Читать книгу Foggy: The Championship Years - Carl Fogarty - Страница 8
ОглавлениеI don’t know where Joey Dunlop popped up from. Earlier that weekend my mates had to take him to hospital after he crashed in qualifying.
A whole squad of guys from Blackburn – I nicknamed them the Ant Hill Mob after the Whacky Races cartoon characters – had travelled down to Sicily, some in the back of the van and a few more in an old Jaguar owned by the guy who ran the local nightclub, to support me. Early in the race I was battling with an Italian on a factory Bimota, Gianluca Galasso, but when he broke down I was out on my own.
You could just about do the race on one full tank but, with just a few more miles left to complete, the bike started to cut out. So I dived into the pit-lane and the crowd went ballistic as this suddenly made the race much more interesting. Needless to say, the Ant Hill Mob weren’t ready so we just poured the petrol – just enough so that I could make the final lap. I shouted at them to push me back out and luckily I made it round and won the race. That left me at the top of the world championship standings with one round remaining at Donington – and fifth place there was enough to win my first world championship.
My mechanic Lou Durkin, in the best pit-lane attire, frantically pushing me back out for that final lap
The day was red hot and I was sweating like a racehorse on the podium. I was not even wearing a vest under my leathers it was so hot. All I needed to do now was keep an eye out for the Mafia after beating the local favourite!
Punching the air as I crossed the line.
