MotoGP legends collide: When Rossi met Surtees

Back in 2003, F1 Racing arranged a rather special get-together between two motorsport legends. John Surtees was an established 'great', thanks to his unique achievement of becoming world champion on two and four wheels. Valentino Rossi, then very much The Man in MotoGP, was being spoken of as a possible future star of Formula 1.

Fate carried Rossi away from single-seaters, despite his test for Ferrari in 2006, but when these two met, there seemed every chance that he might become Surtees' spiritual successor.

It was no surprise that they found plenty to talk about...

"So," says Rossi, in his heavily Italian-accented English, "how many bike titles did you win?"

"Seven," says Surtees, "between 1956 and '60."

"And how old were you," says Rossi, "when you switched to cars, to Formula 1?"

"Twenty-six," says Surtees. "I drove my first season for Lotus in 1960."

"Oh," says Rossi, helplessly surrendering to a bemused smile.

"It's your turn to do it now!" says Surtees, beaming with mischief as he tweaks Valentino's tail.

Until this moment, I had never heard a penny drop, but now I know what it sounds like. It's an "oh" spoken by a young Italian male who, while safe in the knowledge that he's the dog's bollocks in MotoGP, has just realised that the slightly shorter, white-haired senior citizen standing next to him was just as much a motorcycling superstar in his day and went on to achieve something that Rossi has only just begun to think about.

Rossi, in fact, is looking ever-so-slightly gobsmacked. He knew that someone called John Surtees was the only man to win world titles on two wheels and four, but only here, now, in the lobby of London's Landmark Hotel, has he realised that the name in the history books is a real bloke.

A bloke, moreover, so unaffected by ego that he's properly excited about meeting a 24-year-old sports-legend-in-the-making: "I haven't come for the interview," says Surtees. "I want to meet Rossi!"

We've brought them together on the pretext that Rossi might just be in a position to make the leap to cars that Surtees made so successfully four decades ago when he traded his saddle for tests with Vanwall and Aston Martin, before settling into a four-wheeled career in a Lotus 18.

You'd be forgiven for thinking that the dictates of 21st-century sport would prevent bikes and cars from ever again getting close enough to allow one of their gladiators to switch arenas. But talents such as Surtees and Mike 'the bike' Hailwood set a clear precedent in their respective decades - and there's also the small matter of Bernie Ecclestone having already put on record his desire to bring Rossi's fireworks to F1.

Then there's the useful coincidence of Rossi's works ride - a Honda RC211V (990cc, five cylinders, four-stroke) - being built by the same company that makes the engine in the back of the BAR 005 chassis. This link has already been spotted by BAR team principal David Richards, who has hinted at how glad he would be to offer up one of his team's cars to give Valentino a test run.

A tantalising prospect, no? One that must somehow be made to happen - not only to satisfy the romantic in motorsport fans everywhere, but also to evaluate Rossi's box-office potential for the approaching post-Schumacher F1 era.

But let's put questions of cash and Rossi's commercial appeal to one side for now and focus instead on the common ground shared by these two throttle jockeys.

Much unites them: talent, obviously, passionate enthusiasm for their sport, which becomes apparent the longer they talk, and multiple world titles.

Their bike achievements are remarkably comparable but between them lie two generations, and they are worlds apart in style. Rossi has arrived in a gold lame parka, Surtees in a restrained blue wool jacket; Rossi sports pneumatic trainers, Surtees calm black leather slip-ons; Rossi has face-fuzz; Surtees is (of course) clean-shaven.

We wonder, for a moment, if these two will have anything in common. What will they talk about? Everything!

Surtees takes the early lead as Rossi listens over cappuccino and biscotti. He picks at the callouses on his throttle hand, fiddles with his earring.

We appear to be witnessing the older generation imparting knowledge to the whippersnapper as Surtees, 69, declaims on the merits of bike racing for mastering the delicate art of throttle control: "I think the way F1 is now, a rider coming to a car would not have to translate the same degree of sensitivity from his right hand to his right foot, because traction control covers up so many mistakes - until next season, at least!"

There's an exclamatory note in Surtees' voice as he relishes a return to what he calls "proper throttle control" from the start of '04 - but not just for nostalgia's sake: "If Valentino wants to make the switch, that would be the perfect time for him to do it.

"I think any top motorcyclist who was able to handle the car could even find himself with an advantage because he would be very conscious of the way you put power down and balance that against grip.

"When I was riding I was always quick in the wet, because delicacy with the throttle was one of my strengths, but I also found straight away that I was quick in cars in the wet, too. The demands were the same."

Surtees is enjoying this, holding court in front of a captive audience. But it isn't one-way traffic. Rossi has a keen ear for his master's voice, and when Surtees starts talking about how essential it is for a rider to have an instinctive, intuitive relationship with his machine ("You have to be able to act and react almost before you think"), Rossi engages gear.

His thoughts turn to the two-stroke Honda NSR500 on which he won his 500cc world title in '01 aged just 22: "I did have a very special relationship with that bike. She [always 'she'] was a very special bike. She was more nervous than the four-stroke we have now, but, you know, she, ah... she pushes back at you, you know?"

Rossi beams as his gangly frame shifts from side to side, animating his passion with exaggerated arm movements.

His enthusiasm adds to the bonhomie, and Surtees catches the sentiment: "It's like the difference between a real racehorse and a steeplechaser," he continues, "or maybe between an F1 car and a sportscar."

He's talking about thoroughbreds, and it's fascinating to observe how little things change in the pursuit of perfection.

Surtees remembers when he drove for Honda in 1967 and '68, how the first engines they produced were borderline undriveable as flexibility had been slaughtered on the altar of power. With time, and Surtees' renowned technical and developmental expertise, Honda engineers learned that all the power in the world was no use if a driver, even a supremely talented and sensitive one, was unable to access it.

And so, in spades, for Rossi, some three-and-a-half decades later. The 500cc two-stroke unit that gave mighty grunt to his championship charge in 2001 was notoriously peaky and would have caused even the most benign chassis to twitch and snake.

Rossi, though, a youth blessed with an ability to stretch the envelope of his machinery as if it were made of bubblegum, mastered his wayward iron horse. Decades apart, these two, but with parallel abilities.

What separates them is that one has proved to himself (and the world) his absolute ability in the two purest forms of motorsport. The other, while unquestionably great in his chosen field, has yet to explore pastures new.

He admits as much, too: "What John did was something very special, I think. I don't know if I can do it. I like very much driving the cars - I started in karts before I rode bikes - but Formula 1 is different."

Rossi is being a little modest here, it must be said. He's a massive fan of rallying, and he competed in last year's Rally GB in a privately entered Peugeot 206 WRC. His run was brief and relatively inglorious, yet it demonstrated not only his exceptional car control but also his desire and intent to succeed on four wheels - a need, indeed, to find a new challenge.

Surtees knows all about this restless compulsion. When he finally hung up his competition leathers, there was little left for him to achieve on bikes. In addition to his seven world titles, across the 350cc and 500cc categories, he managed to squeeze in six wins in the Isle of Man TT.

But far from being jealously protective of his unique record (the F1 scorecard reads: one world drivers' title; six GP wins; 11 fastest laps and eight poles), he's itching for someone - someone worthy, like Rossi - to take it on.

"He's the perfect age to do it. People are like an engine, you know, with power and torque curves - except that humans have performance and experience curves. Where they overlap, you're at your very peak.

"I remember feeling it myself, and I think Valentino still has that to come. He's plenty young enough to gain lots more experience while his performance curve is still going up."

As they relax into conversation, Surtees slips suddenly into extremely fluent-sounding Italian, remembered from his Ferrari years of 1963-66. I can't vouch for what he's saying, but from his hand movements and Rossi's engaged, flattered reaction, I guess he's explaining that he thinks Valentino is the real deal - and still improving.

"Is nice what John says, you know, and for sure I would like to drive a Formula 1 car on the limit, but it's not possible when I ride bikes full-time. Maybe we can think about it in two or three years."

If that all sounds a little casual, consider that Rossi is one of those rare creatures who's so quick, so talented, that being ultra-fast and out there, skittering skim-footed around the limit, is the only kind of world where everything makes sense.

That being so, there's no way he could imagine ever not competing against - and beating - the very quickest. From MotoGP to F1 would be a natural progression and, unlike those less blessed, he doesn't need a surfeit of ambition to get him there. Ability can carry him all the way.

There's an echo here of a younger Michael Schumacher, speaking about how he never set his heart on the world championship ("I thought I would be a mechanic") and never understood the importance of Ferrari when he first rolled up at Maranello.

He got to where F1 needed him to be simply because from the very first, he was so deliriously fast in a racing car.

How long till the Scuderia calls?