The Ferrari red of Michael Schumacher’s Scuderia days might be a thing of the past, but the blinding blue and fluorescent yellow blend from Valentino Rossi’s larger-than-life presence is still on the road.
Even in India, where the market for MotoGP - two-wheeler racing - is a blip on the radar, Rossi’s essence isn’t lost on us. Each time you see ‘The Doctor’ or ’46’ stickered to a bike or a car, or a blaring blue-yellow bike, it’s them paying homage to arguably the greatest rider there ever was, and possibly ever will be.
Yes, there’s enough talent on the current Moto GP grid to believe that someone will don the mantle of ‘greatest’ again, but none can replicate what the man from Italy has done. All this while being unapologetically himself, even in his last race in Valencia last week.
For twenty-six seasons since 1996, Rossi has done things on the track once thought impossible. Besides the nonchalant execution of surgical precision on the track, it was the loud hairstyles, those statement earrings, absurd helmets decals (some as self-deprecating as images of viagra because he was old), pranks, jokes one would only hear from pre-pubescent teens.
In a profession where being pre-maturely mature was considered virtuous, he vehemently refused to do so. He wanted to be left alone in Peter Pan mode, only wanting to do what he was put on to do: ride. So he rode for us but lived for himself. In him, you saw that you didn’t have to take yourself too seriously to be the best at your craft.
This odd combination of pristine focus under the helmet and unintentional comedic genius without it is exactly why many gravitated towards him. Oh, and there was that unbridled passion. That, according to some riders in India, is why he appealed to the Indian demographic.
“I saw him race in Laguna Sece in 2006, and I was glued to the television after that,” said Aaquil Hussain, a former racer from Bengaluru. “…but I wanted to watch him race live. I had made up my mind but I was bad at studies and coming from a middle-class family, I couldn’t afford it. So I took up a job in 2008 to make that happen, and since 2012 I have gone to every race in Malaysia.
“Even when the opportunity to move to Australia came up, I ensured we moved to Philip Island because that’s one of his favourite tracks. I was telling my wife last week that we wouldn’t be here, literally and figuratively, if it wasn’t for him and that we are living this life all because I wanted to watch him race.”
“How he hugged his bikes after races… we all understood that passion,” he added.
Rajini Krishnan, who has been one of India’s best riders for two decades, said: “He rides as if none of the pressures of racing matter. I have been in the racing business long enough to know that it does play on your mind and to put all that aside is sometimes impossible. He managed to do that with so much grace. He always laughed at everything, with everyone and he’s such a nice human.”
He continued: “It’s hard to be friendly in racing because there’s always so much at stake and yet he was that. He was loving and kind to everyone, he never turned down a request for an autograph or a picture. Even when I met him, there was this friendliness, it was so appealing, so freeing. It’s like he was just another guy, only he isn’t.”
Yeah, he isn’t. Giacomo Agostini is statistically the most successful Moto GP racer of all time, which is enough to satisfy those who crown heroes based on cold, hard numbers. But those who have seen Rossi understand viscerally that there’s more to life and racing than numbers.
“I met him a couple of times but the time I met him in Qatar was surreal because he sat and spoke to me for about 15 minutes. This was during testing so he was so much more relaxed,” said Bengaluru industrialist Akhil Krishnan.
“He’s aware of the kind of following he has in India. I showed him a photo of an autorickshaw with ’46’ on the back in Chennai, and immediately Rossi got excited after seeing the Piaggio. He was talking about how during his childhood they had an identical three-wheeler, but with much more power, and they would soup it up and drive it through the streets of Tavullia. It was unreal that the greatest ever was having this conversation with me.”
Rossi started 435 Grands Prix, won 115 races and been on the podium 235 times so he’s not lagging behind on that count either. But would Agostini wear a Robin Hood outfit and shoot an arrow off the podium? Would he run to a portable toilet on the slow-down lap? Would he take Osvaldo - the man in a chicken costume - on a victory lap? Would he kiss The Corkscrew in Laguna Sece? Or at least stage the ‘Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs’ after winning his seventh title?
Agostini wouldn’t dare. Rossi didn’t care. Hence the adoration.
“I have never seen this sort of love and respect for anyone,” said Anil, a former racer and the founder of Apex Racing Academy. “We couldn’t help but be drawn by his charisma. He showed us that we could express ourselves without the fear of being judged.
“It’s sad to see his career come to an end but we’re glad that it ends with him alive and well. And his academy is changing the face of racing.”
Ten out of the 20 riders on the current grid have come through the VR46 Academy, which is also why when he rode his last race in Valencia they all turned out to say ‘goodbye’ to the small-town boy from Tavullia who became a legend and now a teacher.
“It was such a heartbreaking moment to see everyone crying,” said S Sarath Kumar, the first Indian to participate in MotoGP (125 cc class). “The man meant too much to everyone, even to me. He is someone we all wish we can be but can’t. There’s only one Rossi.”
Never has there been unanimous love and respect for a rider on his final lap, and yet there was an emotional outpouring for Rossi. If only for a moment, they let go of the need to be stoic, withdrawn, ‘men’.
They were all but young boys, some toddlers and some not born, when he raced to nine world titles since his first in 1997. They were all reverting to that innocent space to show respect to the greatest man-child racing has ever seen. They allowed themselves to cry while he smiled and laughed, at the end just as in the beginning.
From India: ‘Grazie Vale’.