NIGEL ROEBUCK’S HEROES
The inspirational, enigmatic and hugely talented Pedro Rodríguez
IN JANUARY 1993 THERE WASA TOUCHING EVENT... at Daytona Beach. At this cathedral of stock car racing, they were naming a road course turn for Pedro Rodríguez, and present for the ceremony was his mother. No, she said, she bore no grudge against the sport which had taken both her sons. They had savoured their brief lives. Daytona was always good to Pedro. Twice he won the 24 Hours, but an earlier victory, in 1963, was perhaps the most crucial of his career. The annual sportscar race was then run over three hours, and Pedro came to it grieving the loss of his brother and not sure he wanted to continue. Winning swept away most of his doubts.
Both Rodríguez brothers had immense natural ability, and their father’s wealth allowed them to display it. In 1959 they shared an OSCA at Le Mans, and thereafter frequently drove together in the Ferraris of Luigi Chinetti’s North American Racing Team.
Chinetti missed no opportunity to sing their praises to Enzo Ferrari, and the Old Man offered Don Pedro the opportunity to buy them into the factory team. In 1961 Ricardo, 19 years old, made his F1 debut at Monza, and stunned everyone by qualifying second.
The following year he was a full-time Ferrari driver, but 1962 was a poor season for the team, and when Enzo declined to enter the inaugural Mexican GP, Ricardo arranged to drive Rob Walker’s Lotus. At the end of qualifying, going for pole, he crashed to his death.
Not surprisingly Pedro was traumatised by this, but the Daytona win, two months later, resolved him to carry on. When John Cooper offered a drive at Kyalami, the first GP of 1967, Pedro took it up – and won! Cooper offered a contract for the season, and the die was cast.
For 1968 there came an offer from BRM, and two memories stay with me. First, the Race of Champions, where Rodríguez stalled on the line, getting away when the rest were long gone. Brands Hatch was oily that day, but Rodríguez always excelled on a treacherous surface, and came through to second.
Then there was Monaco, for which he never cared: “You can have fun sliding the car around, but I prefer somewhere like Spa – there you cannot make a mistake and be safe…”
Into Mirabeau the BRM’S brake pedal went to the floor. Somehow Rodríguez made it through most of the corner, but at the exit hit the wall hard. Spectating at Station Hairpin, I watched him sauntering towards us, helmet swinging on his arm.
Pedro was a devout fatalist: “God is the only one that can tell you this is the end of the line, and it is no matter where you are. You can be racing, in the street, in church, you can be anywhere.”
Rodríguez’s ambition was to win Le Mans, and in 1968 he achieved it, sharing a Ford GT40 with Lucien Bianchi. Although there were no victories in F1, Pedro did a fine job for BRM, but unfathomably Louis Stanley dropped him for 1969. By the end of it, he was only too happy to re-hire him and so began Rodríguez’s great period as a racing driver: back with BRM, he also signed a Porsche contract. Ah, Pedro and the 917…
Even though Jo Siffert was the lead driver of the other Gulf Porsche, Rodríguez was the star of the team. “You had the impression,” said team manager David Yorke, “that Seppi did the job with arm flexed, while Pedro sat there resting his thumbs on the wheel.”
Particularly unforgettable was the BOAC Brands Hatch 1000Kms, run virtually throughout in torrential rain. There was a magic about Rodríguez that cheerless April day in 1970: it was a drive to match any I have seen.
In F1, too, his star was rising. In the BRM P153 he won at his favourite circuit, Spa, chased throughout by Chris Amon’s March.
“Pedro passed me on the climb after Eau Rouge,” Chris remembered. “That BRM had loads of power – he didn’t even bother to slipstream me – but his precision was fabulous. I knew I’d get him only if he made a mistake – and he never did…”
Rodríguez, by now well at peace with himself, had become curiously Anglicised, living in Bray, driving around in a classic Bentley. It would glide into the paddock, and out would step this small figure, black hair swept back, omnipresent sunglasses, Goodyear jacket – and the finishing touch, a deerstalker!
“Pedro was eccentric in many ways,” said Yorke. “If you didn’t know him you might have thought he was a bit of a dilettante, but, Ye Gods, he was anything but that in a car.
“At Daytona in 1971 he was sharing with Jackie Oliver – who was sick during his stint. The cockpit of the 917 was cramped and hot – when we opened the door the whole scene in there was pretty frightful, but Pedro, in fresh overalls, didn’t hesitate for a second – just hurled himself into the cockpit, and away he went!”
Rodríguez won that race, and other victories followed. In the BRM he looked set for his best season, winning at Oulton Park on Good Friday, then fighting with Jacky Ickx at a wet Zandvoort. “The BRM was no match for the Ferrari,” remembered Raymond Mays, “but in those conditions Pedro could have beaten anybody in anything. It was only when the track dried that the superiority of the Ferrari told.”
John Wyer believed Rodríguez’s finest drive came at the Österreichring a week later. After leading the early laps of the 1000km sportscar race, he lost six minutes in the pits, yet came back to win. “Pedro could drive absolutely flat out indefinitely, it seemed, and that day he had to – he was in the car for all but
10 laps, and I never saw a greater drive.”
The following weekend Rodríguez ran second to Jackie Stewart in the French GP before retiring, and had high hopes for Silverstone. In testing, 10 days before the race, he set the fastest time.
Wyer, there to watch, was astonished to learn that Pedro had agreed to drive in an Interserie race at the Norisring. BRM, too, was less than enthusiastic about the idea. “We didn’t want him to do that race,” said Mays, “and under the terms of the contract could have stopped him. How I wish to God we had...”
After leading the early laps, Rodríguez came upon a slower car, which moved across as he went to lap it. After hitting a barrier, the Ferrari somersaulted and exploded: when finally released from the wreckage, Pedro was beyond saving. “We thought the world of him,” Mays said. “The mechanics worshipped him – always a sure sign of a man’s worth. In the latter part of his career he was, without doubt, one of the three best in the world.”
Wyer, too, was shattered. “Everyone loved Pedro – as a driver he was an inspiration. He always gave his absolute best, never complained. Money was never important to him. He loved to race.”
Afterwards there was much talk that so great a driver’s life had been lost in so trivial an event, but Pedro himself would not have seen it that way. God, he would have said, decided 11 July 1971 was the end of the line for him: “And it is no matter where you are.”
IN THE LATTER PART OF HIS CAREER HE WAS, WITHOUT DOUBT, ONE OF THE THREE BEST IN THE WORLD RAYM OND MAYS ”