Word: ascari
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Into the Water. It was at Monaco that Italy's world champion, Alberto Ascari, drove straight through a sea wall into the Mediterranean (luckily, he could swim); that Rudy Caracciola suffered the leg injury that left him a cripple for life; that Luigi Fagioli crashed and died. Last week 16 cars and drivers took the starter's flag, and only six finished the race. Among those who did not: Scotland's Jimmy Clark, the 1965 Grand Prix champion, who smashed into a retaining wall and walked away...
...starting grid). But he won in The Netherlands with the wrong tires and in France with a rough engine, steered to victory in Belgium with one hand, using the other to hold his slipping shift lever safely in fifth. All told, Jim won seven Grand Prix, equalling Alberto Ascari's 13-year-old record. He would have won the Indianapolis 500 besides, if officials had followed their own rules and black-flagged Parnelli Jones, whose Offenhauser was leaking oil all over the track...
Theory over Practice. The August torrent of vacationers put Europe's motor maniacs on full display. The European driver may appear to be just an exasperated fellow stuck with his underpowered four-cylinder car on an overloaded two-lane highway, but deep down inside he is Ascari lapping the pack, Rommel leading the tanks, De Gaulle thumbing his nose at the world. Driving is a sport, an intoxication, a release. It is in the blood more than in the brain, and spirit means more than skill...
...years and took the first six places last month at Sebring, Fla., the moody Italian intends to cut down his activities. For one thing, he is 65. For another, Ferraris barreling along at 160 m.p.h. have cracked up and killed an awesome roll of racing's best drivers-Ascari, De Portago, Von Trips, Castellotti, Musso. For all his ordinary tyranny with engineers, mechanics and drivers, Ferrari calls in his cars and broods whenever a driver dies. Taunts of "murderer" in Italian newspapers have only increased his determination to step down. Partly because he feels ill-treated in Italy, partly...
...once every 10 sec. The racket of screaming engines echoes deafeningly off cliffs and building walls. The accidents are spectacular. One year a driver ended up with his radiator embedded in the ticket office of Monte Carlo's railroad station, and in 1955 Italy's great Alberto Ascari drove his Lancia over the sea wall into the Mediterranean...