Based on what they described as the Frenchman’s ‘round face, blonde bob haircut, blue eyes and muscular frame’, the Italian media conjured up their own name for the new man, ‘Cicciobello’, the name of a toy doll popular with children. Whether Didier was flattered or not by the comparison is not known. He might have been French by birth, but as of winter 1980, Italy had reclaimed the Parisian as one of her own.
Didier rounded off an eventful year by accepting an offer to appear at the Australian Grand Prix in November. Although billed as a ‘Grand Prix’, the race was in reality a Formula 5000 race with the addition of Alan Jones’ world title-winning Williams FW07 and Bruno Giacomelli’s Alfa Romeo 179. The brainchild of Australian entrepreneur Bob Jane, the three F1 stars had been invited to boost the gate, a given since Melbourne-born Jones had only just been crowned F1 champion of the world. Up against the F1 trio, a pack of tough Aussie professionals led by Alfredo Costanzo. Didier teamed up with John Bowe, an up-and-coming driver who was honoured to partner a Grand Prix superstar.
‘He was a very cool cat with a gorgeous girlfriend who my mates all lusted after,’ recalls Bowe. ‘I was young and quite inexperienced but I really liked him and he had a great sense of humour which we loved.’
Enjoying a substantial performance advantage, it was no surprise that the F1s of Jones and Giacomelli ran riot at the front of the field. Best of the rest, Didier finished a distant third, leading home a gaggle of local drivers. It was a blisteringly hot day in south-east Australia. Stood on the victory podium the three F1 men gulped copious amounts of water as Jackie Stewart conducted interviews. During the race, the triple world champion turned pundit recalled how, once upon a time, as a judge at Pilot-Elf, he had cast his vote for a certain ‘Didi’ Pironi, ‘in my opinion,’ the Scot added, ‘one of the best drivers in the world, I expect him to be world champion within the next two or three years. Tremendous talent the young man has, very nice young boy, he almost looks like a teenager …’ Ever since he had laid eyes on the young French kid at Ricard that auspicious October day eight years earlier, the Scottish legend had monitored Didier’s progress with something akin to parental concern. Now, he delighted in watching his ‘son’ blossom. Similarly, when asked which drivers he admired most, Didier invariably nominated Stewart. In particular, he admired how the Scot had chosen to quit while still at the top of his profession. Didier never did intend hanging around F1 longer than necessary.
It was not just JYS who was blown away. The new Ferrari driver left quite an impression on Bowe: ‘As all talented drivers show, he had a very smooth style, and was very quick. He asked me lots of questions which flattered me, but the bottom line to me was that he was an ace driver and an ace bloke.’ Respect was mutual: ‘Didier was very encouraging of coming over to race in Europe the following year. Unfortunately it was way too big a step for a boy from Tasmania, but my memories of Didier are full of pleasure.’
After three years in Formula 1, Didier had graduated to the most famous racing team in the world, one steeped in folklore. It somehow seemed appropriate. There was just one snag: a pint-sized Canadian who with his bravery and daring had already won the hearts and minds of an entire nation. His name, Gilles Villeneuve.
Sixteen
Riviera days
On a sultry afternoon in late summer 1980, an Italian television crew headed for the French Riviera. Their mission: an interview with Didier Pironi. Ferrari rumours had been mounting for some time, the ensuing speculation at least partly accounting for this pilgrimage. Did the programme makers hope to obtain a scoop perhaps? If so, they would be disappointed. Weeks later, the French lieutenant would indeed be announced as a Ferrari driver.
Leaving the chic resort of St Tropez behind, the crew ascended the tight and twisty roads that led them to La Garde Freinet, a medieval village nestled in the hillside overlooking the spectacular Gulf of St Tropez. The Pironi-Dolhem villa was one of several similar properties that peppered the landscape, the retreat of people like themselves, well-to-do Parisians who would think nothing of jetting down to the Riviera for a weekend break to escape the hustle and bustle of the French capital. Ever since Brigitte Bardot first strutted her stuff in the movie And God Created Woman, the port had become a magnet to the international jet set. Its quayside crammed with superyachts, St Tropez had a reputation for hedonism. Venture just a few kilometres inland, however, into the hillside villages, and the vibrant, at times brash ambience of the port could not have been farther away.
During his teenage years, Didier had spent much time in this area, holidaying at the same rented property year on year. Subsequently, the family had constructed their own villa complete with swimming pool. Tucked away in a secluded spot deep in the hillside, the property boasted breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside. Paradise, or near as dammit. Seclusion and tranquillity certainly, a place where the Pironi-Dolhems could unwind far, far from the madding crowd. Characterised by a climate in which endless sunny days would morph into even balmier evenings, this was an environment cherished by the whole family. A piece of heaven.
His celebrity rapidly growing, Didier would become an instantly recognisable figure in and around St Tropez and its environs. Appearances at one of the resort’s swish bars or restaurants would inevitably draw a crowd of onlookers, female fans proving particularly adept at grabbing (and keeping) his attention. At other times, he might be found tearing along the twisting roads that connect villages such as Grimaud and Cogolin on his Honda CBX superbike, sans helmet, naturally. Capable of hitting speeds of 135mph and with fearsome acceleration, the Japanese-built machine had a notorious reputation. Indeed, the bike had already claimed the life of one of Didier’s circle.23 Riding this supercharged monster without a helmet was asking for trouble – not that it deterred either Didier or José. On the contrary, the brother-cousins seemed to revel in the brute power of a machine for which the moniker ‘death-trap’ could have been specifically coined. Long hot days, comprising of adrenaline-fuelled adventures in car, bike, boat or plane followed by frivolity and adulation down in the bars and restaurants of St Tropez. At 28 years of age, the golden child stood at the peak of his considerable powers.
At the height of that dreamy summer of 1980 on a languid Mediterranean afternoon, the Italian film crew arrived in the Côte d’Azur to be afforded a rare glimpse into the milieu of this otherwise fiercely private family.
Airing on Italia 1, Grand Prix was a half-hour television programme devoted to all things motorsport, with a bent towards F1. Produced by ex-Ferrari driver Andrea de Adamich, the show often went behind the scenes, gaining unrivalled access to motorsport personalities. Somehow, the producers had sought and gained permission to join the Pironi-Dolhems at their splendid hillside retreat. Footage of the programme survives to this day: Imelda is present, so too aunt Ilva. Louis Dolhem appears briefly, observing proceedings not altogether incuriously from a balcony.
As for Didier, he answers the interviewer’s questions in that calm, polite way of his. The voice is soft, gentle, composed. Revealingly, as he speaks, Imelda sits at hand scrutinising his every word. It is the usual chatter: racing, winning, ambition, as well as some questions pertaining to Ferrari. Though he had all but joined the Italian squad, you would not have guessed it by the young man’s demeanour, which never changes despite the interviewer’s subtle probing. The crew then follow Didier out to the patio. Beside him, the swimming pool shimmers. It is a balmy, almost indolent afternoon in the south of France. Later, the crew accompany him to his Port Cogolin office where the business of boat sales and rentals is conducted. To top off the day, some lucky members of the production crew are taken for a spin in his powerboat. As a snapshot into a particular moment in time, the film offers a fascinating insight into the life of a sporting hero for whom the terms enigmatic, unfathomable and taciturn might have been invented. A day with Didier, pure whimsy, fantasy.
As elusive as a butterfly, catching up with Didier Pironi was never an easy task at the best of t
imes. It was not just journalists. Friends would often find themselves in the dark, unsure as to his whereabouts or indeed his schedule. Didier had a habit of keeping people guessing. Whether it was the castle at Boissy, the villa at St Tropez, or the apartment at Neuilly, depending on commitments or the mood, pinning him down was no easy task. The Grand Prix film crew had done themselves proud.
When he was not taming the streets of Monte Carlo or flying over the bumps of Jacerapagua, he might be found on the shores of Lake Como where business partner Tullio Abbate crafted some of the most beautiful boats ever to set sail. When he was not talking boats with Abbate, he might be found pounding around the Ferrari test track near Modena. As 1980 ended, he was also spending ever more time at Catherine Bleynie’s Geneva home where his glamorous new girlfriend ran a high-end boutique for the Givenchy fashion brand. Geneva, Paris, Milan, St Tropez, Modena – Didier never stayed in one place too long. So, what was it like to live with such a man, to be engaged to such a man?
In 1981, Catherine Bleynie shared her thoughts with Italy’s Autosprint magazine. Who is Didier Pironi? What type of man is he? What is he like? Like many before and after her, the French ace seemed to intrigue the journalist who conducted the interview.
‘He is a very picky person, a perfectionist,’ replied Catherine when asked about Didier’s character. ‘He loves that everything is done perfectly and detests approximation. He wants to have the most beautiful house, the nicest car.’ Bleynie then delineated two very different Didiers: ‘He is a kind and considerate guy by nature; he hides torment, any jealousy, and even anxiety very well. When he is happy he is smiling but when angry he does not speak and everything closes within himself.’
As a new year dawned, Didier’s thoughts turned to the forthcoming F1 season, his fourth in the sport. Development of Ferrari’s 126C – the car the team hoped would turn their fortunes around after a disastrous 1980 campaign – had started in earnest even before the last leaves of autumn had fallen. Regular trips to Fiorano were interspersed with tests at Paul Ricard and Imola. Ferrari was desperate to avoid a repeat of 1980. Thus, the team were pinning their hopes on a new turbocharged engine. Although work had started the year before, Ferrari were already behind Renault whose turbocharged car had first appeared at the British Grand Prix in 1977. There was much work to be done. It was during these long, hard days that Didier became properly acquainted with his new team, its personnel and way of working.
In January, he spoke frankly to Sport-Auto revealing a hitherto unknown anxiety regarding his Ferrari move:
‘I was not really convinced of having made a good choice,’ he told Johnny Rives, ‘until I visited the Ferrari factory and met the people. It was a relief. Prior to this, I had never been that fascinated by the Ferrari myth, less than most drivers and other professionals. My first visit to Maranello has however completely changed my opinion. Today, Ferrari represents to me something quite apart.’24
The question uppermost in many people’s minds revolved around his new partnership with Gilles Villeneuve. After three years at Ferrari, with his blend of speed and courage that sometimes bordered on the abnormal, the French Canadian had carved out a niche all his own. Italy adored Villeneuve. Moreover, the little Quebecois was generally agreed at this time to be the fastest if not necessarily the most complete driver of his generation. Could Didier hope to compete against Gilles in what amounted to the Canadian’s own team? There was also the question of backgrounds. While Gilles’ idea of haute cuisine began and ended with burger, fries and Coca-Cola, Didier’s tastes were of an entirely different nature. The Canadian was a family man married to his childhood sweetheart, a doting father to two young children; the Parisian, meanwhile, was the archetypal motor racing playboy.
Many in the French and Italian media had predicted friction between the two men, but contrary to expectations the two ‘peacocks’ hit it off from the start. ‘We share a sense of competition,’ noted Didier. ‘We are both of us dominated by an uncontrollable desire for speed and acrobatics. I love fast boats and I have introduced Gilles to this world. His main hobby is to frolic in the sky in his helicopter.’ The opposites had attracted. ‘We’re both,’ concluded Didier, ‘as crazy as one another.’25
They might have been poles apart in terms of their backgrounds, habits and tastes, but a shared love of white-knuckle riding – risk-taking – bonded the two men together. Keen competition on the test track at Fiorano followed the daredevils off track. Upon his arrival at Maranello, as was company tradition, Didier had been presented with a Ferrari 308 GTS, a sleek supercar with a top speed of 150mph.26 More toys for Didier and Gilles to play with. It was in these iconic supercars that the Ferrari pilots indulged in some hair-raising stunts, walking a precarious line in terms of not only legality but morality too. Decades have passed, but there are still those who recall their antics. Amongst their favourite pursuits was a game of chicken. The rules of this ‘game’ were simple: keep the foot planted on the 308’s accelerator for longest without lifting, the winner being he who drove the car flat out for the longest unbroken period of time.
A 600-kilometre run, starting at Paul Ricard and ending at the Fiorano test track, taking in the delights of the French and Italian Rivieras, Cannes, Nice, Sanremo, the journey would normally be expected to take about six hours; Pironi-Villeneuve in a Ferrari 308? Less than half that time.
News of these Riviera white-knuckle rides even made it into the pages of the Italian media. In early spring, the media reported that the Carabinieri had been involved in a high-speed car chase in which they pursued a Ferrari being driven at astonishing speed. Rumours soon spread regarding the identity of the two male occupants. At least one of the occupants in the 308 was rather adept at shaking off police pursuits, having earned his spurs on the streets of Boissy some years previous. On the rare occasions when such chases ended in the Carabinieri’s favour, sanctions invariably ended in nothing more onerous than autographs and photographs.
Both Didier and José craved speed, but did the brother-cousins also crave danger even more? What else could explain their audacious plan to take part in the London to New York Trans-Atlantic air race, a reprise of the famous race held in 1969 sponsored by the Daily Mail newspaper? With this aim in mind, the boys had taken ownership of a Second World War B26 bomber. Stripping the plane of its artillery and other weight-inducing accoutrements to reduce some of the craft’s 10,500 kilos, Didier and José were preparing themselves for a serious crack at the race should Ferrari management give their blessing. ‘Between too many private practice sessions and political problems, Formula 1 tires me. I am beginning to know saturation.’ Didier’s rationale for devoting his energy to this project is revealing. Work continued on the plane through spring 1981. ‘I think I will find F1 more fun upon my return from New York,’ prophesied the driver, revealing a hitherto unknown antipathy towards his chosen profession. On the subject of danger, he was unmoved: ‘I think Turin–Modena is much more dangerous in a Ferrari than Paris–New York by plane.’ Once Ferrari management intimated their objections, however, the project stalled indefinitely.
Meanwhile, testing continued apace at the Fiorano track. The new turbocharged 126C was progressing steadily. Pre-season and Didier took the new car around the circuit in a time of 1’09.61, a whisker away from the lap record for a turbo. Ferrari had the power – of that there could be no doubt. The Mauro Forghieri-designed chassis was a different matter altogether, an Achilles heel that would compromise the car’s potential the entire year.
Ten-year-old Moreno Weffort had a rare glimpse into both these worlds, Riviera and Ferrari that year. Thanks to the exalted status of his French uncle, the schoolboy was immensely popular among his fellow Villesse school friends. ‘My pals were always asking me when Didier would come to Villesse,’ recalls Moreno, who would follow his uncle Pepi into the building profession as an adult. ‘They even formed a Didier fan club! I was a very popular boy in the village!
‘One day my dad and I went to th
e big house in Paris,’ recalls Moreno. A visit to Paris! To the home of his superstar uncle, Ferrari F1 driver! The Italian connection duly arrived at the castle. Moreno walked around in awe. Then he spotted that familiar blue and white design, his uncle’s favourite colours. ‘Above the mantelpiece I saw Didier’s helmet. I couldn’t resist … so I asked if I could try on this famous helmet.’ Carefully, Imelda removed the helmet from its position and handed the precious item to the excited youngster. ‘I can’t explain how I felt at that moment. I was in the Ferrari!’ Little Moreno’s vacation continued when from Paris, he flew with his parents, Imelda and Ilva down to St Tropez to be greeted by his illustrious uncle. ‘I have these scenes before me, like a movie,’ says Moreno.
‘One day we went to the grocery store and Didier was driving us back from town. At some point in the road he braked suddenly. There was a kitten. Didier got out of the car, gently picked up the little cat and took him back to the villa.’ Moreno and his parents went on to spend an idyllic few days at the villa enjoying its seclusion and not least the divine waters of its swimming pool. ‘A dream!’ repeats Moreno. When Didier offered to drive his Italian relatives home, the holiday just got even better.
‘Arriving in Maranello we came to a queue at some traffic lights. I was in the back seat with my mother,’ continues Moreno. ‘Didier turned around to me: “Watch carefully!” Suddenly, he accelerated hard, pulling out of the line of cars at incredible speed. Somehow, we managed to avoid all the cars coming in the opposite direction! I have never been so scared before or after! Didier laughed. “That’s how the adrenaline feels at the start of a race,” he told me with a smile.’ Young Moreno had just done a dummy Grand Prix start with one of the world’s fastest drivers! From here the party headed to Fiorano where Didier insisted on taking his young cousin for a spin around the test track in the BMW hire-car he had used to chauffeur the family to Italy. ‘I did not realise what I was actually experiencing at that time,’ recalls the older Moreno. What the young boy’s friends had to say about this fantasy adventure can be imagined.
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