“Ch´un bel morir tutta una vita onora”

Petrarca (Siglo XIV)

Passion for going fast professionally, sometimes forces you to pay heavy price tributes. Not to mention for the fans or even higher for friends, and almost bordering the unspeakable for deceased drivers’ relatives. This is mentioned because last Sunday, July 17, was celebrated the anniversary of two great FORMULA 1 drivers which allow figurations to take place due to a paradox itself, or because of the value of each, one belonging to this age and the other from the romantic past. The greatest and maybe the most immortal (if possible) would be the five times world champion, and on the other hand: the smallest, since he hardly reached a couple of points. One from Argentina and the other one from France, one resting in holly peace assisted with all the ritual of an orderly departure from this world and maybe supported by a psychological counselor or by a religious minister; the second one, surprised by the heat of a fight like a full speed train on a very challenging track and above all, on a rainy afternoon. Juan Manuel Fangio died in 1995 with time above him and within himself, with his 84 years and a farewell befallen possibly with the most of his desires satisfied. His end happened laid in his bed in Buenos Aires, surrounded by the parsimonious calm that comes with the old age. Jules Bianchi on the other hand, was surprised by the fleeting step to the beyond, aboard a racing car – a Marussia in Suzuka, on a Sunday afternoon in October 5, 2014– caused by a series of mortal and fatal coincidences, as they had been planned to come out within the millimeter. The eternal five times champion, who used to go around preaching his personal axiom: ‘Races must be won at the minimum speed possible’, the Frenchman having recently emerged from the shell of the first youth, with only 22 years old, and leaving out of nowhere in 2015 after months of being in a cruel vegetative state. Juan Manuel was mourned and said farewell with the heart in our hands, but with a fancy circumspect silence, with no fuss: because it was inevitable his early departure, instead of waiting for the terrible decrepitude. Jules has been mourned with infinite burden, because nor a logic neither valid enough explanation has been received, he was easily torn out from this life and that’s it. Mr. Formula 1 died as the good man he was, leaving his legacy of never ending feats in heritage. ‘The Chueco of Balcarce’ lies now on a canoe in soliloquy, in the immensity of nowhere. The greatest promise of recent years, says farewell – however- as a newly flowering hero. Fangio gave the world his accuracy, his perfect manners and unrivalled chivalry. Bianchi left this heartless reality, pouring everything in his path with his vital essence, filling the minds of those who admired him and loved him so much, with beautiful fragrances of a promise that remains as a phone call without being taken, full, saturated with a black silence of what could have been. Both lie in the never ending interregnum. May both rest in peace, without burden and may both rest again… From here, we are infinitely grateful for the existence of this pair.