NIGEL ROEBUCK’S HEROES
Jacky Ickx, the all-rounder who raced with humility
IN 1958…
Jacky Ickx was taken by his father Jacques, a prominent journalist, to the Belgian Grand Prix at Spa-francorchamps, and was so bored that he asked to be taken home.
“Maybe I have always been a bit unusual,” Jacky smiled. “The truth is that I never wanted to be a racing driver – never thought about it. Yes, I went to Spa, but I was absolutely not interested. I remember seeing Stirling [Moss] and others at home in Brussels for a cocktail party before the race – even that didn’t impress me!”
Ultimately Jacques Ickx came to dislike motor racing, explaining that he had lost too many friends. “Exactly,” said his son. “So many had gone that it was hurting him, but still he supported me when I started. I wasn’t good at school, but at 16 I was given a trials motorcycle, and for the first time was able to do something well, and realised I could be a winner.”
Once into cars, Ickx’s rise was meteoric, success in touring cars followed by startling Formula 2 performances for Ken Tyrrell in 1967, which led to a late-season full Formula 1 debut with Cooper, then an offer from Ferrari.
Although the V12 engine was well down on power to Cosworth’s DFV, Ferrari made a fine chassis in 1968, and though Chris Amon was invariably the pacesetter, Ickx it was who scored the team’s only victory, in the rain at Rouen.
“Chris was such a lovely guy – and such a beautiful driver, for sure quicker than I was. He had pole positions, led so many grands prix – but never won one, always because of the car. I was new in the team – and then I won the French Grand Prix. It should have been him…”
As Ickx celebrated that day – 7 July – the paddock mourned the loss of Jo Schlesser. After Jim Clark, Mike Spence and Ludovico Scarfiotti, this was the fourth consecutive fatality at this point in a month. “This was my first win,” said Ickx, “and at a wonderful circuit, but it was a terrible time. Of course
I was young, and you think nothing can happen to you – to someone else, maybe, but not you.
Honestly, that was how you had to think – otherwise, you could not have carried on. Back then racing was considered a chivalrous thing: you do – and you die – for the sport. When someone was lost it was always accepted in a way. The progress made in safety is wonderful, because now you’re almost at risk zero.
“Sometimes I wonder how I survived when so many others did not. I remember an F2 race at Barcelona, where I tried to pass Clark on the first lap – and hit the back of his car. We were both out, and it was entirely my fault. Jimmy was the best in the world, and could have been very hard, but he just had a quiet talk to me. One week later he was dead.
“In my house you would not know I had ever been a racing driver. No trophies on display, and just one racing photograph on my wall – the wonderful picture by Jesse Alexander of Jimmy’s face, completely drained, after a race at Spa.”
In 1969 Ferrari returned to sportscars, so Ickx – wishing to continue with John Wyer’s sportscar team – left for Brabham, beating Jackie Stewart in a straight fight at the Nürburgring, and also winning at Mosport. Following Amon’s departure, though, Enzo Ferrari was keen to have Jacky back, and in 1970 – driving the new flat-12 312B – he came within an ace of becoming world
champion. Uniquely in the annals of racing history, he rejoiced that he did not.
“At first the 312B was not so reliable, but later we were able to compete with [Jochen] Rindt and the Lotus 72. By then, though, Jochen had a big points lead, and it looked impossible to catch him.”
Then came Monza, where Rindt was killed in final qualifying, and after winning the next race in Canada Ickx found himself the only other driver with the possibility to win the title. “First of all, honestly, the world championship had no meaning for me – the goal was always to win races, not calculate how many points I would get for this position or that.
“Still, this was a horrible situation. I was obliged to try and win for Ferrari if not for myself, and if I won the last three races I would be champion, by one point. I won at St Jovite, but then had a problem at Watkins Glen and finished fourth. That was a huge release. I didn’t want to be champion, beating a man who... wasn’t there any more. Where would have been the glory in that? Jochen deserved the championship – if God exists, he made the right decision. I went to the last race, in Mexico, in a good frame of mind. And I won again.”
There would be further victories for Ferrari over the next two seasons, not least a dominant display at his beloved Nordschleife in 1972, but the team’s fortunes plummeted the following year, and although Ickx has only good memories of Maranello, he left for Lotus. By now his F1 career was on the wane, but there remained
JACKY ICKX one last victory: in torrential conditions at the 1974 Brands Hatch Race of Champions, he passed the Ferrari of Niki Lauda at Paddock Bend – on the outside...
While a magnificent F1 driver, Ickx is most remembered for his many sports car wins for Wyer, for Ferrari, for Porsche. There were six at Le Mans, including the fabled triumph in 1969, when his Ford GT40 beat Hans Hermann’s faster Porsche by a scant 130 yards. The victory Jacky remembers most fondly, though, came in 1977.
“My Porsche retired with an engine problem, and I went to the remaining car, which had also had troubles, and was lying 40th. Ahead there were four works Renaults, which were the quickest cars, but we all drove like maniacs, pressuring them so much that in late morning the last one retired. It was one of those days when nothing will stop you.”
As a motorsport all-rounder, Ickx – who won the Canam championship, won at Bathurst, won the Paris-dakar – might be thought of in the same terms as Moss or Mario Andretti, yet he looks back on it all with disarming humility.
“In the rest of life, you know, selfishness is a defect, but in racing it’s necessary if you are going to be a winner. I’m much happier today because in so many ways I’m another person. I was quite difficult when I was young – winning was my only goal – but now I don’t have any ego any more.
“I watch the races on TV, and enjoy going to Monaco or Spa, but whereas at Goodwood I know everyone, F1 is a world I don’t know any more, and I don’t think I would have survived too well in it – not in the physical sense, because it’s so much safer than it was – but all the PR work, and so on, I would have hated.
“I always kept a certain distance from total professionalism – somewhere it was always a sort of hobby. Between race weekends, you know, I never used to give racing a thought...”
IN THE REST OF LIFE, YOU KNOW, SELFISHNESS IS A DEFECT, BUT IN RACING IT’S NECESSARY IF YOU ARE GOING TO BE A WINNER