Gone, but never forgotten

British GP, Silverstone 2011. I was cold, I was wet and felt a touch miserable. Then, coming down the Wellington Straight was a white screaming blur. The rider’s head was down, his throttle was wide open and his hair flapped beneath his AGV.

After the session when all the other riders hurried back to the dry and warm pits he pulled wheelies and waved to the crowd as though he’d won.

I found I wasn’t cold or damp anymore, I was smiling too much to even notice anything else. Hopefully one day my children (maybe even grandkids) will ask why I have a tattoo of a 58 on my arm?

I’ll show them videos and photos of Marco and say “That’s why kids. That’s Super Sic, he would have been amazing!” Ciao Marco