Memories of the year: Meeting Simoncelli

A cold and blustery September day in Cumbria may be instantly forgettable in normal circumstances, but it was in Penrith - or more specifically in a disused section of airfield in Penrith, and under a sheet of hazy rain - that I met Marco Simoncelli.

My brother, having worked in MotoGP for the past two seasons, had given me a few pointers if I needed to break the ice, but I never had the cause to use them. Simoncelli came across exactly as he had on television - warm, entertaining, charismatic and open, happy to talk and to answer questions.

A disclaimer: I had been a Simoncelli fan, but I won't exaggerate and say he was one of my heroes - at least not before I met him. Still, he had been making waves in MotoGP and was often the centre of attention, whether due to his on-track performances - carrying the fight to the established big guns - or his off-track exuberance, and I had been excited to meet him.

More than anything, what came across was a simple, unadulterated love for the sport in which he was making his name. Flanked by his father and girlfriend, and numbed by the misty cold, it is easy to imagine that, after a few hours of TV and sponsor duties, there were other places he would rather have been.

Simoncelli was let loose in the Fiesta WRC car, with Mikko Hirvonen © LAT

Instead, when we huddled round a table to talk to him, he was enthusiastic and engaging, a wide smile playing across his face when, at the interview's close, he was asked whether Sideshow Bob from the Simpsons was the inspiration behind his hair. "Ahh, a lot of people say this," came the chuckled response. "He's not an inspiration, but I like, I like."

Thirty-three days later I was covering the MotoGP race in Sepang in which Simoncelli lost his life. Those watching, as I was, will remember the shock and dread of seeing the accident, and the fear that we were simply waiting, powerlessly, for the inevitable.

Out of the immense sadness and desolation following his death, the words and responses of his family and friends were a tribute not only to Marco's standing in the motor racing community, but also to his upbringing, to the environment in which he was raised and moulded.

"They say God summons the best to heaven," his father Paolo said just two days after saying goodbye to his 24-year-old son. "I don't know. I wish that's how it is."

"We just helped him do what he enjoyed most," his mother Rossella said with the same awe-inspiring dignity and courage. "Life, if you don't do what makes you happy, becomes full of regrets, and he certainly didn't have any regrets."

I hope never to forget such sentiments, or the courage needed to issue them. In Paolo's and Rossella's unquestioning love comes the best tribute possible to the man known as Super Sic. It was an honour to have met him.

Read more of AUTOSPORT's Memories of the Year including the retirement of one of the greats of the sport, and the ultimate car swap.