>>The King of Monaco talks about: Money, Power, Sex, Love, Marriage<<
>>"In the paradise of Angra dos Reis, the champion speaks about life, his career, and reveals his most intimate emotions"<<
Even when he is in his private paradise of Angra dos Reis, Ayrton Senna doesn't stop running. Like in this morning jogging, living alongside his ecological passions: the beach, the sea, the sky, and the sun. The rain he leaves for the races, where he is the master of time, wind, storms, and at the very least, drizzling rain. But the point here is not to show Senna as the lord and king of Monaco, a crown assumed last Sunday when he won the Formula 1 Monte Carlo GP for the sixth time, a record that, as he said after the race, "will take a long time to be broken." What MANCHETE shows here is the other side of the biggest idol in today's troubled Brazil, the enfant gâté (spoiled child) of a multinational fanbase that spreads fan clubs around the whole world. In this profile of the super champion, what remains is the exact image of an Ayrton Senna who is highly sensitive to the good and bad things life has given him so far. And, riding the momentum of this exclusive interview, the revelation of his virtues, flaws, thoughts, joys, hurts, sorrows, and a hitherto unknown poetic side.
>>"Whoever lives with danger at every meter of a race has to be a perfectionist and a wild card"<<
>>In his paradise of Angra, he mixes the mind-boggling speed of a jet-ski with the serenity of resting by the sea, reading a magazine on his favorite subject: racing.<<
The sophistication of his beach mansion includes a swimming pool in the entrance hall, which he enjoys sometimes with friends and relatives, sometimes with girlfriends, sometimes alone.
When talking, he does not accelerate. Quite the opposite. He measures his words and lines up sentences weighing the consequences of each one. The good ones and the bad ones. He is public enemy number one of double meanings, because he knows that slipping up in an expression, or in an opinion about whatever it may be, the consequences can be disastrous. That is why Ayrton Senna da Silva, 33, our man on the podium of success, speaks slowly, measuring every adjective, placing commas as if adjusting a valve on his McLaren.
We talked for a long time, witnessed by the crowd that is model Adriana Galisteu, his girlfriend, a sort of queen of perfect pairs (two eyes, two legs, two arms, two breasts... and I think it's a crime she doesn't have two mouths). My late friend Sérgio Porto, Stanislaw Ponte Preta, would say she is a woman for at least two hundred place settings.
Rarely have I seen someone as at peace with life as the Ayrton Senna I met on the eve of embarking for Monaco last week. Let me tell you, before starting this question-and-answer Grand Prix of ours, that he is a shy guy (almost timid), uses few slangs and rare curse words, but has solid concepts about how he should behave in his two lives: the public and the private. He is a good person. As a guy who loves family, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Bach, Vivaldi, Beethoven, Mozart, good women, good friends, as much as he tunes into McLaren, Williams, Ferrari, Benetton, Lotus, airplanes, jet-skis, speedboats, helicopters, anything that flies or whizzes by, or even shoots like an arrow or bullet, because if necessary to be an arrow or bullet to race (his fascination), an arrow or bullet he will be.
I started slowly, letting him take pole position in the chat. And when I asked him if life had already given him everything, he ran over me with what I would call a self-sonnet (and why not, if self-portraits exist?), in which he outlined a (sentimental) profile of himself:
>>"Nature helps me think, analyze mistakes and successes"<<
"A lot is missing. After all, I'm only 33 years old. It's true that I've always had what I wanted in life. And I think that will always be so. At this point I'm privileged. I love my family, I have few but good friends. Anyway, I'm a guy who at least until now got it right. I'm aware of everything surrounding me and I try to keep my feet on the ground. The important thing for a person who lives with fame is to have emotional balance in everything they do. I got used to analyzing every moment of my life, from work to leisure, from family and friends to enjoying nature. It's an unequaled therapy to know how to enjoy it. I learned to live with nature. It is meditating in the open air that I plan my future, analyzing what I did well to try to repeat it and what I did bad to correct. I recycle myself before the earth, the sea, the sun, and the moon, when there is sun and moon."
Pulling from this inner stage, bringing it to the actions and facts of life (as it is). And then, I accelerate:
"Opinions about you are divided: there are those who think you are presumptuous, fake, arrogant, introverted, nice, formal, perfectionist, wild card. Do you see yourself in any of these adjectives?"
"In a little bit of each one," he shoots back, right away, "including wild card. It must be considered that in my profession the risk is high, although calculated, protected by a whole sophisticated technology in terms of safety of the cars and racetracks. The fact is that danger exists and we live with it at every meter of a race. And a guy who knows all this and insists on racing is, among other things, a wild card..."
"Being that you, besides a wild card, are a perfectionist," I provoke. Senna looks fixedly at me for an instant, as if evaluating whether he should or shouldn't answer. He gives the green light:
>>"I am a perfectionist and that is good in a profession like mine"<<
"I am. I think it's my strongest trait. It comes from my nature, from the training I had. I consider the fact that I'm in a profession where at least every two weeks my image is thrown by television inside the homes of millions of people worldwide. And this crowd, mostly, always expects the best, success, victory, boldness, skill. They will always talk about me, well or bad, but they will talk. I think this notoriety needs to be justified, which leads me to want more, every time more. It's the price of fame that I, personally, make a point to pay. And for that I have to be a perfectionist."
I comment that what I see, here as in an Alpha State, in a good mood, not wanting anything better because otherwise it ruins it. He smiles a half-funny laugh, mouth closed and with wrinkled corners, which characterizes his unmistakable introversion:
"I resist bad moments as best I can. The good ones, I enjoy. Like this right here," pointing to the veranda in front of him, leaning on a well-kept lawn that, further ahead, blends with the sand and enters the calm, clean sea of illustrious beaches, "it's the best of nature! It's together with nature that I enjoy my best moments."
He thinks, like someone choosing the exact words:
"In my work, due to the big interests involved, many times there is no loyalty, ethics, limits. You are always exposed to attacks, whether to your physical or moral integrity, whether pure and simple in the field of races. When I make a mistake, for example, and everyone makes mistakes, the repercussion can be bigger than that of a victory."
>>Scenes from the champion's itinerant life: a shave in Tokyo, a relaxing read at his farm in Cascais, and a refreshing shower at the Angra dos Reis mansion.<<
>>"The ideal woman for me has to be a partner in everything, from love to the day-to-day relationship"<<
"The pressure is rigorous, and whoever isn't prepared spins out of control. I take responsibility, I think that's the best way to face the fight..."
"...Is that applicable to your personal life?"
"Yes. And how! I'm a guy sensitive to honesty, sincerity, transparency that must exist in human relationships. Certain things, especially when coming from people you gave full trust to but who didn't know how to use it correctly, bother and hurt. But since there's no way to avoid it, I roll with it. I learned that you only find out what each person really has inside by playing frank and letting life roll."
I follow right on the draft of the conversation:
"And the women? How do they enter these private GPs of yours? Who hits on whom?"
Now he laughs openly, his teeth short and very white showing. He looks at Adriana by his side, who, in a moment of modesty, lowers her eyes:
"It's back and forth," says Ayrton. "I'm conscious of that. As an observer. In the specific case of girls, I date normally. Sometimes I make a move, sometimes they do. It's fascinating, this game of emotional relationships between a man and a woman. I know how to choose my company. At least I think I do."
He looks back at Adriana when I ask him what the woman of his dreams is like:
"She's the one who shares every moment of living together, who is a partner in everything. The physical side, beauty, charm, intelligence, of course all that counts. But deep down, what really strengthens an intimate relationship is the ability of both to add up, in everything and for everything."
He takes a quick pause in the chat box and soon takes off at full speed, without fear of being happy:
"I learned to deal with life, both with race cars, friends, and women. There are those who admire us with sincerity and affection. There are also those who want to take advantage, gain publicity, whatever. But none of that goes unnoticed by me. Sometimes, I pretend I don't understand what's happening and let it slide, to see how far things go."
I ask if he thinks about getting married, when, whether before or after leaving racing. He answers without flinching:
"There is no set date or place. When I have to get married, I will. Racing has nothing to do with it."
Just casually, I ask him about faith, beliefs, and superstitions:
"I believe in God. I have no superstitions, nor a patron saint. Just God."
"You don't use talismans, charms, lucky coins, a four-leaf clover?"
I left out the rue branch behind the ear, because with a helmet it wouldn't fit.
"No, nothing," he retorts. "My luck, in life, I make. And God helps."
"And this fascination with speed? How do you explain it?"
"I think I was born in a rush. And I always live in a rush. When I go swimming, running, sailing, skiing, flying, or competing on the tracks, I immediately accelerate. Speed fascinates me. With me, it started as a hobby and then became work, a passionate work."
"When you aren't in Formula 1, riding a jet-ski, speedboat, plane, helicopter, whatever runs or flies, what do you like to do most? Love? Eating well? Dressing fashionably?"
"Love, always. Food, everyday home cooking. As for clothes, I don't care. I like walking around barefoot when I'm at the beach or at the farm. I love summer, because in winter you have to walk around all bundled up."
"I don't read much, I like music: rock, Brazilian popular, classical. Classical is good to rest the mind. Sometimes I write a few things..."
Faced with this, I jump back into his draft:
"What? Poems? Short stories? Letters?"
>>"In Formula 1, everyone has to learn lessons for themselves"<<
Ayrton thinks for an instant, as if evaluating whether he should or shouldn't continue with the confidence that, involuntarily, he let slip. He decides to move forward:
"Little things, for myself. Just thoughts, usually connected to someone."
Let people connected to the super champion know then: mainly the fine-finished girls who occasionally frequent his privacy, that he takes notes. There must be quite a few stories!
He returns to nature and, when speaking of it, with all certainty visualizes the multiple-choice paradises that Angra dos Reis offers him:
"The good thing is to go to one of those islands over there, lie on the deserted beach with a girlfriend and enjoy the sea, the sun, the sky, have a feeling of life, of peace, of communion with all these beautiful things!"
I bring him back to the tracks, before, with a burst of enthusiasm, he decides to retire like a Robinson Crusoe of racing overalls and helmet:
"What advice would you give a driver starting out in Formula 1?"
"None. It's no use. Everyone has to learn for themselves. No two people are identical. Therefore, each assimilates things in their own way, according to their background. It's in the day-to-day of Formula 1 that newcomers have to look for the best lessons, discover what is good and what is bad for them..."
"...Learning to live with the law of the jungle of racing..."
"It's not quite like that," he retorts. "In Formula 1 there is a lot of pressure, disputes between drivers, mechanics, team bosses, one sponsor against another. It's a different world, where everything has to be right on time and target. But it's a world—in its own way—civilized, modern, requiring intelligence, courage, determination, and refined technical background from all its inhabitants."
"Have you ever thought about moving away from Brazil?"
"Why would I do that? My country is here. When I need to recharge my batteries after a race, when my head starts going crazy and I see I'm going to lose my way, I come running home, to my family, to the beach..."
"...Lately," I comment, "more and more on the world route (anywhere)—Angra dos Reis, via São Paulo..."
>>In recent weekends in Angra, the constant presence of his beloved girlfriend, model Adriana Galisteu, was a second-order matter, a most serious case of love to think about.<<
"My Brazilian businesses are in São Paulo, my leisure, in Rio."
About these businesses, which turn dizzying figures (in dollars), he doesn't like to list them, although he states he knows them well and manages them as far as he has time. Ayrton Senna Promoções e Empreendimentos Limitada, which handles his brand worldwide, occupies five floors in a modern building in São Paulo, where, for now, his helicopter is the only one using the helipad available there. The company has about fifty employees, mostly bilingual (Portuguese and English), and is presided over by his father, Milton Guirado Teodoro da Silva. Ayrton's brother, Leonardo, is responsible for new businesses. And his cousin, Fábio, for international relations. Everything there operates in luxurious and modern facilities, on time and target.
I ask if he has already thought about leaving racing:
"No, it's not time yet. I think I can still compete until around 40 years old. But that doesn't mean I will do so. It's just what I consider viable for a Formula 1 driver."
"Leaving the car, do you close the garage? Leave racing behind?"
He thinks a little and answers:
"In principle, yes. But it's still early to decide. We don't know what might come up."
>>THE MYTH OF THE IDOL: JUAN MANUEL FANGIO, THE CHAMPION OF THE VINTAGE CAR ERA<<
He has an idol: former Argentine driver Juan Manuel Fangio, a legendary Formula 1 champion from the vintage car era.
"A straightforward man, a complete champion, an example for all athletes of all sports."
And, as we said goodbye, he dropped in the air, casually, what I thought was a message for his gratuitous critics:
"I respect people, but I want them to respect me too. I take my profession seriously. I'm in it because I like it. And I try to be the best because that's my duty. I accept compliments and criticism. But everything in moderation. I believe in everyone who performs their profession with love and dedication. That's what I look for. And I think that gives me the right to ask for understanding and respect from people. In my public life and, especially, in my private life."
Hours later Ayrton Senna sped off in his McLaren through the streets of the Principality of Monaco, running like the wind ahead of time, as he likes.
>>THE DAY SENNA BECAME THE KING OF MONACO<<
>>On the Monte Carlo podium this year, a veteran user of success: Ayrton Senna, six-time winner. In supporting roles, two newcomers: Jean Alesi, from Ferrari, and Damon Hill, from Williams.<<
>>On the Monaco tracks, accompanied by his girlfriend, Adriane Galisteu. The relationship—now public—brings good luck. Adriane also won in Interlagos.<<
>>On pole position definition day, a gloomy Frank Williams, next to Prost, seemed to anticipate what was going to happen. He feared, as always, Senna.<<
The weather was good, clear and firm. An environment 100% favorable to the Williams cars, although on a circuit like Monte Carlo—extremely tight—the skill of the drivers is worth more than engine power.
A week ago, in Brazil, when I conducted a long interview with him, Ayrton Senna confided to me that the Monaco GP depended much more on patience than on speed. And he almost predicted what days later would happen on the streets of Monte Carlo:
"It is indisputable that the Williams are superior. Therefore I have to race expecting an eventual mistake from their drivers."
Not that he knew the Williams drivers would mess up (which can be a motorsport variation for making a blunder in soccer). He didn't know, but he hoped so. And the fact is that Alain Prost, penalized for a jump start (he went on the red light) and unlucky with two engine stalls when serving his ten-second pit penalty, was practically out of the race. And his teammate Damon Hill, besides the most varied racing incidents, was a rookie in the complicated Monaco GP, where Senna was thrashing him with a know-how of 5 wins to 0.
That left Michael Schumacher. But about him Senna already had a formed opinion:
"He pushes too hard. And that in Monte Carlo is dangerous."
It was spot on: Schumacher—which means "shoemaker" in German—floored it and blew his engine.
These racing tricks are what make Ayrton Senna the super champion he is. So much so that even before winning last Sunday, he was already much more Mister (Monaco) than the late Englishman Graham Hill. Senna claimed what I will call a real five-time consecutive win streak, all in a row, one year after another: 87 (Lotus), 89 (McLaren), 90 (McLaren), 91 (McLaren), and 92 (McLaren). Noting that in 88 he lost off the track when race director Jacky Ickx, a former F1 driver, ended the race early (due to a storm) favoring his compatriot Alain Prost, who could not withstand Senna's onslaught as he flew at 1,000 miles per hour on the track. In Hill's five wins, the podium was split between a three-peat (63, 64, 65) and a two-peat (68, 69). Senna, therefore, had more skin in the game. And his sixth win sounded like a resounding shout before a possibly bored Prince Rainier, faced with so little variation on his podium: in sixteen years of the GP, attended by only Senna (6), Hill (5), and Prost (4).
>>ADRIANE, THE GOOD-LUCK GIRLFRIEND WHO BITES HER NAILS<<
This year, Senna had an additional reason to win. He couldn't embarrass himself in front of his girlfriend, model Adriane Galisteu, whom he took to Monte Carlo to see "what the most charming GP in the world was like". Adriane bit all ten nails during the 78 laps of the race. But in the end, between a kiss of victory and another, she confessed: "It was worth it!" Back in Interlagos, at the beginning of the season, she had given her first nibbles. Given that, if she continues to visit the McLaren pit box for the rest of the championship, she will have to wear fake nails...
When saying goodbye to Ayrton Senna at the victory party on Sunday night in Monte Carlo, Prince Rainier must have said:
"So, see you next year on the podium."
The Prince knows things...
Brazilian magazine MANCHETE, 1993
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