The John Griff Column: Learning from the quick… and the departed

The death last week of the former Formula 1 racing diver Alex Zanardi has been noted - and mourned by many.

Astonishingly quick and fearless behind the wheel, Zanardi drove for a variety of F1 teams, before moving to the USA to continue his career on the CART and Indycar circuits of those series. 

Zanardi was revered for his skill behind the wheel - athletes of his calibre are few and far between. Ultimately though, it would be something that would break most of us which defined him and led him to be widely viewed as being almost superhuman.

Racing drivers are of a particular breed. Athletic, assured, measured, capable of virtually instantaneous reactions, tactical decision making and spacial perception, they can be shaped and mentored, but have to have the full skillset almost from birth if they are to succeed. The business of motor racing has little room or inclination to indulge young drivers as they develop their capabilities - it is a highly competitive and sometimes fickle market for pilots. Deliver the goods and all is well - fail to do so within a short timeframe and the cockpit of whatever car is being campaigned by whatever team might as well have an ejector seat built into it. 

Zanardi knew this all too well. Contracted by a number of F1 teams including Jordan, Minardi, Lotus and Williams over the years, his style both on and off the track won him fans worldwide. Performance brought fame and fortune - but every driver knows that one day the next generation will come knocking. The trick is to get out before the garage door closes - or injury puts paid to a career. In Zanardi’s case both threatened - and on a fateful day in 2001 the unthinkable occurred. Sliding across the EuroSpeedway Lausitz track in a half-spin, Alex’s CART racer was speared by the oncoming car of fellow competitor Alex Tagliani. Such was the force of the collision that Zanardi’s car was torn in two - as was the man himself, losing both legs above the knee. In the following hours he ‘died’ multiple times in the helicopter transferring him to hospital and on the gurney between the landing pad and the operating theatre - a venue he would visit many times in the months that followed. And yet, somehow, Alex Zanardi confounded medical expectation, surviving to race again in a variety of machines, including, ultimately, the very car in which he had almost been killed. Rebuilt by the Mo Nunn team with hand controls to accommodate him, in 2003 his former team invited him to complete the race distance he was so cruelly denied by fate. Zanardi did so, building his speed as the 13 laps ticked off. There was hardly a dry eye anywhere in the pitlane when he finally returned to his mechanics and parked the car for the final time - having achieved a lap time that would have been good enough for 5th on the grid in 2001.

Years after that initial crash, Alex Zanardi published his autobiography. No stranger to Silverstone and the UK, he flew to London on a publicity tour. I was invited to interview him there and did so in a hotel cafe while he took a break from filming commitments. He walked in to meet me on his prosthetic legs with a huge grin on his face and a bone-crushing handshake. Bizarrely, I recall him being an incredibly warm man, not only in terms of his physical temperature which seemed almost alarmingly high, but also his extreme enthusiasm for life itself. Having died multiple times, here was a man positively brimming with life and vitality, anticipating the next chapter of his career as an athlete - and a racer. When I challenged him on the sanity of returning to the track - and what his family and friends thought of his plans, the grin returned as he told me that he viewed every day following the original crash as a bonus and that he was going to grab and maximise every opportunity which presented itself. I left our encounter clutching a copy of Alex’s book which he kindly signed for me - and stunned by both his positivity and his outlook. 

Alex Zanardi would go on to compete in a variety of motorsport series. He also rose to achieve multiple gold medal winning hand bike track performances as a Paralympian, representing Italy. Cruelly, during a training session in 2020, he momentarily lost control of his hand bike and collided with an oncoming truck. Suffering extensive facial and head injuries, Zanardi disappeared from view into medical care again, much as Michael Schumacher has following his skiing accident in 2013. Rumours swirled for months about Zanardi’s state of wellbeing until, unexpectedly, news of his passing on Friday was confirmed. Peacefully, he had slipped away, surrounded by his family, but mourned by hundreds of thousands of Italians and motorsport fans.

Alex Zanardi embodied the spirit of a true sportsman in his attitude towards others, his prowess and his sheer zest for life. Inspirational, his legacy is one we should all to learn about - and learn from. Last Sunday a number of F1 cars that competed at the Miami Grand Prix meeting bore his name in tribute, including that of race winner and fellow Italian Kimi Antonelli, who also dedicated his pole position to the memory of Zanardi. Rightly so. 

Ciao Alessandro - grazie mille.