First up on Sunday was the team picture, like one of those shots of the ‘class of 1955’ or whenever that they take at expensive schools.
The only photos the guys I went to primary school with had taken were on an individual basis with the each of them holding up a card bearing their name and number.
Sunday afternoon sessions are always pretty lackadaisical, it’s as if subconsciously we all know it’s the Lord’s Day and we shouldn’t really be drinking beer and arranging who wins the Derny races.
And it was today that I became aware of another example of Teutonic efficiency; the PA is piped into the toilets, this may be a boon if the good sounds are pumping – all too rare in this town – but it’s a definite pain if it’s the race speaker on a rant about yet another sprint heat.
The chases were brisk but not savage, fast Frenchman and partner, the up and coming Vivien Brisse were well to the fore – more than can be said for the Italians, Masotti and Ciccone.
Their soigneur told me that the three of them had agreed to a ‘no stress in the cabin’ pact for the race.
It sounded like a good idea to me.
Dernys, sprinters, time trials, bad music – but I managed to interview Franco Marvulli.
He’s taken to magic tricks now, cool or a little sad, depending on your viewpoint.
I just can’t help thinking about when he and Bruno Risi used to burn the tracks down – poetry in motion and joyous to behold.
I miss Bruno, and I miss that Franco of old.