For any older-generation enthusiast, it’s pretty boring these days to see animated debate about what racing driver is the GOAT. That’s right, the so-called ‘Greatest Of All Time’. It’s particularly irksome when one sees a probably perfectly well-meaning fan, deeply immersed in internet racing history, loftily quoting irrefutable statistical evidence to support whatever case they might have to prove that Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Alain Prost, Niki Lauda is that very man – standing there on that unique point of the all-time pyramid.
In reality, of course such debate as a serious concern is effectively unprovable; modern sport is so different an activity from what it was even one generation ago, never mind more than a century and a quarter’s worth.
But way back when I was a school kid, I remember something I’d written about the British Commonwealth being entered for a national competition. Nobody was more astonished than I when told I’d won the darned thing. Big deal – as the prize I was told I could select any book I wanted (up to 30 shillings in price). Being – even then – nuts about motor racing, I chose a rev’em and race’em driver biography entitled Nuvolari: Legendary Champion of International Auto Racing. It was written by the always enthusiastic Italian Count Johnny Lurani, who had actually known the great Nuvolari well from the mid-1930s forward.
Some lofty educationalist presented the prizes at our end of term school bash. When my name was called to accept my prize, this luminary unsmilingly studied the book cover, shook my hand (limply as I recall), and said: “Well done. There you are…” – and then he added “…for
