Would you race in today's Formula One?
I wouldn't even think about it for a minute. When you had the luck to be driving the fastest cars in the world, 1,200 HP, the turbo era, slick qualifying tyres, cars that couldn't wait throwing you off track, cars that when you got in you'd ask yourself if you'd come out, that's how powerful they were, that's how difficult it was to keep them on the track. No, you can't find stimulus in today's F1.
When you started, you were quite different from the others: no standing in awe for the Laudas, the Hunts, the Sheckters, the Andrettis...
Yes, the other colleagues would be in awe of the "senators", both on and off the track, but not me. I fought hard, perhaps even too hard. Today people talk about lapped drivers miss a blue flag, while yesterday's Schumis would cuss at you even if you stopped by the side of the track to let them through. The "senators", in those days, would never chat with a young driver.
You paid for being a bit different: when Peterson died in Monza, all the top drivers pointed their fingers at you. You were even banned from the next race. There was a trial and, after years, you were discharged by regular justice.
The "senators" were like a clan. But in Monza I didn't do any wrong maneuvre: I had a car length advantage when I got back on the racing line at the start; since he accused me, it was rather James Hunt making contact with Peterson. Some drivers even hid the photos that would absolve me.
Shadows, Arrows, Brabham, Alfa, Williams and Benetton: these were your cars. Ecclestone's Brabham and Sir Frank's Williams stand out.
If it wasn't for a letter of intents, I would have moved to Brabham already in 1979.
What letter?
The one written by Enzo Ferrari, which made me wait before accepting Ecclestone's offer. Il Drake was not satisfied with Gilles Villeneuve, as he was making too many mistakes. For 1979 Ferrari decided to have me next to Jody Scheckter.
You instead of Gilles?
Yes, but unfortunately for me, at the end of 78 Villeneuve won the GP at Montreal, and at the team they started to consider his position again. But Ferrari told me: "Don't worry, as soon as we change the line up, we'll call you." So I waited. At the end of 1980 Scheckter retired, and I thought "now it's my turn," but Ferrari hired Pironi. I never understood that. I knew il Drake wanted me, and I knew that Luca di Montezemolo, then back at Fiat, wanted me too. I don't know if it was Ingegner Forghieri, or Marco Piccinini... but all hope ended that day. So I decided never to run after dreams again. And when years later, in 1989, the Ferrari team called me again, it was me refusing: they wanted to build a team with Senna and myself. But I told them: "Why would I ever leave such a strong Williams for a so-so Ferrari?"
It's a love and hate relationship with Ferrari, isn't it? At Imola 1983 one of the worst episodes of Italian fandom was recorded: with one lap to go you, leading on a Brabham, go off track and hit a wall, and the fans get up on their feet and celebrates, claps, chants for the victory that goes to Ferrari's Frenchman Patrick Tambay.
It was incredible and mortifying. They were all happy that I hit the wall. And I remember that I thought I was playing a home game, as my hometown Padova is only 150 km from Imola... Let's say that I made up for it by winning with a Williams in 1990. They even clapped for me.
In 1992 you were second in the World Driver's Championship behind Nigel Mansell, while in 1993 at Benetton, with a young Schumacher as teammate, you retired at the end of the year.
This is how it went: after the last GP of the season, due to the horrible relationship with the Benetton team and especially with Mr Briatore, I agreed to leave the team. They weren't happy about me, they said I should retire, they would say "you can't even keep up with that youngster, with Schumi." Funny that since then no Italian driver has managed to win as much as me; funny that we all later saw what kind of exceptional talent that Schumi youngster turned out to be. Well, that's it. I was fed up, depressed, and told myself: "You're 40, it's time to quit now." And that's what I did.
But at Imola 94...
The Senna and Ratzenberger tragedy.
Yeah, and what else happened?
Before the tragedies, in Imola, I agreed with Frank to be his test driver for a year. During the winter I started to miss racing: I thought that being a Williams tester I would have managed to nick Damon Hill's place. We had that agreement on Friday, and then I went back home.
And then those two accidents.
Frank called me: "We need you," he told me, "not just as a tester, but as first driver." I replied "yes" immediately.
But then you didn't race anymore.
Yes, because in the days that followed the tragedies I starting having doubts: it never happened to me while I was racing. I started thinking about how lucky I was to still be alive after 17 years in F1, I thought that everything always went well for me, that Ayrton was a driver as experienced as I was, that I drove the safe car that was mine for five years... and now he was dead. I called Williams: "Frank," I said, "I don't feel like it anymore."
And what now?
Now I enjoy life.
Riccardo is 50 years old tomorrow. Buon compleanno!
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