Part 3

During practice I had broken Farina's lap record so I shared pride of place on the front row of the starting grid beside Fangio and Farina in Alfa Romeos and Ascari, my team-mate in a Ferrari. I felt very much that we were\ in the public eye - just as I had in Reims - but this time I knew that nobody would take my car away from me.

The "jewel" was at the starting grid while I kept pacing back and forth under tremendous nervous tension. I wandered aimlessly in a daze while a handful of my countrymen - just a few of my own people in this crowded and very foreign arena - were talking to me, trying to calm me. I could not listen to them. My mind would not concentrate on anything but the race. It was my obsession. I even carried on a conversation with myself: "Pepito! You, a peasant, have entered a high society party." I tried to relieve tension by asking myself: "Pepito! What are you doing among so many Field Marshals? What will they all say in Argentina, in Arrecifes; what will your parents think?" And finally, when these questions did nothing to calm my nerves, I muttered aloud in a panic: "Pepito! How will you get out of this!"

It was the strident note of the horn announcing 5 minutes to race time which brought me abruptly to my senses. I had to rush to the toilet! And each time that devilish horn sounded again it increased my tension and anxiety. But at last we were in our cars. I stared at the starter, very careful not to move my car a fraction of an inch forward, since an early start meant a one-minute penalty. All the engines were revving impatiently while the crowd stood motionless watching us all on the grid. To me the grid was Hades and the engines were instruments in a hellish concert. My heart felt as if it would burst. Breathing was difficult. Then, just before I felt I must pass out, the starter's flag came down. We were away. And what a start it was. The four of us in the front row, trying to lead the pack, accelerated so suddenly that our wheels spun while the cars moved forward in slow motion, leaving behind a cloud of rubber smoke through which the other cars roared, overtaking us like arrows! When our tyres got a grip on the track we found that instead of being pursued we were pursuing, trying desperately to find a gap in the crush of vehicles to catch up the leaders who were of course, increasing their speed.

As we passed the pits for the first time I noticed that both the Alfa and Ferrari team managers were signaling the same instructions, which were in effect that we should drive our own race. The alarming start meant that team tactics must be abandoned. "Go for the lead," came the urgent message and soon as I saw that I went flat-out. By the next lap I was leading.