remembered with their names, and it was the catastrophe followed by a mountain of controversy.
The following year the cold revenge was on the same circuit with Prost however getting on board the Ferrari. After the third world championship in ’91, a not too exciting two-year period with the Honda and Ford engines not quite up to par with the Renault V10 that pushed the Williams with the active suspension designed by the young wizard Adrian Newey. Then the move to Uncle Frank’s team, reigning double world champion, in place of his bitter rival Prost. But cruel fate had crouched beneath the Tambourine.
