I have taken the time to write about this for a reason. Marco Simoncelli died 23 October, 2011 in Sepang…
Marco "Sic" Simoncelli - picture taken from his official Facebook fanpage
His life was the bikes, the beasts, the machines we adore so much. We adore their sound when the engine starts and then when it roars up; we admire their strength and power and last but not least we love to watch their dance on the circuit when riders such as Marco and Valentino Rossi “lead” them. When at the start of the race all riders move to the same rhythm… the most beautiful choreography anyone has ever seen, and I used to be a dancer so I would know.
I fell in love with motorbikes first when my cousin bought his first cross bike, a KTM. We would ride along the fields, enjoying the pain we would get from the bumps and hills. Enjoying it because it is just an amazing feeling, a feeling of freedom that cannot be explained, it can only be experienced.
Years later, practicing for my 50cc licence, a guy took me for a ride with his 125cc Aprilia. The love was discovered again. Love for the feeling you get up there, for the music of the engine…
Then at the age of 15 I started watching MotoGP after discovering the beauty of it at my grandma’s one Sunday afternoon. It was fascinating to watch what these “mental” riders pulled off from week to week. This was the time when I chose my boyfriends by telling them that my only love is a Honda CBR 900RR Fireblade and if their response was: “What?!” I just knew there was no future for us, so I left the scene.
Funnily enough I am married to a man now, who has never sat on a bike before my father took him for a ride weeks before we got married.
The next phase was when on my way to school I discovered a Honda CBR, my dream bike, in front of a house and I would get off the tram five stops early just to take a closer look, to touch it and daydream about how it would be like to have one of these.
As life is very, very humorous, later on I was introduced to a guy who had a CBR and loved motorbikes as my friend knew I was crazy about them as well – in fact, I was called the “biker chic” in high school – and it turned out he owned the very same bike I have been admiring for months. We spent a few years together, wonder why?!
From the age of 18 I would be there at every single motorbike streetfighter show in our town, sometimes travelling even to the other end of the country to see one, or to see exhibits and races, whether they were legal or illegal.
This is the time I met my father (long story but I guess I am not alone so many of you can figure it out easily). We met at one of these shows as it turned out he was in love with bikes as well and had a chopper at the time. I did not quite fancy that, although I was kind of enjoying the ride on it as well. Of course, it had two wheels so why would not I?
Then when we went on holiday with the CBR guy, we left the bike with my dad, who took it for a ride just to check what we liked about it so much. What can I say? He was poisoned…
My father at Hungaroring - picture by XX Ati
Getting closer to the age of 50 did not stop him from buying the beast of the beasts, a Suzuki Hayabusa 1300cc!!! Since then, he has joined a group of “mad maxes” online and we have been going on bike tours around the country and Europe as well to go rafting or just to have a well-deserved pancake after a few-hour ride.
It is a wonderful life. A wonderful, free, fun and stunning life. A way of life or a lifestyle shall I say.
Meanwhile I have “infected” some other people with my love for bikes; I have talked about my experiences and my feelings about the sport and people around me suddenly started buying motorbikes including one of my exes and my stepfather as well.
I once wrote a letter to my cousin about how I felt when on a bike and she said I had never spoken about anything or anyone like this before. I was definitely in love.
But you can suppress love… What it does to you though, you should never experience. Live your dream whatever it may be unless it is something God hates.
While watching MotoGP every week it was on, I went through a lot of emotions: I was happy, screaming at the screen, sweating with anxiety, crying when Valentino led the race all along and then just a few hundred meters before the finish line he crashed…
I had favourites as well: my first was Loris Capirossi, then I discovered Rossi and all the other riders I just forgot. The amazing talent he has! The smoothness with which he easily, seemingly without effort, wins his small battles on the track and his races, of course. Vale was the best then, still is and will always be.
Marco was a second Rossi. He was the next generation, even more daring if possible, a bit more aggressive but definitely talented like no one else. Rossi also recognised and acknowledged this by attending Marco’s races when he was not in the MotoGP category yet.
Everyone liked Marco, everyone thought he was crazy, but in a good way. The mad, Italian rider with the big hair. The young boy wanting what Vale has so badly… And it took his life. No one could have predicted it, no one could have avoided it. I feel for his family and his best friend in MotoGP, Valentino.
Hubby and myself on or wedding - picture by XX Ati
Marco’s death reminds me of an experience we had three years ago. Since I started to go crazy about the sport, I always dreamt of riding a bike in my wedding gown on the big day and it turned out this was something my father wanted as well; so we had the riders we knew from around the country come to our wedding and they took us around the city centre with police escort of course, coz there were so many of us. They had to stop traffic and also, we were not wearing a helmet. It was a blast, the best thing you can do to top up your excitement on this day.
The reception went on, we were going from table to table to talk to everyone and I sensed something was wrong. The bikers were not happy enough. It turned out that one of us (although not riding for several reasons, I am still counted in the biker family which I am grateful for) Dodo died the day before…
He was riding on the motorway and under unknown circumstances, his bike drifted off the road killing him instantly. They did not want to tell me. I felt awful to be happy when I should have been mourning.
Marco’s fatal crash made me rethink why I love the sport so much; my feelings, my passion for it and if anything, it just stirred it up, making it even stronger.
Marco, Dodo, we will see you later, when we are all together and we are going to laugh about it, coz there will be no more pain or tears where we go from here.
viqe
