Oilpressure

Seeing as how this is now the third day of the new year, I am probably one of the last to wish you a Happy New Year!

Our Christmas was a good one and we got plenty of rest and relaxation over the past two weeks I was off. We didn’t travel any, we had a rare trip to the movie theater, we watched a lot of movies at home (as well as football) and we ate very well, as my extra belt-loop this morning indicated.

Like everyone though, I was stunned and saddened this past Friday evening when I got a text saying there were some Brazilian reports that Gil de Ferran had passed away at the age of 56. I immediately went to the internet and saw nothing, giving me slight hope that it wasn’t true. Then about ten minutes later, the reports started flooding in and I had to resign myself to the fact that this terrible news was true.

Accolades have come from across the globe, reaffirming what we already knew about the 2003 Indianapolis 500 winner, and the two-time CART champion. His career achievements have already been recited to us countless times over the past few days. There is not much I can add to that, so I thought I’d share my own thoughts and experiences with de Ferran.

Like many of you, I had never heard of Gil de Ferran until his CART debut in 1995. He was replacing Teo Fabi in Jim Hall’s yellow Pennzoil-sponsored Reynard-Mercedes. Prior to the Indianapolis 500 that season, I never paid much attention to him. All I knew was that he was a Brazilian that had been born in Paris and that he seemed very courteous. I had a bronze badge in 1995 and attended both weekends of Qualifying, as well as the race. I saw de Ferran many times in the garage area and saw how easily he interacted with fans.

About the only thing my then-wife got out of racing, was getting her picture made with well-known drivers and celebrities. When we came across de Ferran in the garage area, I asked if she wanted her picture made with him. She declined, because she knew nothing about him. Her mistake.

After de Ferran got caught up in the Stan Fox accident on the opening lap, he went on to post some decent finishes in the second half of the season. He finished second at Vancouver in the penultimate race of the season, then won the season-finale at Laguna Seca. He finished fourteenth in that rookie year with Jim Hall, but the last few races in 1995 gave us a glimpse of what was to come.

Fast-forward to the end of the 1999 season. Gil de Ferran had been driving for Derrick Walker’s operation for three seasons. He had finished second in points in the 1997 season, but he had carried Walker’s small operation about as far as it could go. It was during this time that I became a real fan of Gil de Ferran. He was so understated and quiet, but his keen dry wit was starting to show in interviews. Plus you could tell how talented he had become behind the wheel.

Roger Penske had also taken note of de Ferran’s ability on the track, as well as how he carried himself out of the cockpit. The Captain signed Gil de Ferran to team with Greg Moore for the 2000 season. The two of them would hopefully carry Penske’s suddenly struggling operation back to the top.

Unfortunately, Moore never drove a race for Penske. He was fatally injured in the 1999 season-finale at Fontana. As fate would have it, Hogan Racing was shutting down and Helio Castroneves was a free-agent. Penske hired the promising young Brazilian to pair with de Ferran, his experienced and more successful fellow countryman.

On the surface, these two shared little common ground, other than their nationality. Castroneves had raw speed, but showed erratic tendencies early on. While de Ferran was fast, he took a much more calculated approach to his racing. Out of the cockpit, Castroneves was very outgoing, while de Ferran had a much more reserved personality – at least compared to the boisterous Castroneves.

Their differences were immediately overlooked however, as these two gelled immediately. In all the years I’ve followed this sport, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen two teammates have such a natural chemistry between them – and I don’t think it had much to do with them both being Brazilian. They just had a bond that was difficult to explain. The only other set of teammates that even approached that level of closeness was the Andretti-Green foursome of Tony Kanaan, Dario Franchitti, Dan Wheldon and Bryan Herta. While they were close friends, I don’t think they shared the same bond that Gil de Ferran and Helio Castroneves had.

Castroneves won three races in the 2000 season, while de Ferran only won two. But de Ferran won the championship on the basis of a very consistent season that also saw him on the podium five other times. Castroneves finished seventh, because aside from his three wins – he never stepped on the podium.

The next season saw de Ferran win the championship again, with two wins on the season, but he was on the podium six more times. Castroneves won three races again that season, but stood on the podium only one other time. That was good enough for a fourth-place finish in the championship, But in addition to Helio’s three CART wins, he won the 2001 Indianapolis 500 – which did not count toward the CART championship. Gil de Ferran finished second in the 500.

By this time, de Ferran and Castroneves had already become great friends, and de Ferran was ecstatic for his teammate winning the 500. Also by this time, Castroneves had already become known for climbing fences after a race win. When Castroneves climbed the fence at Indianapolis for the first time, he had his friend and mentor, de Ferran, join alongside him as they climbed the fence together. The scene was repeated the following year as Castroneves won the Indianapolis 500 back-to-back.

In 2003, the two Penske cars were the class of the field. Castroneves could have won a third consecutive Indianapolis 500, had it not been for a backmarker (AJ Foyt IV) blocking his way, allowing de Ferran to pass him. As in 2001, it was another one-two finish for Marlboro Team Penske – but this time, it was Gil de Ferran drinking the milk.

I was sitting in the Turn One stands that day, as de Ferran struggled to get out of the car in Victory Lane, due to a broken back he had suffered at Phoenix about six weeks earlier. Unlike his teammate, who had unknowingly started a tradition of dumping the milk all over his head – de Ferran stood in his car, savoring every sip of milk he drank. With tears in his eyes, he simply said “I love milk”.

Later that summer, I happened to be present again for his next win – the Firestone Indy 200 at Nashville Superspeedway. They allowed the fans that so desired to cross the track after the race, and join the winner in Victory Lane. I found myself right at the foot of the Victory podium, but this was before the days of the iPhone and I did not care about lugging a camera around. Still, it was a thrill, as this was my very first time to visit a victory celebration. I witnessed a very gracious, yet happy winner that night.

After winning the final race of the season and finishing second in the championship, de Ferran retired from driving. He had a very brief (about four races) career as an IndyCar TV analyst, in the booth with Paul Page. But he was offered a job running BAR-Honda in Formula One and left the booth.

Since 2008, Gil de Ferran had been running de Ferran Motorsports in the American Le Man Series. He announced during the 2009 IndyCar season that he intended to join the series later that season. It didn’t happen, and prior to the 2010 season – de Ferran pooled his resources with Jay Penske’s Luczo Dragon Racing, to form de Ferran Dragon Racing with Rafa Matos as the driver.

By this time, this site was up and running. I was credentialed for my very first race at the inaugural race at Barber in April of 2010. The Media Center was on the second floor of the main building behind the pits in those days, accessed either by a crowded and slow elevator or a narrow spiral staircase. Being much younger then, I tended to run up stairs. On that Friday, Gil de Ferran was coming down the spiral staircase as I was running up it. I rounded a turn and my head went smack-dab into de Ferran’s belly.

I am pretty sure I would not have been very gracious had someone charged into me by needlessly running up a staircase. Gil de Ferran, on the other hand, took it in stride. He asked if I was OK, patted me on the back and said “You must be in a hurry”. That was when I decided that if I ever want to be credentialed again, maybe I had better slow down and be aware of my surroundings.

Three years later, Susan and I went to Fontana for the 2013 season-finale. Gil de Ferran had parted ways with Jay Penske, but had been working with Dallara in the development of the DW12.

Susan and I were invited to attend a hospitality function on Friday night, the night before the Saturday night race. Gil de Ferran had been invited as well in an official capacity. I’m not usually one to go up and strike up a conversation with celebrities, but I found myself standing next to him during the cocktail hour, and he seemed obviously bored. Surprisingly, not everyone knew who he was. I started talking to him and let him know I had been present for his Indianapolis 500 win and his Nashville win later that summer. His face lit up and we started talking racing. He seemed genuinely honored that I knew so much about his career. Susan snapped a photo of us that night in the middle of our conversation.

This was not a thirty-second encounter. I’ll bet we stood there for twenty minutes talking about racing. When it was time to sit down for dinner, he seemed annoyed when one of the event organizers whisked him away from our conversation, to the table for their special guests. I’m not saying it was my company he enjoyed, but I could tell he appreciated talking racing that night with someone who had more than just a casual interest in the sport.

Over the past few years, I would see Gil de Ferran from a distance from time to time – mostly at IMS. He was involved with McLaren when Fernando Alonso was bumped from the 2019 Indianapolis 500 at the last minute. Whenever I would see him, I always took note that what I had grown to respect about him in the late nineties was still true. He was a true gentleman that treated everyone around him with dignity and respect. There are a few racing personalities I’ve come across over the years that present a likeable side to the cameras, but show another side that is far less likeable in-person. That was not the case with Gil de Ferran. What you saw on television was the genuine article.

The racing world lost a true gem on December 29. This was a sudden blow that hit hard. Please keep the family of Gil de Ferran in your prayers. They were as unprepared for this as we were, but it is hitting them even harder.

George Phillips

This entry was posted on January 3, 2024 at 4:01 am and is filed under IndyCar. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.