How Tazio Nuvolari’s return to Ferrari, scene of some of his greatest triumphs, re-energised
the legendary Flying Mantuan
In 1947 Enzo Ferrari (then 49 years old) had already started out on his adventure as a constructor, taking small but sure steps, overseen by that little horse proudly climbing up to the sky. Meanwhile, Tazio Nuvolari (55 years old) was refusing to take the path of retirement and obstinately rejecting a fatal, unacceptable word: decline. Certainly his health was losing its robustness, as he explained to a friend: ‘I finish races tired because of illness due to the combustion gases, and that demands periods of rest whose duration can’t be predicted.’ And yet he carried on. Italy at the time was surviving on ruins, hard work and genius.
One of the clearest signs of revival was the throbbing of engines, which spread out along the avenues and roads of many cities. Improvised circuits, laid out over around 2,000 metres and
with a total distance that rarely reached 60km; they were known, in keenly imaginative fashion, as corse tipo aperitivo (“aperitifstyle races”). They were short, fast and quickly over and done
with. They attracted large, enthusiastic crowds: a great show was guaranteed, and they helped people distance themselves ever more distinctly from the nightmare of the war.
with a total distance that rarely reached 60km; they were known, in keenly imaginative fashion, as corse tipo aperitivo (“aperitifstyle races”). They were short, fast and quickly over and done
with. They attracted large, enthusiastic crowds: a great show was guaranteed, and they helped people distance themselves ever more distinctly from the nightmare of the war.
Sunday 6 July 1947, in Forlì, saw the first running of the Coppa Luigi Arcangeli, named after the ace of both handlebars and steering wheel who died while testing at Monza 13 years earlier. And it was right there, in the middle of Romagna (always a land of engines) that Nuvolari first slipped into the car that Ferrari had prepared for him: a 12-cylinder 1500, named the 125 SC. It had motorcycle-style mudguards sticking out from the body, two seats, a single pane of glass as the windscreen and a prominent number 72 painted on the side, between the nose and the bonnet. Emerging out of the competitors in the programme’s four races (750, 1100, 1500 and Corsa), the dual name of Nuvolari- Ferrari grabbed all the attention. The event had all the characteristics of a major news story. However, the journalism of the day limited it to a brief news piece: “A great attraction was the presence of Nuvolari in his first race at the wheel of a Ferrari, which excelled itself in not succumbing to the vigorous driving of the ‘maestro’, who was racing against himself.” It was 58.8km that took a little less than 42 minutes, at an average speed of 86km/h. Once over the finishing line, the car was surrounded, swamped by fans.
As it advanced at walking pace a visibly tired Nuvolari raised his goggles to his forehead and lowered a small mask, a rather pitiful remedy for the noxious fumes. A mechanic jumped into the empty co-driver’s seat, as if he wanted to help Nuvolari drive the car over the final few metres. Seeing him like this, hobbling and contorted, also moved Enzo, who was waiting motionless in the pit with a bottle of mineral water ready to give Nuvolari a drink. He had done it dozens of times in the years of non-stop triumph with the Alfa Romeo team he managed. However, for Nuvolari breath was a more pressing need than drink. Il Commendatore, not yet engineer honoris causa, remembered the moment in his first book, Le mie gioie terribili: “When, in 1947, a car bearing my name began our competitive activity, he came to say to me: ‘Ferrari (he never called me by first name), I’m ready.’” Ready for what? To be taken on with a signed and countersigned contract? To travel here and there in Italy or even in Europe according to a full diary? No, that was not possible. In addition to his poor health, Nuvolari had had to bear the sorrow of the death of a second son. “I’ve been pretty unlucky,” he wrote to his friend Karl Durr, “but in any event I’m trying to be strong and to bear with resignation the terrible losses I’ve suffered.” In these circumstances, his powers of recovery were sorely tested.
The Sunday after Forlì, 13 July, he got into the cockpit of a Ferrari for the second time. The great races were only a memory, the triumphs of Monza, the Nürburgring and Barcelona distant
traces. What was available to him was the classic aperitif race: 30 laps and 90km on the streets of Parma.
The Sunday after Forlì, 13 July, he got into the cockpit of a Ferrari for the second time. The great races were only a memory, the triumphs of Monza, the Nürburgring and Barcelona distant
traces. What was available to him was the classic aperitif race: 30 laps and 90km on the streets of Parma.
Nuvolari’s participation excited the public and added a certain nobility to the race. Many people had a clear memory of the name and of the man; of when he had lit up a motorcycle race riding a Norton 500; there was a great struggle with Achille Varzi, and victory was only lost due to a broken chain and two broken valves. That was in 1924, the year when, at the Polesine Circuit, Nuvolari met a tall, solidly built man, enveloped in large overalls, who spoke little but always to the point. He was Enzo Ferrari, a driver for Alfa Romeo. Back to Parma, 13 July 1947. Everything is ready. The meagre group of 1500 has been joined by a much bigger one of 1100s. Nuvolari is first on the left; on the right is his team-mate Franco Cortese. Ready… and off! Everyone springs into action but Ferrari number 80, Tazio’s Ferrari, stays still. Silent. The engine had died. He sets off in 15th place. In the lead, of course, is the second Ferrari, Cortese’s, followed by Guido Barbieri’s Maserati, and then the rest. On the fourth lap, the clocks stop at one minute and fifty seconds (average speed 98.182km/h), a time that remains unbeaten. The chase continues.
The most astonishing of all his exploits is the inch-perfect manoeuvre when he overtakes Giovanni Quintavalla, who hadn’t even realised Nuvolari was on his tail. People remembered how the Ferrari managed to overtake in areas seemingly lacking the required physical space. On the 18th of the 30 laps, Nuvolari took the lead: he had overtaken 14 cars. Journalist Franco degli Uberti wrote
in Auto Italiana that “all the votes of the thousands upon thousands of spectators present were for him.” At the end of the race, the crowd broke through the barriers, as they had done a week before. It was like an avalanche was burying the Ferrari. The driver, now that the nervous tension had gone, was suffering, as he had done at Forlì. However, coming to his rescue this time was Miss Parma, elected the evening before at the Festa del Soriso (Festival of the Smile), with Nuvolari himself on the jury.
in Auto Italiana that “all the votes of the thousands upon thousands of spectators present were for him.” At the end of the race, the crowd broke through the barriers, as they had done a week before. It was like an avalanche was burying the Ferrari. The driver, now that the nervous tension had gone, was suffering, as he had done at Forlì. However, coming to his rescue this time was Miss Parma, elected the evening before at the Festa del Soriso (Festival of the Smile), with Nuvolari himself on the jury.
She duly joined him in the Ferrari for a lap of honour, along with an enormous bouquet of flowers. Next up, a race at Livorno’s Montenero Circuit, held at the end of August. “This track motivates me,” Nuvolari wrote to Enzo. “Montenero has always been my favourite race, given that it’sa drive you might call a ‘champion’s drive’, given the difficulties that put both car and driver to the test.” Enzo replied: “Dear Nuvolari, I’m back from the mountains, where I went to spend the August holiday with my son, and this morning I found your letter of the 14th of this month in which you tell me of your desire to race at the Livorno circuit in one of my cars. There is every chance that the car will be ready for this date. I will keep you informed about the test day. Until soon, very best wishes.” The car was involved in a road accident when being driven by Luigi Bazzi, a great technician who spent his whole working life at Maranello. Enzo decided to give Cortese’s car to Nuvolari. So there was Tazio, lined up on the Ardenza, Livorno’s seafront avenue, fortified by his five victories on this track. However, after just four laps the engine gave up; probably due to a fault in the valves that Ferrari imported from Switzerland.
The persistence with which Nuvolari was invited to race was impressive, above all, from Bari. Renzo Castagneto, race director, bombarded him with telegrams. On 5 July 1947: “Come. There’ll
certainly be nothing to disappoint you and you will be more than satisfied.” On 10 July: “I beg you to come in any event and you will be happy with everything.” On 11 July: “Telegraphed Ferrari to put at your disposal a 125 with fee you requested.” And again on 11 July, at 11.30pm: “We accept any requests you make. We are most definitely expecting you.” He was forced to disappoint and turn them down; the symptoms of poisoning were not clearing up. A seemingly miraculous cure was suggested by Giuseppe Vianini of Milan, a mechanic in the Alfa Romeo testing lab: mega- doses of vitamin B. Simple, harmless vitamins that ultimately made no difference to his medical condition.
certainly be nothing to disappoint you and you will be more than satisfied.” On 10 July: “I beg you to come in any event and you will be happy with everything.” On 11 July: “Telegraphed Ferrari to put at your disposal a 125 with fee you requested.” And again on 11 July, at 11.30pm: “We accept any requests you make. We are most definitely expecting you.” He was forced to disappoint and turn them down; the symptoms of poisoning were not clearing up. A seemingly miraculous cure was suggested by Giuseppe Vianini of Milan, a mechanic in the Alfa Romeo testing lab: mega- doses of vitamin B. Simple, harmless vitamins that ultimately made no difference to his medical condition.
To his brother-in-law, the Turin lawyer Guido Falamischia, he wrote of being busy with a detoxification cure at Gardone… “and I hope to rediscover my energy so as to use at least part of it
in sport. If I can just go on.” By the end of 1947, he had competed in six races, three of them with Ferrari: Forlì (first in the 1500 category), Parma (outright first), Montenero (retired).
The hope offered by vitamin B mega-doses, the air of Gardone, high morale, great faith in himself; these are the reasons that led Nuvolari to accept Enzo Ferrari’s 11th-hour offer of competing in the 1948 1,000 Miglia. The car was a 2000 named the 166 SC. It was an act of madness rather than a mere gamble. There were only three days to go to the race, but Nuvolari had not sat at the wheel of a fast car for seven and a half months, he was completely forbidden to race by his doctors, and only a brief test of the car in the Garda countryside was possible.
Il Commendatore was too experienced to harbour any illusions. He had simply counted on a publicity coup: he was actually relying on an old pre-war champion, Clemente Biondetti, who had already won two 1,000 Miglia races. Nuvolari started in the dead of night, without hope of victory or even of finishing the race. At his side was the mechanic Sergio Scapinelli. Then the unbelievable happened.
in sport. If I can just go on.” By the end of 1947, he had competed in six races, three of them with Ferrari: Forlì (first in the 1500 category), Parma (outright first), Montenero (retired).
The hope offered by vitamin B mega-doses, the air of Gardone, high morale, great faith in himself; these are the reasons that led Nuvolari to accept Enzo Ferrari’s 11th-hour offer of competing in the 1948 1,000 Miglia. The car was a 2000 named the 166 SC. It was an act of madness rather than a mere gamble. There were only three days to go to the race, but Nuvolari had not sat at the wheel of a fast car for seven and a half months, he was completely forbidden to race by his doctors, and only a brief test of the car in the Garda countryside was possible.
Il Commendatore was too experienced to harbour any illusions. He had simply counted on a publicity coup: he was actually relying on an old pre-war champion, Clemente Biondetti, who had already won two 1,000 Miglia races. Nuvolari started in the dead of night, without hope of victory or even of finishing the race. At his side was the mechanic Sergio Scapinelli. Then the unbelievable happened.
The emotional laws of sport are unmerciful and sometimes unjust
At Rome, Ferrari number 1049 passed with a lead of 12 minutes, but minus its bonnet. At Livorno the lead was 20 minutes, but one of the four mudguards had gone and the co-driver’s seat was hanging loose. The car seemed to be falling apart at that point. At Florence the lead had increased to half an hour. At refuelling at Villa Ospizio in Reggio Emilia, a broken leaf spring pin meant the car couldn’t go on. “Dear Tazio,” wrote Enzo, remembering the emotional episode, “our last shared passion was that memorable 1,000 Miglia of 1948 when, overwhelming everybody with a fantastic drive from Brescia to Reggio, you arrived at Villa Ospizio, where I was waiting for you at refuelling. The broken leaf spring pin deprived you of a great victory, one that above all others you had dreamed of and deserved. On the bed of the hospitable parsonage I said to you ‘Courage, Tazio, we’ll do it next year.’ And I also remember that you replied: ‘Ferrari, at our age, there aren’t many days like this, remember it and try to enjoy it to the limit.’” In conclusion, the soon-to-be “Drake” noted that ‘the emotional laws of sport are unmerciful and sometimes unjust, but we cannot deflect them either from winners or from losers.’ In 1948, too, Nuvolari competed in three races at the wheel of a Ferrari: the 1,000 Miglia, when his forced retirement raised a cheer among the watching crowds that was actually louder than if he had won; the Bari Grand Prix, where he was placed fourth with Cortese, and finally, on 13 June, at the Mantua Circuit (in his native city), dedicated to the memory of his sons Giorgio and Alberto.
He completed only four laps, but he was in the lead for all of them, before retiring due to illness.
He completed only four laps, but he was in the lead for all of them, before retiring due to illness.
KEEP DOWN!
“Please bring him back!” The mechanic Mambelli was clearly nervous at Nuvolari’s request for his son Paride to sit next to him in the 1932 Targa Florio. “Don’t worry, if there’s danger, I’ll
tell him to keep down,” he said. Afterwards, Mambelli asked Paride how it went: “I didn’t see a
thing, he kept telling me to keep down!”
“Please bring him back!” The mechanic Mambelli was clearly nervous at Nuvolari’s request for his son Paride to sit next to him in the 1932 Targa Florio. “Don’t worry, if there’s danger, I’ll
tell him to keep down,” he said. Afterwards, Mambelli asked Paride how it went: “I didn’t see a
thing, he kept telling me to keep down!”
TAZIO NUVOLARI: PHOTOGRAPHER
In 2009, Nuvolari’s hometown of Mantova hosted a unique exhibition at the Gonzaga Palazzo Te
that featured a series of his photographs taken in various situations away from the track. The images show a unique talent, sensibility and knowledge that go beyond what one would expect from a driver more used to cheating death.
In 2009, Nuvolari’s hometown of Mantova hosted a unique exhibition at the Gonzaga Palazzo Te
that featured a series of his photographs taken in various situations away from the track. The images show a unique talent, sensibility and knowledge that go beyond what one would expect from a driver more used to cheating death.
Da issue 25, may 2014
source: http://magazine.ferrari.com/blog/2014/08/against-all-odds/
by Cesare De Agostini
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