Roberto Nosetto's office is Italian-modern. One filing cabinet - black. One desk - no drawers. Carpet - beige. Six hanging pictures - all racing Ferraris, all frameless, all glass covered. And Nosetto himself is Italian chic. Always in green, always with big-cuffed trousers and small-collared shirts.
Jody Scheckter is in baggy corduroys and hand-out Ferrari jacket. About the classiest side of his act is his briefcase, and this he always tells you about. It has these great twin combination locks, with special compartments for all his credit cards - and it has zipped-up pockets in the back. A work of art, Scheckter calls it.
Gilles Villeneuve doesn't carry a briefcase. Instead he whips on the handbrake of his Ferrari 308 GTB and does a Waldegaard turn into the parking lot. He steps quietly out of the red car and suppresses a smile as he opens Nosetto's door. "Three and a half hours from Nice,'' he declares. "What kept you?" asks Scheckter.