The dogfight to become F1's first 'Alfa' male

The 'Three Fs' first performed in concert - for a royal audience at Silverstone - on Saturday 13 May 1950. A boy band they were not: their combined age was nudging 135 years. They were replacing a line-up swept away by accidents and illness within 10 months from July 1948: Achille Varzi (aged 43), Jean-Pierre Wimille (40) and Felice Trossi (41). And the car they were driving had first raced in August 1938.

Age was no barrier in this age of no barriers.

Two of the Fs were wealthy, privileged Italians, long on experience but short of temper. The third was an outlier: a humble mechanic from Buenos Aires Province. One of them was well past 50 and his pre-Second World War career had been curtailed by crippling rheumatism. Another had unwisely injured himself - just two months before the inauguration of the Formula 1 world drivers' championship - in a crash during practice for a Formula 2 race of marginal note.

Yet it was the signing of 38-year-old Argentinian Juan Manuel Fangio - the sensation of 1949, and with close family links to the Abruzzo - that was exercising a pressing Italian media the most. His singleton entry for the San Remo Grand Prix - the return of the unbeatable Alfettas following a year's sabbatical in preparation - was at best tough love on Alfa Corse's part.

Fangio arrived at this seaside resort - 25 miles across the Italian border from Monte Carlo and boasting a circuit of similar aspect to that of its more famous neighbour - on the back of a second consecutive Pau GP win aboard a Maserati. Though he had won at San Remo in 1949 too, he was taking little comfort from these breakthrough and confirmatory victories.

Receipt of the offer from Alfa Romeo had been the happiest moment of his life - he likened it to being invited to perform at La Scala (a suitable venue for the Three Fs!) - but already (16 April) it felt like sink or swim. And that was before the heavens opened before the start.

Talk of Alfa's possible withdrawal and threats of legal action by the organisers had marred the build-up; Fangio's presence was confirmed at the last minute. No wonder he felt under pressure and little wonder he muffed his start from the middle of the front row.

Once he settled to the task, however, he picked off the Ferraris of Raymond Sommer, Luigi Villoresi and Alberto Ascari before pacing himself to victory in changeable conditions. He was no longer knocking on the door; he had stepped right in - directly onto the toes of Giuseppe 'Nino' Farina.

Fagioli preferred to park healthy machines rather than acquiesce to team orders. Such intransigence cost him his prime seat at Mercedes-Benz after 1936

The 'Gentleman of Turin' - stylishly elegant but as tough as old boots - was a fearsome competitor in the mould of his mentor Tazio Nuvolari. He had crashed injuriously from his debut event - a hillclimb, as long ago as 1932 - and thereafter carved a win-or-bust reputation. A doctor of political science, he kept his cards close out of the cockpit but was a decisive and effective performer in it, though inclined to gamble.

He knew more than most what to expect of Fangio, having witnessed his progression during the winter-sun Temporada series from 1948-50, and given hellish chase during the 1949 Albi GP. On the latter occasion his Maserati had refused to fire after refuelling and, though he congratulated the victorious Fangio, he proffered the caveat that he hadn't deserved it. Fangio, being Fangio, agreed. Therein lay Farina's greatest advantage: confidence.

That's not to say he lacked speed. Recovered from his injuries, he secured pole position for the Grand Prix of Europe at Silverstone - the four tenths separating him from Fangio being sufficient to allow Luigi 'Gigi' Fagioli (below) to squeeze between them.

The 'Abruzzi Robber' - as tough as his dishevelled appearance suggested - had been a fearsome competitor against the likes of Nuvolari. He too had survived early spills - switching from bikes to cars as long ago as 1925 as a result - and preferred to park healthy machines rather than acquiesce to team orders. Such intransigence cost him his prime seat at Mercedes-Benz after 1936 - as it would for Farina at Alfa Romeo 10 years later.

In possession of an unconvincing accountancy diploma, Fagioli wore his heart on bulging sleeve and muscled rather than coaxed cars, his powers of concentration and stamina formidable: in 1935 he became the first to lead a Monaco GP from start to finish.

His fall from grace, however, was swift and inglorious - he had physically threatened former Mercedes-Benz team-mate Rudolf Caracciola in the aftermath of the 1937 Tripoli GP - and he hobbled from the sport after an inconsistent campaign with Auto Union.

Farina's return had never been in doubt and nor was his determination to prove that he had not lost his best years to the war (though probably he had). Having been the Alfetta's most successful campaigner of 1939 - he also won the 1940 Tripoli GP in one - he would score its first post-war triumph: the 1946 GP of Nations at Geneva. Though he sat out 1947 in a magnificent fit of pique, subsequent performances - victory in Monaco in a Maserati and, at Lake Garda, the first win for a Ferrari single-seater - had by 1948 put him back on the map and in Alfa Romeo's good books.

Fagioli in contrast had made only sporadic and inconclusive post-war appearances in an OSCA sportscar. His fire had been damped and Fangio - or his ghostwriter at least - called him 'the stout-hearted dean of drivers': damned with fulsome praise.

For sure Fagioli's stamina was of a lesser order now - measured consistency would keep him in the 1950 title race until the final round - and he seemed content to play third fiddle.

The same was not true of the mercurial Farina. He shot away from pole at Silverstone and set the race's fastest lap - worth a championship point - on the second lap. Having led the vast majority of the race, he allowed Fagioli to close to within three seconds at the chequered flag (pictured below).

Fangio had led only briefly and been the first to make a mistake - grazing a hay bale - before retiring because of an oil leak. Farina had put down a marker.

Fangio had known what to expect too. He admired Farina's relaxed stance at the wheel - copying it while adding some of Fagioli's brawn - but chafed at his no-prisoners racecraft. (So wary was Fangio that he even refused to passenger with Farina in a road car!)

He had befriended easily Varzi and Wimille - the former enabled Fangio's first European foray; the latter tipped him for greatness - but Farina remained aloof. And that's how Fangio preferred it - at cramped Monaco at least.

Determined to stay out of trouble, he passed the fast-starting Farina on the climb to Casino Square and therefore was ahead of the pile-up at Tabac that eliminated his team-mates before the opening lap was complete. Fangio (pictured below) led throughout and set fastest lap.

Fangio, needing only to finish second to become world champion, let Ascari through, but his understandable caution would go unrewarded when he pitted his smoking Alfa Romeo after 23 laps

Farina, however, was back on top at Bremgarten's Swiss GP and had Fangio in his pocket when the Argentinian retired because of engine trouble. The Italian set fastest lap too - as he would at Spa-Francorchamps.

He and Fangio were inseparable in qualifying for the Belgian GP - Farina awarded pole due to his setting the time first - and they swapped the lead several times, neither able to pull away, until Farina's sagging oil pressure and/or seizing gearbox caused him an extra pitstop that relegated him to fourth place.

Fangio, now five points shy of Farina and one behind Fagioli, was back in the game and daring to believe: "At the bottom of my heart I reproached myself, thinking that my candidature for that first-time world title was conceited. But the small flame of my ambition went on burning."

Perish the thought that Farina's ghostwriter should have written such a thing. Red pen. Stricken through.

The battle continued in the French GP at Reims-Gueux, Fagioli mixing it before fading and Farina holding the upper hand until a fuelling issue delayed and then sidelined him.

Fangio, unwilling to let Fagioli reduce the gap to within 25s in the closing stages, moved ahead in the points. Fagioli handed him the scrap of paper that confirmed it - and Farina's congratulatory wink "that said more than words" affirmed it. The rivalry was red hot but friendships had warmed, without thawing.

Before September's finale at Monza, there waged a (mainly) phoney war of non-championship races. Farina won at Bari after Fangio's car faltered, low on fuel, on the last lap of what had been a demonstration. Fangio won the GP of Nations, a race made real by the presence of Ferrari's gathering unsupercharged threat and the accident that killed three spectators - Farina crashing in avoidance at the scene.

Pescara was another demonstration, with Fangio happy to cede to Fagioli in Farina's absence - despite having been more than 20s faster in practice - only to take victory when Fagioli's front suspension collapsed on the final lap. And the BRDC International Trophy at Silverstone was a thinly veiled sparring session, Farina crossing the line four tenths ahead of Fangio. The edge had generally been held by Fangio in qualifying, but there was little to choose between them in race conditions.

At the Italian GP, however, ran the strong rumour that Farina had been assigned the more powerful car. Fangio qualified on pole but Farina set the race pace, chased by the Ferrari of Alberto Ascari. Fangio, needing only to finish second to become world champion, had let Ascari through. His understandable caution, however, would go unrewarded; he pitted his smoking Alfa Romeo after 23 laps.

There came a glimmer of hope when team-mate Piero Taruffi handed over his car - he and Fangio would have to share any points earned - but 10 laps later it dropped a valve. Farina (pictured below at Silverstone), five years Fangio's senior, had summoned the reserves to become a deserving champion. Fangio, in turn, had driven like the champion he would become.

Their 1951 battle would be more clearly cut - and decided in Fangio's favour. The once-svelte Alfetta, now bulging with fuel tanks due to an excessive thirst, its supercharged 1.5-litre straight-eight boosted to within a psi of its life, demanded an iron fist within a velvet glove that Farina was either unable or unwilling to offer.

Ferrari man Ascari was the championship rival that Fangio had to beat now, and victory in the Barcelona finale allowed him to do just that. His run to the title had included a victory at Reims, shared with Fagioli after Fangio's original car developed a misfire.

Farina would win the 1953 German GP - after Ascari had lost a front wheel while leading - but thereafter his appearances became sporadic and increasingly wild

The ignominy of standing aside, having been overlooked that season in favour of factory tester Consalvo Sanesi, was too much for the oldest winner of a world championship GP: aged 53 years and 22 days, Fagioli walked away - this time without the aid of crutches.

He had one more great drive in him: third overall - ahead of Caracciola! - to win the GT class of the 1952 Mille Miglia in a two-litre Lancia Aurelia B20. Later that month of May, he crashed the same car during practice for the Prix de Monte Carlo. Newspapers ran photos showing him nursing a damaged knee and apparently in recovery, but he would die of his injuries three weeks after the event.

Farina was by this time fuming in Ascari's shadow at Ferrari. He would win the 1953 German GP - after Ascari had lost a front wheel while leading - but thereafter his appearances became sporadic and increasingly wild.

He retired in 1955 - morphine unable to quell the pain of his mounting injuries - but couldn't resist a misguided qualifying bid for the 1956 Indianapolis 500: Ferrari engine/Kurtis chassis was not a happy mix.

Crossing the Alps in the rain en route to the 1966 French GP at Reims, where he was to act as adviser/driver to the film-makers of Grand Prix, Farina lost control of his Ford Lotus Cortina and struck a telegraph pole. The original world champion was dead.

Fangio, a five-time world champion who died, aged 84, of natural causes, had the oldest head on the 'youngest' shoulders. He was not only the fastest of the Three Fs, but also the wisest.

When the war was over

Formula 1 existed before the creation of a world championship for 1950, and was initially called Formula A. That nomenclature was a carryover from the capacity/weight sliding scale for supercharged and normally aspirated GP cars - up to a maximum of 3.0 and 4.5 litres respectively - that in 1938 had replaced the 750kg Formula.

Its 1947 successor reflected thwarted plans to halve the supercharged limit in 1940, and the reality that most racing cars available in the aftermath of the Second World War were either supercharged 1.5-litre voiturettes or 4.5-litre grand prix machinery from the 1930s.

For those capable of taking a longer-term view, F1's future lay with the bike-engined buzzbomb being pushed back to its pit by an Englishman not yet 20

F1 recovered quickly. Racing was held in Paris's Bois de Boulogne within four months of VE Day - Jean-Pierre Wimille, given leave from the Free French Air Force, winning the main event for Bugatti - and spread rapidly across (mainly) France in 1946.

By 1947 the calendar was sufficiently full to warrant awarding the more important national races - the Swiss, Belgian, Italian and French - Grande Epreuve status: an international championship in all but name.

Monaco came and went in 1948, the same year that Belgium skipped and in which Britain arrived to stay. It was in 1948, too, that Formula 1 began its journey into common parlance and Formula 2 - originally known as Formula B - was codified.

Drivers with pre-war experience dominated the scene until motorsport's dispersion into South America unearthed its first post-war hero.

With support from his country's government - a sign that motor racing was on the up-and-up and once again a symbol of national pride and dynamism - Juan Manuel Fangio dipped his toe in European racing in 1948 before making a splash the following season: a wave of victories at San Remo, Pau, Perpignan, Marseilles, Monza (an F2 race but the most competitive and crucial of these wins) and Albi. They were to be the building blocks of a soaring career.

Fangio's last outing before returning home to Argentina to a hero's welcome was the French GP at Reims, where he was scheduled to also contest the F2 support race; he would start both from the front row and lead before retiring because of broken throttle cable and gear lever respectively. No matter, he was accepted widely as F1's future.

For those perspicacious few capable of taking a longer-term view, however, the championship's future lay with the bike-engined buzzbomb being pushed silently for the best part of a mile back to its pit by an Englishman not yet turned 20.

Stirling Moss's Cooper-JAP had failed on this occasion, but this little car - built in a garage in a west London suburb - with its engine sited behind its still amateur driver, was the unlikely blueprint for an increasingly 'British' sport, much of their experience and expertise being gained and honed on converted airfields that also provided a circuit map of the road ahead.