GP500: Silverstone, 1985

It was some 18 months later that I visited Freddie Spencer at home in Shreveport. It was a slightly unearthly experience, but then Freddie – especially as a rider – was more than slightly unearthly. Think Marc Marquez, but then put him on an unruly lightweight two-stroke 500, with a savage power band and squidgy tyres and suspension. And then enter him also in the intermediate class – back then an even lighter 250. And subtract the frequent crashes when looking for the limit.

Then you have an idea of Freddie Spencer. He was accustomed to finding the limit in exactly the same way as Marquez – pushing the front until it let go, and then getting it back again. Crashing, without falling off.

I remember describing it at the time as more like dancing with the motorcycle than riding it. Freddie was leading with complete confidence and accuracy, ready to anticipate every twist of rhythm and melody. The bike was following, with perfect obedience. To other riders, the 500cc two-strokes had an element of untamed beast.