Tributes to Elio de Angelis     

A tribute to Elio by Mike Doodson,  taken from the 1987 FOCA F1 Grand Prix Yearbook

ELIO DE ANGELIS - A Gentleman with ability and style

When Elio De Angelis arrived in Formula 1 with Shadow, it was 1979: he was 20 years old, with enough money from his father's civil engineering company to buy him his place.  By the end of that season, he had decided to move to Lotus, and he was being sued for breach of contract.  He later said he was happy that Shadow wanted him to stay because of his ability, not his familys sponsorship.

Driving racing cars may seem like an enjoyable way for a rich young man to while away his youth.  Once, maybe that was true.  Not in 1986, as Elio explained 'Everyone who comes into Formula One has to make a sacrifice, one way or another,' he said.  'It's not that easy to come into F1: you can pay your ticket in, but the ticket out is very easy.  This is not an easy place to sit.  Tomorrow you can be sitting on the beach, without any apparent reason.'

Finally, the difficult sport at which this admirable Roman excelled also demanded the ultimate sacrifice.  It is possible that he died in vain.  When his Brabham ran off the Ricard track and overturned at 175mph during a test session in May, there were no marshals at the Verrerie corner where the car landed and caught fire.  Witnesses have suggested that he died, not because of his injuries, but because his brain had been starved of oxygen as he lay trapped.  His Father, Giulio, initiated a still unresolved legal action to establish the truth.

It should not be forgotten that he led the world championship points for several weeks in mid 1984 before the superior grip and reliability of the McLarens catapulted Lauda and Prost ahead of his Lotus.  Elio should certainly have won many more Grands Prix than the two which stands to his credit.  The first victory, at the Osterreichring in 1982, was a memorable scrap which saw him cross the line a tyre's width in front of Keke Rosberg.  They were to become close friends, perhaps because they could talk about things other than motor racing.  Elio loved his job, but he didn't take it home with him.

He was talented in so many other ways, too.  When he decided to race full-time in F1 he learned to speak English in a matter of months.  He could have been a professional pianist ('but I didn't want to end up playing in an embassy somewhere') and he would have made a fine diplomat.  He knew the meaning of old-fashioned values like loyalty and honour, qualities which he felt were not forthcoming from Lotus in his sixth and last year with the British team.

Why, as his long-term German girlfriend Ute Kittelberger, headed into her late twenties and the end of her career as a model, he even talked of settling down and marrying her.  He had two brothers and a sister himself, so he was looking forward to having a family of his own.

At the beginnings of the Lotus contract he built up solid friendships with Colin Chapman and Mario Andretti, both of them old enough to be his father.  Later, after Chapman died there were clashes of personality with those around him.  He was harsh about Nigel Mansells track manners, but actually asked to be forgiven soon afterwards.  He was never reconciled, though, to Ayrton Senna, whom he accused of dangerous driving and machiavellian plotting.

Maybe Elio was jealous of Senna's talent and fire, though he denied it: 'I've gone jumping over the top of other cars and banged wheels with other people, I've done all those things,' he insisted, 'but people tend to forget.'

The opportunity to drive for Brabham in 1986 was one which gave him great pleasure.  In spite of the team's almost incessant setbacks with the revolutionary BT55 'skateboard', he admired designer Gordon Murray and liked the iconoclastic Brabham mechanics.  The respect was mutual.  They weren't close to making the new car a winner when Elio was killed, but he had put enough hard work into the project by then to disprove all the theories about his alleged lack of motivation.  Murray was devastated but the accident, the first in which a Brabham driver had been killed since he started designing cars for the team in 1972.

In the aftermath of the accident, there was a rush to condemn the Ricard circuit and a hasty volte-face by FISA in its attitude towards turbo engines.  It would be no tribute to the memory of Elio De Angelis if he were to be remembered soley as the man whose death catalysed the authorities into action, for he enhanced the image of his chosen profession.

He was a driver who had all the makings of a champion, in spite of, not because of, his background.  That is how we should honour his memory.

An appreciation by Derek Allsopp

For once, he didn't appear quite so well-groomed, quite so sophisticated, and he had distinct problems negociating the lingual chicanes. He spread himself across a corner of the motorhome, his race suit half open and declared a little belatedly "tonight I think I get a little drunk". Except that he didn't say "drunk".

This was Elio de Angelis's way of enjoying victory, the second of his Formula one career, at Imola. It was alas, to be his final victory and we were to enjoy his driving and his company for just one more year. He died, after a terrible crash in testing, at the Paul Ricard circuit in May 1986.

Perhaps if he had won more of his 108 races some of the uninhibited fun might have evaporated from his hour of triumph. I like to think not. Elio had a insatiable appetite for the good things in life and nothing exceeded his delight in success.  It can be claimed - with a degree of justification - that he didn't chase that success as forcefully as some. If the machinery met his requirements he  would push himself to the limit, if it didn't he would not attempt to defy logic or the odds. Consider that and you have the retched irony of his death.

But there were always those who underestimated de Angelis, those who were reluctant to acknowledge his quality. His arrival in F1 as another rich kid was not calculated to smooth his path. Suspicion and envy find fertile ground in this game.

I believe he was, at critical points in his career, a victim of circumstances and misfortune. When he joined Lotus the great team was in decline anyway, but his anxiety was compounded by the emergence of Nigel Mansell as a declared challenger to his number one status and the death of  Chapman.

The renaissance of Lotus gave him fresh optimism and eventually Mansell departed to make way for Ayrton Senna. That was, however, the beginning of the end of his association with the Norfolk camp. By the time of that 1985 San Marino Grand Prix win, Senna had spelled out his own ambitions and the Latin cocktail proved an impossible mix. Although de Angelis led Senna for much of the Championship he was soon informed that the young Brazilian would be team leader for '86. "I don't think it is fair, but what can I do?" Elio would ask. There was, of course, only one answer and he left Lotus after six years with the team.

Again, he was to sign for a team with a glorious past, but an uncertain future. Brabham were on the downward curve and a new car faced inevitable testing problems. He had four races with Brabham, all without scoring, before his fatal accident.

Yet, above the ill-luck and political in-fighting rose a rare man, a rare driver, and the legacy of his is one we should cherish. Modern sport has a way of draining the colour and substance from its exponents. De Angelis's resistance to such a threat proved a marvellous exception. The driving reflected the man, it had style, charm; it was easy, natural; it was unhurried, uncomplicated.

De Angelis was a roman, a fiercly proud Roman of wealthy stock. He had the looks of a young Brando and the charisma, too. The debonair Elio didn't, however take kindly to anyone ramming the silver spoon down his throat. "That makes me angry" he would say.

When Elio was angry the glossy image cracked. He would remonstrate, gesticulate in true Italian tradition. But mostly we saw another Elio; a warm wholesome, intelligent, perceptive human, with a glint in his eye and a devastating smile. He would engage you in frank, fascinating conversation on a range of fascinating subjects then have you reeling in laughter at his jokes. Even in English, he was the most captivating of raconteurs.

He was a multi-talented man. During the South African drivers' sit in of 1982, Elio helped buoy morale with a splendid performance of classical music on the piano. "Some day, when I finish racing, I will settle down, have a family and play my piano".

He was a versatile sportsman. He loved skiing and tennis, and, as a player or spectator, had a ferocious passion for football. But more than anything, he craved speed, an obsession he inherited from his powerboat racing father Giulio.

Elio, the eldest of four children, raced with his father, and had a few 'character-building' mishaps along the way. He decided to seek fame on dry land. He began racing karts at the age of 14 and was European champion at 18. He moved on to cars and swiftly advanced through F3 and F2. He had his baptism of fire with the Shadow team in 1979 and impressed sufficiently to earn his chance with Lotus the following season, as partner to Mario Andretti.

His first Grand Prix success, at the Osterreichring in 1982, was one of the most thrilling in the history of the World Championship. He managed to fend off Keke Rosberg's Williams and take the decision by inches. Amid the chaos and confusion and celebration that followed, he virtually ran down Chapman. The party spilled into the night and into Italy, but victories were not to flow as readily as the champagne.

Instead, de Angelis was to develop a reputation as a consistent finisher and points scorer. He came third, behind the irresistible McLarens, in the 1984 championship and, when he achieved his second win the following spring, glimpsed the prospect of the title itself. "Then we will have a REAL party", he promised.

It was never to be. Elio died in a Marseille hospital on 15 May 1986 aged 28. His car had cartwheeled over a barrier, landed upside down and burst into flames. Approximately 8 minutes elapsed before he was released and then there was a lengthy wait for a helicopter.

His death weighed heavily on the sport's conscience. There were sudden pledges of improved safety standards for testing, of a reduction in power, of modifications to the Ricard circuit.

I, for one though, will remember Elio for much more than the tragic circumstances in which he died. You see, he really did give us so much to savour and to celebrate, after all.

A further tribute by Mike Doodson

Elio de Angelis was looking forward to being with Brabham, a team that had made him offers earlier in his career and which he felt would suit him better. However, he insisted "As far as motivation is concerned, I have much more now than when I started. Now I know exactly what I want - I'm not doing this just for the pleasure of driving Formula 1". He was determined to add more victories to the two he had won with Lotus, and if he had not sincerely believed that he could not get that sort of success with Brabham, he would have given up racing altogether.

Given the radical 'skateboard' design of the Brabham BT55 and its lack of testing, those goals seems rather further away than de Angelis had expected in the first four races of the season. At Ricard last Wednesday, however, he and his new team were edging a little closer to the success of which they were so confident, when his car somersaulted off the road through the 170mph ess-bend after the pits. When medical help finally arrived all seemed hopeless. But he hung on for another 30 hours in a Marseille hospital until he succumbed to serious head and chest injuries. He was 28.

Unlike many of today's single minded drivers, there were genteel non racing facets to de Angelis. Among other things, he was a classical pianist who also adored the compositions of Stevie Wonder. Last year he told me "I think I'm going to stop saying I'm a good musician, because I want to concentrate more on racing. I had a chance to make a record, but I don't want it to detract from my racing."

His racing career started with karting in his early teens: he was Italian national champion in 1974 and second in the world championships of 1975. He won the Monaco F3 race in 1978 and for a brief period held a Ferrari contract - which he deliberately dropped in order to join a British F2 team. When he arrived in F1, it was as a renta-driver in 1979 with Ken Tyrrell, who changed his mind about his new signing and promptly found himself on the wrong side of a high court judgement. The de Angelis family money eased the youngster's way to Shadow, where an amazing performance with a not very good car brought him fourth place and saved Shadow's FOCA travel expenses for 1980. De Angelis quit, to join Lotus, and promptly found himself in the same legal hot water where he'd left Tyrrell. The years at Lotus saw a close, almost paternal relationship with Mario Andretti. He had learned English in a matter of months and endeared himself by his loyalty to his new team, which was already on a downturn. But he won a splendid first GP victory in Austria in 1982, beating Keke Rosberg to the line by a tiny margin. The two men were later to become close friends, largely on the basis that they could spend time in each others company without necessarily talking shop. With Lotus fixed up with Turbos in 1983 and eventually back on the bandwagon, de Angelis was a consistent front runner. In 1984 he was the only man who could match the McLarens, and for a short time in 1985 actually lead the World Championship.

 Already, though, it was obvious that Ayrton Senna had taken over the number one position in the team which de Angelis had worked so hard to achieve. His mechanic, Nigel Stepney who had followed him from Shadow, said it was a carbon copy of the cold shouldering which Nigel Mansell had suffered a year earlier. Paradoxically, it was Senna who paid one of the sincerest possible tributes to de Angelis when the news of his death was confirmed. "He was a very special sort of driver because he did what he did out of love for the sport, not for any commercial reason. He was well educated, a gentleman, someone who was good to know as a person. I am sure he was not responsible for the accident at Ricard, because he was someone who never went over the limit, who never pushed his luck."

Matters of Moment - An appreciation by Nigel Roebuck (Scanned From Motor Sport) NEW!

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