The original F1 maestro who set the bar for Schumacher and Hamilton

The brown of the facsimile helmet wasn’t dark enough, but never mind: the pole position trophy won by Valtteri Bottas in Mexico was something to savour, and Valtteri – the epitome of Finnish calm – had a crack in his voice as he accepted it from Jackie Stewart. The power of Juan Manuel Fangio endures, and always will.

“The greatest racing driver who ever lived,” commented JYS, and many would concur. Once, at Interlagos, I saw him tap Senna on the shoulder, and Ayrton – momentarily annoyed – swung round, then saw who it was and, tears glistening, put his arms round the old man who was his earthly god.

I first met Fangio at Monaco in 1971, on the morning after the grand prix. Outside Rampoldi’s, a lovely old restaurant on the run down from Casino Square, there seemed to be a lot of activity, and I wandered in to take a look.

The place was packed with movie people, and in their midst, sitting quietly at a table, was the great Juan Manuel. With knives, forks and model cars, he was fighting old battles again, this for a forthcoming biopic. I was transfixed, and he must have noticed, for when there was a break in shooting, he beckoned me over.

Who – me? After regaining the gift of speech, I told him I was a journalist, new to this business, and later, before shaking hands, we exchanged cards. Thereafter, remarkably, he invariably remembered my name, albeit with a Spanish twist – ‘Niguel’. I swooned out of Rampoldi’s on a cloud.

Valtteri Bottas and Sir Jackie Stewart with the Fangio Award at the 2021 Mexican GP

Photo by: Steve Etherington / Motorsport Images

Although I encountered Fangio many times over the years, only once did I interview him. In June 1979 he came to England to drive a Mercedes-Benz W125 in the Gunnar Nilsson Memorial meeting at Donington Park, and on the Saturday morning we met at the legendary Steering Wheel Club in Curzon Street.

As always, the quiet maestro – now 68 – was utterly charming, first of all introducing me to our interpreter, a Spanish lady. She was extremely attractive, and clearly this had not escaped him. Very amusing, too, as it turned out, and well able to do justice to the nuances of his anecdotes.

At one point I said something about team-mates, about the games played by drivers to get preferential treatment, and Fangio cackled with laughter. Nothing new under the sun.

“At Monza in 1953, my Maserati had a terrible vibration all through practice, and it could not be cured. Every team I drove for, you know, I made sure of having the mechanics on my side – anything I win, you guys get 10%.

"I had a strange feeling after that race – I had never driven like that before, and knew I never would again." Juan Manuel Fangio on the 1957 German GP

“The night before the race I complained again about the vibration – and on Sunday it was miraculously cured, and I won! I’ve no idea how they solved the problem,” he said, eyes twinkling, “but I remember that during the race [Felice] Bonetto’s teeth fell out…”

Every great driver has his other-worldly day of days, and Fangio’s came appropriately at the Nurburgring in 1957. Following a long pitstop, his chase of the Ferraris of Mike Hawthorn and Peter Collins – in the course of which he lowered his own lap record by 24 seconds – has gone into legend. If it were the greatest drive of his life, so it follows that there has been none better, nor ever will be.

Race of my life: Juan Manuel Fangio on the 1957 German GP

Fangio's remarkable comeback win at the Nurburgring in 1957 is often cited as one of the greatest drives of all time

Photo by: Motorsport Images

More than anything he remembered the day with relief. “Even now, talking to you over 20 years later, I can feel fear when I think of that race. More than any other circuit, I loved the Nurburgring, and I believe that day I conquered it – but on another day, maybe it would have conquered me. The next year, Collins died there...

“I had a strange feeling after that race – I had never driven like that before, and knew I never would again. My Maserati was not very powerful, but it was a beautiful car to drive, and I felt I could make it do anything. Everybody has always said it was my best race, and they are right.”

And his hardest? Juan Manuel rolled his eyes: “Oh, the Argentine Grand Prix in 1955, because the heat was so bad – there were drivers pulling out of the race, collapsing. I felt as bad as they did, but got through it by imagining I was waist-deep in snow...”

PLUS: How Rosberg helped Hamilton equal Fangio

It was at the end of 1957 that Fangio, world champion for the fifth time, decided to stop. “I was 46, and very tired after all those years of racing and travelling. I loved my years as a grand prix driver, but did not miss it afterwards, because there had been great sacrifices – necessary, to stay on top, but sacrifices nevertheless.

“During my time around 30 drivers died. While I did not allow that to influence me, my sadness deepened every time. Racing is beautiful when you are full of enthusiasm, but when it becomes work you should stop. By the end of 1957 it was becoming work...”

Twenty-four hours after our meeting, he drove the Mercedes at Donington. When he came out of the chicane on his first lap – unfamiliar with the car, and its 5.6-litre engine – he dabbed the throttle a little too early.

Out the tail flicked, and momentarily we held our breath, fearful that he was about to look foolish. We needn’t have worried. Before you could blink, the slide had been checked, and the power was on again. Close by me on the pitwall, Dan Gurney and Mario Andretti whooped like schoolboys. The great man still had it.

Fangio never lost his remarkable car control, displayed here on his way to victory in the 1957 French GP

Photo by: Michael Tee / Motorsport Images

He had raced for the last time at Reims in 1958, primarily as a favour to the Maserati people, of whom he was very fond.

“I had plenty of time to think in that race, because Reims was mainly straights, and I thought about my career – how I had come to Europe originally for just one year, never expecting to win a race, and in the end I stayed 10 years, and won five world championships!

“Now, though, I wondered what I was doing here, and knew then it was time for the rest of my life. And you know, when I stopped racing, I was made President of Mercedes-Benz Argentina – me a lad from a little town...”

A colossus of a driver; a modest and enchanting gentleman.

Fangio scored his fifth and final world championship in 1957 with the Maserati 250F, winning four times including at Monaco

Photo by: Motorsport Images