When I started writing race reports here a few weeks back, I solemnly promised Sam not to ever be biased. However, I did not promise not to be personal. And here comes the moment to be personal. I have no intention to be smart, revealing or innovative. My only purpose is to share some feelings which strike me every year at the beginning of May.
As April was drawing to an end, I thought I would sit down and write a few simple sentences about Ayrton Senna. But where to start? Not even for a moment did I consider writing about his achievements and life. This belongs to encyclopaedia and biographers and I am neither. What occurred to me then was that the most important thing about Senna is not necessarily connected directly with his achievements. It doesn’t mean that his achievements aren’t important, but rather that his true greatness was concealed in his character and attitude and not in simple number of pole positions or wins. So the answer to the question about Senna’s phenomenon does not lie in his results as such (which you can list dully like a menu in a restaurant) but rather in his imperceptible spirit (which enabled him to achieve so much). So I thought I’ll simply catch this spirit.
I couldn’t watch Senna in his prime as I was too young then and could hardly know what F1 was. Lack of proper coverage here in Poland surely didn’t help either. As Rafał, a Polish F1 fan, wrote about the late 80s: What kind of following was it…? Access to Eurosport and RTL only, with practically no knowledge of foreign languages. Any pictures of Senna or articles were only available in German Sport Bild or sometimes in Auto International magazine. I had no access to other sources.
Having no personal memories of Senna, I started looking again through old videos of his races, listening to his interviews, searching for others’ opinions about him and simply reviewing his life. I knew that Wikipedia would not give me a true answer to the Senna phenomenon question, but I still naively believed that I can catch his spirit, so I decided to turn to his fans for help.
I asked José, a long time F1 fan from Spain, to write a few words about Senna for me as he was watching the sport in Senna’s times. He picked one of the most controversial moments, namely 1990 Japanese GP and wrote:
I clearly remember the discussion the day before, after qualifying. Senna was the pole man, but he wanted to swap the sides of the grid, as it was well known that in that track the pole was off the racing line. FIA (JM Balestre) denied the drivers’ proposal, and it was ruled that the starting positions on the grid were to be the original ones.
I remember Senna saying “I will not let Prost overtake me into the first corner. I am the pole man and I will take the first corner first, that’s it.”
So I thought “ok, he’s barking, he will not be able to cause an accident, he will try it before the first corner and if he can’t, then he will try to overtake during the race.”
But Ayrton had said that he will not yield, and he meant it. He went into the first corner and crashed into Prost’s car, causing both of them to be out of the race and therefore winning the WDC. Since that day, I started to watch F1 from a different point of view. It was so shocking. Ayrton was ready to do anything if he thought he was doing right.
Paweł from Poland mentioned Senna’s intense rivalry with Alain Prost and Linda from Australia said: he raced dangerously, did not care much for rules, racing was his passion.
Words like shocking, controversial, ruthless but also best, phenomenal, spiritual were coming back all the time in most of the opinions and quotes, buzzing in my head. And, ironically, the more I read and heard about Senna, the more lost I felt. On a theoretical level, I perfectly understand that Senna’s greatness overshadows his controversial nature or, in better words, that controversy was an indispensable part of his greatness (after all I’ve always believed that nice guys do not become multiple champions and every great needs to be ruthless to some extent). So when asked about Senna in general, people will repeat after Niki Lauda: He was the best driver who ever lived. But when asked about specific moments they will turn to the most controversial ones (alongside the 1991 Brazilian GP win with a broken gearbox or his 1993 wet Donington Park drive).
Everyone sharing their memories expressed hope that they helped me. They did (and I’m grateful to you all), but, contrary to expectations, not in a straightforward way, but rather inversely. Reading fans’ comments about Senna, I fully and relentlessly understood one inevitable thing – I will never get it. I will never understand the phenomenon of a driver who was great enough to amaze even his biggest rivals’ fans, who evoked huge controversies, but despite it all is remembered mostly for his talent (ruthlessness and controversy come only next) and whose tragic death contributed to an already great legend*. I know that no matter how much I try, I will never fully get it. It doesn’t really depend on my mental capacity or my F1 knowledge, but rather on the simple fact that I wasn’t able to watch Senna race. So I can ask fan after fan for their memories (and I’m sure I will), I can impatiently wait for Senna movie to be shown in theatres so I can watch it, I can rewatch races and all the interviews with Senna or read tonnes of opinions about him... I can read various inspired comments by Senna like the one about feeling as though [he] was driving in a tunnel like a person possessed and being on a different level of consciousness [...] in a kind of unending spiral. Faster and faster, closer and closer to perfection. I have shivers down my spine when I listen to it, I’m thunderstruck with the elusive power of such statement, but it will never be enough.
The problem is – I still know how each race or controversy would end and as a result it all lacks the emotional factor. The small, yet crucial thing that is surprise and unknown (whether positive or negative) will always be missing. Thus, e.g. shocking decision to get the championship at any cost and crash into your rival, will not be so shocking to me – after all I already know Senna did it, I’ve seen Michael Schumacher doing it and though it’s not common any more, I already know that such an idea can dawn upon somebody. I’m sure there are lots of fans from my generation who would simply say that Senna was great – period – and they get it. Yet I’m convinced we (and I mean F1 fans that started watching the sport after 1994) will never fully understand Ayrton’s phenomenon. People watching Senna will always say what a great tragedy an enormous loss his death was. What I feel, is a huge hole down my Formula 1 fan soul, a gap that can never be filled. And I feel like an orphan, who has never met their parents. Just like a child that doesn’t know their father, I can ask hundreds of questions about Ayrton, I can get as many answers as I only wish, but all the theory in the world will never compensate for the lack of empirical experience. I love F1 and I believe we’re blessed to watch an enormously talented crop of drivers lately, but there’s still a part of my heart that remains empty. There dwells the shadow of Senna, who even 17 years after his death is still present in Formula 1, whether in as tangible thing as F1 safety (which, though always important, became an even more key factor after May 1994), in simple memories of fans, in Lewis Hamilton’s yellow helmet or in Ayrton’s nephew, Bruno.
Some time ago, I came across the picture that accompanies this note. I’ve had it on my desktop since. I watched 1991 Brazilian GP once, thought (simply) what a great racer Ayrton was and closed my Internet browser. Then I looked into Senna’s eyes watching me from my monitor, I looked at the sad boy next to him and I realised that this child is F1 – squeezing the too big yellow helmet in his little hands, a helmet that, paraphrasing Senna, hides feelings that cannot be replaced**.
* I’ve always considered Senna to be a kind of equivalent of a medieval knight. The worst thing for a knight would be to die an old man in his bed as each knight was supposed to be killed like a proper hero during a battle. Senna himself once said: If I ever happen to have an accident that eventually costs me my life, I hope it is in one go. I would not like to be in a wheelchair. I would not like to be in a hospital suffering from whatever injury it was. If I’m going to live, I want to live fully, very intensely, because I am an intense person. It would ruin my life if I had to live partially.
And so it was.
** The actual quotation by Senna: You will never know the feeling of a driver when winning a race. The helmet hides feelings that cannot be understood.
Great thanks to (in alphabetical order): José, Linda, Liz, Margo, Paweł, Rafał and Sam.
P.S. It looks simple, but when you compare the length of the text to the amount of emotions it evoked, it was by no means an easy thing to write.