During my teenage years, one of my favorite activities to do with my dad wasn’t playing soccer or going fishing; it was visiting junkyards. All those happy Saturday afternoons spent running around old, rusted cars helped forge the love I feel for obsolete machinery.
Casa Eco, the most traditional junk yard in my hometown, in Brazil.
In those years, it was easy to come across some interesting cars and bikes from the 1930s, all the way to the 1960s. There is something magical about a car that was discarded but still holds the noble mission of supplying parts that will keep another “sibling” car alive.
Slowly, the cool cars faded from the junkyards, and those places lost their magic, but some of them still hold on to symbols of a more romantic past.
As a parts guy, junkyards are still part of my life, not in a fun way, though. A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to find some affordable parts for a used car that came as a trade-in here at the dealer, and I found Jasper Auto Parts, one of the most traditional recyclers in Edmonton.
Jasper Auto and Truck Parts was founded in 1946. Harry Cohen started it in downtown Edmonton, and today it operates as a major family-owned auto recycler at 5410 76 Ave NW.
On their Google page, I found these two super cool pictures. The first one shows two family members posing in front of the business. Those 1920s/30s cars were certainly destined to be scrapped.
The second pic shows a second-gen Camaro that, after retiring from the race tracks, now sits atop a sea can as a proud display of its glorious past.
I believe the pictures deserve a post here at TCM; I had to share them with you, regular readers of the blog. I hope you enjoyed this edition of The Picture of the Day, and I will see you next time.
I always try to keep at least one famous quote at hand. It is kind of satisfying when the opportunity to say something smart comes and you are prepared. Even if it is a borrowed wisdom.
For a while, I have been keeping this quote in mind. Some of you might say it comes from Dr. Seuss, but it does not.
The quote is from Mr. Bernard M. Baruch. He was an American financier who amassed a fortune on the New York Stock Exchange. He impressed President Woodrow Wilson by managing the nation’s economic mobilization in World War I as chairman of the War Industries Board. Also, he advised Wilson during the Paris Peace Conference. He made another fortune in the postwar bull market but foresaw the Wall Street crash and sold out well in advance.
I must admit I don’t feel comfortable quoting a guy who made a huge fortune gambling on the stock market during those years. He obviously had a lot of insider info. I wish this quote were from Dr. Seuss.
” Be who you are and say what you feel becausethose who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.“
Now that I am really paying attention to the phrase, I realize it might sound powerful and wise, but it doesn’t make much sense. Try being who you are and saying what you want to your boss, and let’s see how that works for you. Whether you like it or not, your boss does matter in your life, and chances are he (or she) will mind what you have to say.
Four years ago, I wrote a post praising the Argentine victory at the 2022 World Cup in Qatar. I wrote it with a heavy heart after my Brazilian team had failed once again to reach the final.
For many Brazilians, it was a bitter pill to swallow to see the Argentines win their third World Cup. The rivalry between the two countries is fierce in almost everything, especially soccer. But I accepted the fact that they were a good team, strong and consistent, and our team was sloppy and had no pride. In the end, I was happy to see the cup coming to South America one more time.
The 2026 FIFA World Cup was jointly hosted by three countries: Canada, Mexico, and the United States. The tournament was held across 16 cities. The hosts went above and beyond to deliver a magnificent party for fans from around the world.
In tears, Neymar bids farewell to the Brazilian fans. He finished his international career without ever winning a World Cup.
Sports fans are a very peculiar bunch. Even when we know our team doesn’t stand a chance, deep down in our hearts, we hope a miracle might happen, and that lousy bunch of players will somehow come together and fight their way to glory. Yes, that is how I felt about Brazil in every World Cup since 2002, when the team won their last trophy. The Brazilian team’s performance in 2026 was even more shameful than in 2022, but this was business as usual. We have to accept it.
What actually did surprise me was the level of corruption this tournament was wrapped in.
We all know FIFA, the organization that manages soccer (or football) around the globe, operates a corrupt system, but what happened in 2026 was beyond that. It all started in December 2025 when FIFA suddenly created its own peace prize and awarded Donald Trump after the American president failed to win the “real” Nobel Peace Prize. (pictured above).
Some viewed it as a serious violation of FIFA’s mandatory political neutrality, while others saw it as a foolish stunt designed to flatter a president who behaves like an 8-year-old spoiled brat.
But the friendly relationship between the American president and the FIFA boss Gianni Infantino wouldn’t stop there.
During the game USA vs. Bosnia and Herzegovina, the American striker Folarin Balogun (pictured above) received a red card, which would automatically suspend him for the next game against Belgium.
But Trump acted quickly and decisively. He called his friend Infantino and asked him to “review” the situation. A couple of hours later, the red card suspension was delayed for one year, clearing Balogun to play the next game.
This was a flagrant, in-your-face case of corruption that disgusted the entire international soccer community. The backlash was considerable; UEFA, the European soccer governing body, strongly criticized the move, saying FIFA “crossed a red line” and risked the game’s integrity. The Norwegian Football Federation announced plans to bring a formal complaint to FIFA’s Ethics Committee regarding the decision.
The Belgian team celebrates their victory over the Americans, mocking President Trump dancing.
On July 6, 2026, the Belgium team moved into the quarterfinals after a decisive 4-1 victory over the USA, knocking the Americans out of the tournament. For many, including myself, this game was one of the highlights of the World Cup.
Folarin Balogun had little to no impact during the game, raising suspicion that his below-average performance was intentional as a form of silent protest against FIFA bending the rules.
The most corrupted World Cup ever
The 2026 World Cup was designed to make Argentina win its fourth trophy.
Since the first day of the tournament, if you looked for news about the games, you would see pictures of Leonel Messi in nine out of ten first articles. It was as if he were the only superstar of the event.
It was clear that the Argentine team this year was much weaker than the 2022 team. They only made it to the final with a lot of help from the referees. They played dirty in every single game— even slapping and punching an Egyptian player twice during the game. One of these incidents was directly in front of the linesman (picture above). This is a straightforward red card offense every day of the week. In the age of VAR, the referees saw it but chose not to act.
But one must ask: “Why Argentina?”.
Well, in my opinion, the reason was political. The Trump administration pushed nearly every country on the planet around, with a few exceptions. And yes, Argentina is one of those exceptions. The president of Argentina, Javier Milei, is a right-wing politician and a fervent Trump supporter. His country has already received generous financial support from the USA, so why not a little help to win the World Cup?
Fernan Torres
Of course, everything I am saying here is speculation. I might be wrong.
But if you watched the final game, between Spain and Argentina, you might agree with me.
The Spaniards dominated the game, playing a technical and yet beautiful football. On the other hand, the Argentines played their dirtiest game in the tournament. During the 90-minute game, they were not able to kick the ball once toward the goal. Instead, they tried to break Spain’s dominance by playing the game they knew best: punching, kicking, and grabbing opponents. Argentina racked up 24 fouls and 5 yellow cards during regular and extra time, compared to zero cards for Spain.
The Spaniards played like gentlemen, never resorting to violence, and they never lost their balance, not even when the referee disallowed not one but two Spanish goals.
But the Argentines were not done embarrassing themselves.
Immediately following the final whistle of Spain’s 1-0 victory, a mass brawl erupted. Leandro Paredes (pictured above) and other Argentine players physically attacked some Spanish substitutes, including shoving Gavi and confronting Eric García. It was a gross display of savagery, typical of street thugs, not international athletes.
But wait, there is more.
As a good gesture, showing decent sportsmanship and respect to the winners, the Argentina players, after receiving their silver medals, should have watched the Spaniards receiving their gold medal
Instead, Lionel Messi and most of the Argentina squad walked away and faced their own supporters. On top of that, Spain had earlier formed a guard of honor to applaud the Argentine players as they collected their medals, a gesture that the sore losers did not reciprocate.
And since we are talking about embarrassment, let’s not forget Donald Trump refusing to leave the stage for the official photo of the champions. Hilarious.
Yes, we can do more than just play hockey.
But beyond all the ugliness we witnessed and the damage done to sport, the 2026 World Cup provided some unforgettable moments. My second-favorite team, Canada, finished 14th, a huge improvement from 31st in 2022.
We will never forget the passionate Norwegian fans doing the “Viking Row” in support of their squad.
Ferran Torres scored Spain’s goal that brought the trophy home.
And we also won’t forget the beautiful football played by all the African teams, France, England, and others. In the end, the best team won the trophy fair and square. Spain scored its second World Cup; the first one was in 2010.
Football once again proved bigger than the corrupt FIFA.
The never ending amazement
As I write these final lines, a few things are still happening regarding the 2026 World Cup.
* The frustrated Argentine fans started an online petition on Change.org, asking FIFA for a rematch. They complain that the referee treated their team unfairly. They already got over 100.000 signatures. The Argentine Football Association does not support the petition.
* On the other hand, football fans from all over the globe are signing another online petition, this one demanding that Argentina’s national team be permanently banned from the World Cup. ArgentinaOut.com is now closed after gathering more than 23 million signatures.
* FIFA has opened disciplinary proceedings against several Argentine players and staff, including Leandro Paredes, Nahuel Molina, and assistant coach Roberto Ayala, following post-match brawls.
* The Argentine Football Association has been charged under Article 13 for displaying a “Las Malvinas son Argentinas” banner after the semi-final win against England. In reference to the 1982 Falklands war.
I don’t think Argentina will be banned for future World Cups, but it would be nice to hold some of the perpetrators accountable. Then again, I am not holding my breath.
We are living in strange and perilous times. The usual balance of power between Eastern and Western civilizations has changed, and the line dividing the bad guys from the good guys is becoming blurry.
In June 2025, Ukraine launched a massive drone attack against Russian air bases. The operation was called “Spiderweb.”
Mr. Putin launched Russia into a bloody war when he cowardly invaded Ukraine four years ago, demonstrating to the world that the bad guys are getting even worse. Meanwhile, the USA, under the Trump administration, became an unreliable partner that leverages its economic and military power to bully both allies and non-allies around the globe.
In this scenario, the middle and small powers have no choice but to arm themselves.
Canada is in a very delicate political and geographic situation. Russia is a stone’s throw away. The country has been our “enemy” since the early stages of the Cold War, and after the aggression against Ukraine, we don’t know which country Putin will try to invade next. Although Russia’s military capabilities are at their limit, we should remain vigilant at all times.
Down south, the situation continues to worsen. Donald J. Trump keeps threatening to annex Canada and turn it into the 51st U.S. state. The American government says they will break Canada’s resistance, weakening our financial system. When asked if a military invasion is an option, they refused to rule it out.
In this critical situation, the newly elected prime minister, Mark Carney, announced a significant increase in military spending. He assured the country would finally meet NATO’s spending requirement of 2% of the nation’s GDP.
Several M113 Light Armored Vehicles were acquired from the USA in the early 1960s, and they remain in active service with the Canadian Army.
It is a bold enterprise that will modernize our decaying military arsenal. Nearly 50 major capital projects are underway to replace and upgrade Cold War-era hardware. This includes acquiring new modular assault rifles, long-range precision strike systems, advanced drone capabilities, reintroducing ground-based air defenses, new jet trainers and fighters, and a new fleet of warships.
An unimaginable gap
Canada has the world’s longest coastline, measuring 243,042 km. This massive shoreline encompasses both the mainland and over 52,000 offshore islands. It is bordered by three oceans: the Pacific to the west, the Arctic to the north, and the Atlantic to the east. One can only imagine the Royal Canadian Navy’s arsenal should be huge, but it is not.
One of the most crucial ships in any military navy is the submarine. The capability of sailing underwater, performing attack or defense missions, is vital to protect the country. In 1998, the Canadian government purchased four second-hand subs from UK. The diesel-electric powered ships, originally called Upholder-class were acquired for roughly $750 million, and subsequently renamed them the Victoria-class. The vessels—named HMCS Victoria, HMCS Windsor, HMCS Corner Brook, and HMCS Chicoutimi—were delivered to the Canadian Forces Maritime Command (renamed to Royal Canadian Navy in 2011) between 2000 and 2004.
The ships had a short career in the Royal Navy, around 14 years, with the vessels being decommissioned in 1994. After an unsuccessful bid to transfer these submarines to the Pakistan Navy in 1993–1994, the Canadian government eventually purchased the submarines and a suite of trainers.
The Victoria-class subs are the perfect example of how unprepared the Canadian military has been. Even if the boats could be considered modern equipment at the time of purchase, four subs were not nearly enough for our coast’s size. The vessels underwent a modernization process in 2014, which should extend their lifespan until 2030. But the truth is, the boats are extremely worn out, and only one, the HMCS Corner Brook, is currently operational.
Canada faced sharp criticism, especially from Americans, for its lack of commitment to defense spending, and they weren’t wrong. For decades, we depended on our neighbors to the south for protection, but this can’t continue.
In July 2024, days before the annual NATO meeting, Defense Minister Bill Blair announced that Canada “is taking the first step towards the procurement of up to 12 conventionally-powered, under-ice capable submarines.”
The competition
In late August 2025, the Liberal government announced it had narrowed down its choices to two submarine builders:
The first one is the German/Norwegian ThyssenKrupp Marine Systems (TKMS), one of the world’s leading naval defense companies and a global market leader in non-nuclear submarines. Headquartered in Germany, the company designs and builds state-of-the-art submarines, surface vessels, and integrated naval electronics.
The second contender is Hanwha Ocean, a South Korean defense firm.
Hanwha Ocean Co., Ltd., formerly known as Daewoo Shipbuilding & Marine Engineering, is one of the “Big Three” shipbuilders of South Korea, along with Hyundai and Samsung.
The Koreans were serious about winning this contract. On March 25, 2026, the Republic of Korea Navy submarine ROKS Dosan Ahn Chang-ho (SS-083) set sail from Jinhae Naval Base on a two-month, 14,000 km voyage to Canada. The sub is a KSS-III, built by Hanwha, with a displacement of 3,600 tons, and it can be armed with torpedoes, ballistic, and/or anti-ship missiles
The Korean sub made logistical stops in Guam and Hawaii along the way. In Hawaii, two RCN submariners embarked and joined the ROK Navy crew for the voyage onward to Victoria, highlighting the operational integration and partnership between the two navies and, obviously, taking notes on the Korean sub’s performance.
On May 23, 2026, the sub arrived at CFB Esquimalt in Victoria, B.C. (pictured above). This historic voyage marks the longest trans-Pacific transit in South Korean submarine history.
South Korean officials said the journey demonstrated that the Dosan Ahn Chang-ho had the operational range, endurance, and self-sufficiency that Canada required for its Canadian Patrol Submarine Project, and by far, the KSS-III has the fastest delivery schedule and the best economic package for Canada.
The final decision
The competition to build the 12 Canadian submarines provoked a commotion in the arms industry, and the world was following its development closely.
Both bids — from South Korea with Hanwha Ocean and Germany and Norway with TKMS — made offers that extended well beyond just a submarine procurement, each pledging to make serious investments and contributions to Canada’s economy.
On July 06, Prime Minister Mark Carney, at the dockside in Halifax, announced the ThyssenKrupp Marine Systems is Canada’s preferred choice to build the navy’s new fleet of submarines — a multibillion-dollar defence program that is expected to be the largest in the country’s history.
He confirmed it was a close race: “This was a difficult, close decision between two highly qualified suppliers. Both the TKMS and Hanwha platforms met the capabilities of the Royal Canadian Navy, and both put forward strong proposals to maximize benefits for Canadian workers and businesses.”
Choosing a shipbuilder doesn’t mean the deal is done. Now, both sides will sit down and start the bargain phase of the process. The Canadian government didn’t give the reasons why they picked the Germans, which is normal at this stage of the negotiations.
The German/Norwegian submarine.
If everything goes smooth sailing, the sub Canadians will be receiving is the Type 212CD.
The machine is a redesigned version of the 212A, diesel-electric powered, with a displacement of 2,500 tons. It is smaller than the Korean counterpart but has a diamond shaped hull that improves its stealth capabilities. It is armed with up to 14 torpedoes, distributed in 6 tubes of 533mm in diameter.
It can receive a combination of ballistic and anti-ship missiles. An underwater drone, “Blue Whale,” is still in development, and it will be part of the sub’s arsenal in the near future.
Although the boats will be built entirely at the TKMS Shipyard in Kiel, Germany, all the high-tech components, specialized software, and training simulators will be built domestically by Canadian tech firms.
An artistic rendition of a 212CD sub and its “Blue Whale” drone.
The government expects to create thousands of direct and indirect jobs through this deal. All long-term maintenance, mechanical overhauls, and localized engineering support will take place at coastal naval hubs in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and Esquimalt, BC.
In a perfect scenario, 100 percent of the value of the federal government’s investment would be matched by TKMS and the German government in economic benefits to Canada.
Conclusion.
A Norwegian Navy 212 CD
The first four vessels are targeted for delivery by 2034, and the remaining eight are scheduled to follow at roughly one per year, with the final sub arriving around 2042. But we all know that establishing delivery dates in such a massive enterprise like this can be tricky.
Some experts say Canada’s choice of TKMS was a missed opportunity to expand its business into Asia and increase its influence beyond Europe. Analysts also suggest that it is very likely that Germany will elect a far-right government in the next election, making it more difficult to align the interests of both countries in the future.
“In the event that negotiations with TKMS are unsuccessful, Canada retains the right to designate Hanwha’s KSS-III, currently the reserve supplier, as the preferred supplier and enter negotiations with them,” Carney said in his speech.
My wife and I were following the entire process of buying the new Canadian subs, and she was the one who broke the news to me, saying the German sub was the chosen one.
She asked me: “What do you think about it?
I said: “Well, the Germans know a thing or two about submarines.”
Note of the editor: The modern Deutsche Marine, the successor to the infamous Kriegsmarine (War Navy) and communist Volksmarine (People’s Navy), is part of the German military today. The German Navy still possesses advanced submarines, but it has only a few. According to public records, Germany has just six U-boats today, all of them the 212 Class. They are still called U-boats, and they still use the Spartan naming scheme of putting a U in front of a number. In German, the designation is U-Boote (short for Unterseeboot, or undersea boat).
In the 1970s, as Japanese motorcycles began dominating the global market, Norton was merely another legendary British bike brand fighting to stay afloat.
Geoff Duke, riding the Works Norton 500cc. Both rider and bike became the World Champions of Moto GP, 1951.
A mix of mismanagement and lack of innovation brought the company very close to bankruptcy. Still, it was in the late 1960s that Norton had a spark of brilliance; the engineering development team concluded that the best way to defend the company against the Japanese attack would be to adopt a new and revolutionary technology, the rotary engine.
The Wankel Engine.
One can write a whole book explaining why the internal combustion, reciprocating piston engine is an absurdity in terms of fuel and thermal efficiency. Still, it was only in the 1950s that the development of alternative engines began to gain momentum.
By the late 1960s, the Wankel rotary engine seemed the most promising “revolutionary” engine. The original design was created by the German engineer Felix Wankel in 1929, but it was not fully developed until 1957. Mazda was the only automaker to mass-produce a car equipped with the rotary engine, the RX-7, and on two wheels, Suzuki was another enthusiast of the Wankel.
Norton was somehow confident the new engine would give the company the advantage needed against the Japanese bikes, but the process was long and painful. It took more than 18 years to put a rotary-powered Norton bike on the streets. The development began in 1969 at the BSA Group Research Center in Kitts Green; the Wankel engine was based on a Sachs air-cooled rotary used in the German-built DKW/Hercules model W2000. The Norton prototype was ready in 1972. At the same time, the company finally obtained a license to use the engine from Auto-Union Group (later Audi), the legal owner of the Wankel brand.
In 1973, Norton was absorbed by the BSA/Triumph group, and somehow the Wankel project survived the complications of having 3 different brands under the same umbrella. Still, the distance between the prototype and the final version can be substantial.
The 1987 Norton P41 police.
It was only in 1987 that Norton unveiled the Interpol 2 police model P41, equipped with a 588cc, air-cooled, twin-rotor engine. A first batch of 350 bikes was sold to various police stations across England. It didn’t take long to realize that the project had very poor development: rough idling, overheating, and blown engine seals were the most frequent complaints from the police officers.
In 1988, Norton released the Commando 588 model P53 to the public, equipped with a liquid-cooled rotary engine, solving most overheating problems. The traditional customer didn’t receive the new bike well; sales were modest compared with the regular “piston” engine Norton models.
The Wankel Wizard.
Among all the employees involved in developing the Wankel-Norton bikes, perhaps no one was more enthusiastic than Brian Crighton (pictured above). He saw the full potential of the rotary engine and spent countless hours of his free time trying to squeeze more horsepower out of it. At this point, Crighton didn’t have any official support from Norton for tinkering with those engines, but he found his “research material” in piles of discarded police bikes, and he never received pay for his after-hours work. During the first phase of this development, he increased the power output from the stock 85HP to 96HP; it might not sound like much today, but back then it was enough to convince the very skeptical CEOs that a rotary-powered race bike could be a viable idea.
Brian Crighton’s work at Norton was fueled by passion, and that is easy to understand; he had been a hardcore race biker during the 1970s, and the racetrack was his natural environment. He just wanted to be back there and do whatever it took to make Norton a winning team.
In 1987, Crighton was invited to join the Racing Development Team, and, with a very tight budget, Norton began its competition endeavor in the British motorcycle racing season. At this point, the Wankel engine had reached 125 HP while retaining the stock 9.2:1 compression.
Norton RC 588
1987 RC 588
For the 1987 season, the RC 588 was still considered a prototype. Still, in many ways, it was a very good one: the air-cooled Wankel engine was producing a decent amount of power 125 HP), the awkward steel chassis (derived from the police street bike) was replaced with an all-aluminum full race frame produced by Spondon Engineering, and Suzuki supplied the front fork.
Racing started in late 1987, with employee Malcolm Heath as the official rider. He scored one victory during the season. Things got more serious in 1988 when Steve Spray, the second Norton rider, won two major races for the team: first, the TT F1 British Championship race, and then the Powerbike International open race. These two superb performances got the attention of the British tobacco brand John Player Special, and the company became the main sponsor of the Norton racing team.
Norton RCW 588
Norton started the 1989 season proudly wearing the iconic black-and-gold JPS livery. The new sponsorship certainly gave the team some room to breathe, but compared with the mighty Japanese and Italian factory teams, Norton was like a little mouse going after a bunch of tigers.
The Norton guys knew they had something special: the new bike, the RCW 588, received the improved, water-cooled version of the rotary engine, which meant 10 extra “ponies.” The bike was light (268 pounds), powerful (135 HP), and well balanced – a killer combination that caught the competition off guard.
What happened in 1989 was one of those stories that could well be the narrative of a movie: a small, underfunded team, steamrolling over way more powerful rivals and driving the fans into a frenzy.
Steve Spray won the 750 cc Supercup Championship and the British F1 title; Trevor Nation also had some awesome performances, but the 1989 season was definitely Spray’s. On top of all the victories, he also set lap records at Donington Park, Thruxton, Snetterton, Brands Hatch Indy Circuit, and Cadwell Park during the season.
In 1989, Brian Crighton was promoted to Senior Development Engineer at Norton, and the new responsibilities made it impossible for him to keep managing the racing team. At the end of the year, Barry Symmons, the ex-Honda Britain boss, was brought in to run the works team.
Steve Spray in action
The success continued in 1990; the Norton boys were not only riding to win races but also on a mission to show the world that Norton wasn’t dead yet. Nation won the MCN TT Superbike Championship, and Robert Dunlop won both Superbike races at the Northwest League.
There was a surge in TV coverage; Norton/JPS merchandise was selling like hotcakes, and the fans were going wild. It was a British bike, sponsored by a British brand and ridden by British riders; for the UK fans, it was a matter of national pride.
Trevor Nation
It was also in 1990 that the fairy tale began to crumble; Brian Crighton, the father of the Norton racing team, resigned from the company, alleging serious disagreements with the new team manager, Barry Symmons. Later on, Crighton started his own Wankel-powered bike project, The Roton.
The 1991 season was proof that many of the changes brought by Symmons were not working as planned. Perhaps the worst of his decisions was switching the tire supplier to Michelin, throwing out the window all the development done with Dunlop.
Most of the original team members were gone, and so was the magic of the 1989/90 seasons. Norton was no longer the dominant brand in the British Superbike Championship, and the CEOs were signaling that the racing program was nearing its end.
The greatest Isle of the Man TT
In 1992, two of the brightest stars in the British bike racing universe, Steve “Hizzy” Hislop and Carl Fogarty, were the protagonists of what is considered by many the finest Isle of Man TT races in history.
The two riders were not bitter enemies; they were bitter rivals on the race track. Fogarty was rude and a blabbermouth, always bragging about his talent. He made more enemies than friends on his way to the top. Hislop, on the other hand, was calm and well-mannered, always willing to listen before saying something. Their distinctive personalities were reflected in the way they behaved on the race track.
For the 1992 Isle of Man edition, Fogarty had a comfortable position at British Yamaha, but Hislop was having a hard time finding a bike for the event. A month before the race, Barry Symmons offered him a chance to ride for Norton, and with no better option on the horizon, he accepted. But he was sure that, at this point, the rotary machine had no chance against the big guys.
Phillip McCallen and his GP Honda, the winners of the 1992 Isle of the Man F1 race
On the first of the main races of the week-long event, the F1, Hizzy, even dealing with constant overheating on his Norton, was able to keep up with the two fastest riders, Fogarty on a Yamaha and McCauley on a Honda. The three riders set an insane pace, clocking laps with no more than 5 seconds between them. Close to the end, Fogarty was forced to retire when the gearbox of his Yamaha broke down, leaving the first position to McCauley and Hislop in a close second.
Steve “Hizzy’ Hislop ridding the “White Charger” Norton RCW 588
Despite his amazing performance, Hislop’s bike wasn’t even completely set up for him. For the main race, the next morning- the Senior TT- the Norton team had to spend the night doing some critical changes. First, they installed a larger windscreen, making it easier for Hislop to fit inside and improving the aerodynamics; then, a wider handlebar for better control of the bike; and last, the front fender was removed, increasing airflow to cool the engine.
At the start of the race, Fogarty was comfortable in 4th position, but Hislop was 19th. It took him almost the entire race to get through the traffic, but he did it masterfully, pushing his Norton to the limit but with elegance and precision, saving the machine from a possible breakdown.
Carl Fogarty and the Yamaha 750 GP.
Fogarty’s brutal riding style took a toll on his bike; it was literally falling apart but still in fighting condition. When Hizzy finally closed in, one of the most intense duels in the history of the Senior TT race took place; they fought fiercely to the last lap, but it was Hislop and his howling Norton that crossed the checkered flag in first place. Norton was once again the winner of the Isle of Man; the last time was in 1961. Hislop considers the 1992 Senior TT victory as “my greatest race ever.”
Hislop’s amazing performance at the 1992 Senior TT race was the swan song for the Norton Racing Team, which was going through a serious financial crisis, and it was time to end the program.
The official factory race team was over, but that doesn’t mean the rotary Norton was gone from the race tracks.
The Wizard strikes again.
The official Norton-Wankel racing program wouldn’t have existed at all if it weren’t for Brian Crighton. Right after he left the company in 1990, he started his own business, preparing rotary bikes for private teams and his own team.
After the Norton works team left the competition, The Crighton’s machines started to shine, it was his turn to win.
Ian Simpson going airborne on his “Duckhams-Crighton” Norton
The Crighton Team was always among the top qualifiers. Still, they reached their peak in 1994, when their two riders obliterated the competition, scoring 52 podium finishes, with Ian Simpson winning the British Supercup Championship and Phil Borley taking 3rd place.
As one can imagine, the big brands were not so happy with this rotary madness, as Terry Rymer, a Honda rider at the time, once said: “I am a bit fed up with those Nortons passingby and spitting flames on my face, but I guess this is what makes the crowd happy“.
Well, the fans were happy all right, but the big teams were not, and the 1994 season was the last straw. At the end of the year, they got together to put some pressure on the organizers, and for the next season, the Wankel engine was officially banned from competing in the UK.
Trevor Nation.
The Norton-Wankel era was short but intense. The fans will forever remember those years as the most exciting ones in British motorcycle racing history. After all, everybody loves to see the underdog winning.
The screaming, flame-throwing RCW 588 finished its career where it started: at the top.
But one guy wouldn’t let it go…
Brian Crighton never stopped messing around with the Wankel Norton bikes, and after so many years of development, he might have reached rotary nirvana. Here it is, his latest creation:
Crighton Racing CR700P.
For this new beast, the Crighton Team solved what was, perhaps, the most annoying problem of the rotary Norton: overheating. They created an ingenious hybrid cooling system that works with liquid and some gas; sounds complicated? You bet, but he won’t tell us how it works; it’s a well-kept secret. The 700cc, twin-rotor Wankel engine can make 200 HP without the fear of melting internal components. The CR700P is scary fast, and, on top of that, it is gorgeous. Well done, Wizard.
Have you ever heard the howling of a rotary GP bike flat out down the straight? Me neither, until I saw this video. Enjoy.
In 1973, Ford Brazil introduced the locally built Maverick. At that time, most of our domestic auto industry’s offerings were based on European cars, and consumers were eager for an option 100% rooted in an authentic American vehicle. The gearhead community was excited about the car, which was expected to be a close relative of the Mustang.
After the first units left the dealerships, most of this excitement vanished. The limited interior room and the poor performance of the entry-level models were the main complaints from the customers.
Even if Ford did improve the car throughout its 6 years in production, the meager sales numbers forced the company to shut it down in 1979. In total, only 106,108 Mavericks were produced in Brazil.
But the same car that consumers hated in the late 1970s later became one of the favorites among collectors. It took nearly fifty years, but the Maverick’s status has shifted from shameful to desirable.
This is the story of the Brazilian Maverick. A story filled with more misses than hits, about a car that could have been just a footnote in our automotive history but was saved by the passion of car enthusiasts.
The Maverick in Latin America
The “Global Car” concept it is a term that became part of the automotive jargon in the 1980s, but the idea of automobile platforms being sold in different parts of the world is much older. Some cars were so well engineered that they naturally thrived in different corners of the planet.
The Ford Maverick is a good example of this practice. The car was released in the USA in 1969 as a replacement for the Ford Falcon. Following the same philosophy of its predecessor, the Maverick was marketed as an affordable and reliable entry-level vehicle. Ford’s guru, Lee Iaccoca, call it “The Simple Machine.” Easy to buy and easy to maintain. Ford believed so much in the car that assembly lines were quickly established in Mexico and Venezuela.
The Ford Maverick originally debuted as a sporty two-door coupe featuring classic pony car proportions like a long hood and a short rear deck. Ford later expanded the lineup to include a more practical four-door sedan version.
There were 3 different in-line 6 engine options:
170 CID (2.8 liter)
200 CID (3.3 liter)
250 CID (4.1 liter)
And the optional 302 CID (4.9 liter) small block V8.
Ford wasn’t wrong about the Maverick; in its first year, nearly 579,000 units were sold in the USA, close to the record-setting first-year Mustang sales of nearly 619,000.
The car was also a big success in Venezuela. The demand was actually higher than the production capacity of the Ford assembly line in Valencia, forcing them to import cars from Mexico and the USA.
The company was ready to extend this success to another country in South America, Brazil.
The Brazilian Ford
1969 Corcel GT. This car is part of the Powertech collection. Photo by The Classic Machines.
In the late 1960s, Ford Brazil had established itself as a strong supplier of commercial trucks and was expanding its lineup into passenger cars. They launched the luxurious Galaxie in 1967, followed by the economical Corcel in 1969. The Corcel was originally developed by Willys-Overland, which Ford had acquired in 1967.
The Corcel wasn’t the only car that came in the Willys package, Ford also kept producing the Jeep CJ, the Jeep Station Wagon, and the Itamaraty (pictured above) which was a fancy version of the Willys Aero.
Interesting fact: During the military dictatorship, it was common practice for automakers to “please” the government by naming their cars after related things. Itamaraty is the name of the Federal Government’s palace.
All the company needed at that point was a modern product to replace the ancient Itamaraty to compete in the medium car segment, which was dominated by Chevrolet Opala.
1972 Chevy Opala SS
This new Ford will have to face a formidable opponent. The Chevy Opala successfully paired a superb German platform (Opel Rekord) with a couple of trustworthy American engines (the Iron Duck 2.5-liter 4-cylinder and the 250 CID inline-six). On top of all that, the car was simply beautiful, a brilliant job done by the Brazilian designers, who brought the original Opel Rekord to a more American style.
The Simple Machine
The top CEOs in Dearborn were certain the Maverick was the right car at the right moment for the Brazilian market, but the local Ford guys were not so sure about it.
In 1972, Ford threw a cocktail party and invited some random people from the Brazilian society, mostly journalists. In the room there were four cars, all in white, with no badges and no name plates. Two of them were very well-known from the streets, a Ford Corcel and a Chevy Opala. The other two cars were an American Ford Maverick and a German Ford Taunus.
While people were happily drinking and eating, they were asked to vote on the car they liked best. The winner was the Taunus.
1972 Ford Tanus Coupe
Of course, the people who attended this party were just a tiny little fraction of the market, but among them, there were some of the most influential automobile journalists of the time. The Taunus should have been the obvious and logical choice for Ford. It was already the competitor of the Opel Rekord in Germany, the very car that was the basis for the Chevy Opala.
However, things were not as simple as they appeared. While the Maverick was, as Lee Iacocca called it, “The Simple Machine“, the Taunus was a more refined vehicle featuring a more sophisticated engine, transmission, and suspension system. Initial assessments showed that building a Taunus assembly line in Brazil would cost Ford around $14 million, whereas a Maverick line would cost only half that amount.
It was decided that the Maverick would be the newest Ford introduced to the Brazilian auto market. If the car was a success in Venezuela, why not in Brazil? Well, the reality between the two countries was a bit different during those years. Venezuela in the early 1970s was a stable and prosperous democracy, with plenty of cheap oil, while Brazil was under a military dictatorship and heavily depended on imported oil.
The Brazilian Ford wanted to ditch the inline-six engine options and equip the car with a modern, fuel-efficient unit: the 2.3 OHC “Lima” engine. The 302 V8, imported (mainly from Mexico) would be the option for performance-oriented customers.
Complexo Industrial Ford, in Taubaté, São Paulo.
Part of a massive investment to produce the new car was already underway: Ford was building a brand-new engine assembly plant specifically for the new 2.3 engine (picture above), and that’s when things started to go sour. This new industrial complex was set to be fully operational by mid-1975, and time was definitely not on Ford’s side.
The year 1973/74 marked a pivotal moment in the Brazilian auto industry. All domestic companies had significant products to launch: cars that would transform the market and the way consumers were accustomed to purchasing vehicles.
Volkswagen, as the market leader, was about to launch the Passat and the Brasilia.
Chevrolet would release the Chevette and Dodge the “1800.” Ford faced significant pressure to release the Maverick around the same time.
The company had a few options on the table; the first and most reasonable was to delay the Maverick’s release until the 2.3 engine was available. The other option was to import the engine from the USA for a couple of years, but that would have made the car too expensive.
And once again, Ford took the easiest path. The CEOs and the engineering department thought it would be a good idea to equip the car with the readily available Aero Willys/Itamaraty engine.
The 2.6 L (161 CI) Willys inline six dated back to 1950, when the even older Willys flathead six received an F-head conversion (overhead intake valves, side exhaust valves in the block). It was outdated by the mid-60s, even by South American standards.
Willys Brasil did some work to improve it, increasing displacement from 2.6 to 3.0 liters, adding a better-flowing exhaust header, and even offering an optional dual-carb version. They were able to squeeze a few extra horses out of the engine, but it wasn’t enough. Reliability was another concern, as the engine was known as a “six-burner stove”. The last cylinder, the one closest to the firewall, would overheat at higher RPMs to the point of melting the piston.
Ford did some improvements as well, things like new pistons and connecting rods able to use better rings and journals, redesigned head, intake and exhaust manifold, and they even installed a bypass coolant hose out side of the engine to cool down the last cylinder.
A “stillborn” car.
The Willys-powered Maverick allowed Ford to release the car in 1973 without missing the winds of change in the market.
Obviously, the car received mixed reviews upon its release.
1974 Ford Maverick GT
The most desirable Maverick was the GT, a model that Americans never had. The car had an aggressive visual, painted in bright colors with cool graphics, wider wheels and tires, and front disc brakes. Equipped exclusively with rev-loving 302 V8 and paired with a 4-speed manual transmission, the GT was the street-fighter that Blue Oval fans had been eagerly awaiting.
But the entry-level models were a disappointment.
Besides the GT, the Maverick was offered in two trim levels, Super and Super Luxo. In 1973, only the 2-door coupe was available (the preferred version among Brazilian customers). The 4-door sedan came in 1974.
Customers expressed dissatisfaction with the coupe’s limited rear-seat space and poor rear visibility from the fastback design. However, the most notable issue was the powertrain. The Willys inline 6 was underpowered and fuel-inefficient, and the weird 4-speed transmission with the shifter on the column didn’t help much either. The 2.5-liter Chevy Opala consistently outperformed the 6-cylinder Maverick in every scenario. Although both trims offered optional V8 engines and automatic transmissions, these upgrades significantly increased the vehicle’s cost.
1975 Jeep CJ. Another Willys vehicle that Fors kept in production after acquiring the company in 1967.
In 1975, the 2.3-liter engine finally arrived, powering not only the Maverick but also all the company’s light utilitarian vehicles, like the Jeep lineup.
The new engine was a breath of fresh air to the Maverick, but unfortunately, the damage was already done.
Photo courtesy of Clube do Carro Antigo do Brasil.
In 1977, the Maverick received a light cosmetic update, a new grille, fake hood air scoops (GT only), and tri-segment taillamps, inspired by the Mustang.
The 2.3-liter engine combined with a four-speed manual transmission was the standard setup for the Maverick at this point. Although the powertrain improvements made it a fairly competitive vehicle for the Brazilian market, its disastrous initial release hurt the car’s prospects for a bright future.
V8 was still available, but the outrageous gas prices made it not a very popular option.
The end of a very short career.
In 1978, Ford completely redesigned the successful Corcel (pictured above), giving it a modern “1980s” style. The car was bigger and roomier, with a comfortable ride. The new Corcel had put one foot into the midsize car market, further hurting the already shameful Maverick sales.
1979 Maverick LDO.
1979 was the Mavericks’ final year. Exactly 106,108 units were produced in Brazil. An embarrassing number, even for South American standards.
On the other hand, Chevrolet sold around 1 million Opalas during its 24 years in production between 1968 and 1992.
Competition
It would be a shame not to talk a little about the racing career of the Brazilian Maverick. If the car had failed to beat the Opala on the market, at least it did for a while on the tracks.
By the early 70s, the most prestigious race in Brazil was the “Division 3” for the domestic touring cars in a very unrestricted rules environment. Until 1973, Chevy Opala was the king of the class.
Ford was really committed to making the Maverick a champion, following the motto “Win on Sunday, sell on Monday “. The company provided the teams with financial and technical support and access to a wide range of performance parts for the 302 small block.
The Mavericks dominated the Division 3 for a few years, but in 1976, Ford decided to cut the money flow to the class. It was too expensive and was failing to attract more cars to the grid.
If there is a car that symbolizes the peak of the Maverick era in Division 3, it is the Hollywood-Berta Maverick. Hollywood was the most popular cigarette brand in Brazil in the 70s and 80s, and it had a very strong appeal among the youngsters.
The team, in partnership with the Argentinian race car builder, Orestes “The Wizard” Berta, built the ultimate racing machine, taking full advantage of the lack of restrictions the class offered.
The small block received a very aggressive camshaft, a pair of Gurney Eagle aluminum heads topped with 4 Weber 48 IDA carbs. The sloppy front suspension was replaced with a tubular “Mustang II” control arms setup. The powertrain was moved a few inches backward to improve weight distribution. All the aerodynamic stuff around the car was said to be effective. To complete the combo, massive wheels and tires were installed.
This Maverick was an unbeatable machine for a couple of years, but it was also a symbol of “money can make you a champion”.
After Hollywood ended its racing team in 1976, the Maverick was sold to private drivers until it was retired and kept in storage for decades, until it was found by a classic car collector and restored to its original glory.
In 1976, Divisão 3 was discontinued, and the Brazilian Stock Car took its place. The new class used the Chevy Opala and competed under much more restricted, budget-friendly rules.
But the Maverick never left the race tracks. The car is still a favorite in the drag-racing universe, and the old rivalry with the Chevy Opala remains strong, with no signs it will ever cool down.
From neglected to beloved.
When Maverick production ended in 1979, the world was in the midst of a recession. Brazil started the 1980s in deep financial trouble, with high inflation and limited job opportunities. As a result, the Maverick became a dime a dozen in the used car market. Many of them ended up in junk yards. I remember, as a teenager, desperately saving my allowance to buy a V8 Maverick. Every time I had enough money, my dad, wisely, convinced me to abandon the idea and spend it on slot cars or something else more useful.
The fate of the Brazilian Maverick started to turn around by the early 2000s. At this time, the prices of the usual 1960s classic American pony cars like the Mustang and Camaro reached stratospheric levels, and Brazilian collectors began to shift their attention to more affordable options.
Brazilian Southern Nats – 2014
Slowly, the Brazilian V8s (Ford and MOPAR) began to receive the love they deserved, and as the demand increased, the value of the survivors’ Maverick began to climb. Obviously, the most sought-after models are the V8 ones.
1978 Maverick GT 302 V8.
The V8 models accounted for roughly 20% of Maverick’s total sales in Brazil. Ford expected low demand, which was why it imported the 302 rather than producing it there. We believed those V8 engines were all coming from Canada, and soon, on the streets, the unofficial name of the 302 became “The Canadian “. Years later, we learned they actually came mostly from Mexico, but the name stuck to this day.
Maverick Clube reunion. Paraná – Brazil.
For American standards, our small block was pretty tame: 7.8:1 comp ratio, bijet carb on top, single exhaust. Nothing special. Ford officially declared the power just a bit under the 200 hp limit in order to make insurance cost more affordable. On the title of the V8 Mavericks you can read “198 hp”.
Now a days, a decently restored Maverick GT V8 can easily fetch prices around $60,000 in the Brazilian auto classic market. Just to give an idea, I found a 1966 convertible Mustang at Smokey Mountain Traders for $55,000. https://www.hemmings.com/classifieds/dealer/ford/mustang/2557416.html
In the family
Rodrigo, my brother-in-law, is the perfect example of how passionate a car enthusiast can be about the Maverick. A couple of years ago, he completed a full restoration of his 1975 Maverick (pictured above).
The car has an interesting story: it was a junkyard rescue and was originally a 6-cylinder. Now it has a 347 stroker with aluminum heads, Crower camshaft, and a 650 CFM Edelbrock carb on top. The engine is paired with a 5-speed Tremec, and the car features disc brakes on all four corners and a nice set of American Racing wheels.
But his passion for the Maverick has no limits. A year ago, he dismantled the whole car, and now he is going through the laborious process of installing a supercharger V8 engine and transmission removed from a Jaguar F-Pace.
At work
When I came to work for Powertech in 2008, this Maverick was already there. At the time, it was just a body shell, no powertrain, no interior, nothing, but the body was straight and rust-free, and the best part was that the car was an original V8 GT.
The restoration began in 2013, and it took two years to be completed. My contribution was to find a few parts for the car.
Unfortunately, I left Brazil before the job was finished, but when a friend sent me the pictures, I felt so happy knowing a small part of my work was there. It’s a very rewarding feeling.
My boss at Powertech is a Ford enthusiast and a big fan of the Maverick. Back in the 1990s, he built the very first Pro Mod in the country, the Maverick “White Shark” (pictured above).
The car became legendary on tracks across Brazil and a symbol of the early years of professional drag racing in the country.
Conclusion
Around the world, the Ford Maverick fulfilled its mission as a simple, reliable machine aimed at customers with not-so-deep pockets—a worthy replacement for the Ford Falcon.
But its history in Brazil is unique. The car went from a shameful sales failure to one of the most beloved classic cars in the country.
A love that can’t be found in any other country the car was built.
The DB4 model, produced from 1958 until 1963, was the car that put Aston Martin firmly in the sports coupe segment and started the iconic look that would define the brand throughout the next decades. If you look closely, styling cues from this car can still be found in modern Aston Martin models. Aston made […]
I must confess that this series of posts has become quite enjoyable to write. It allows me to dig deep into my endless collection of digital photos and revisit the stories behind each one.
These pictures I took in 2016, when I was working as a detailer at the Birchwood Collision Center in Winnipeg.
It was my first job in Canada. The shop was the largest within the group’s two collision centers, handling most of the body and paint work from 14 Birchwood dealerships around town.
This job gave me the chance to drive a huge variety of machines, from the ordinary Chevy Cruze and Honda Civic to a convertible Aston Martin. It was the best part of the job, even if most of the time it was just a quick drive around the parking lot.
Now and then, a classic would pop up, and this is the case with this 1972 BMW Bavaria.
This car came to the body shop for a small paint repair, and after the job was done, it was supposed to be taken to the BMW dealership for brake inspection. The BMW’s valet guy came and said he wouldn’t drive the car because it has no brakes, and to make things worse, he flooded the carb while trying to start it.
I asked the service advisor to hand me the keys, and I was willing to give it a try. Maybe my years dealing with old cars had taught me something. I used the old trick of starting the car while pressing the gas pedal to the floor, letting a lot of air into the chamber to deal with all the unburned gas, and it worked. The EFI generation doesn’t know this trick. Why? Because they don’t need to.
I tried the brakes, and yes, the pedal was very low, but it was enough to stop the car at low speed.
I drove the Bimmer to the dealer, which was 200 meters away. No sweat. On my walk back, I had this good feeling that old guys like me are sometimes useful.
At the time, I thought there was nothing special about this BMW, but I was wrong.
The BMW Bavaria was only available in the United States from 1968 to 1977. It is also known as the “New Six” or E3. The aim was to provide customers with a more affordable option in the high-performance European sedan segment, which was booming at the time and was mostly dominated by Mercedes-Benz. In 1972, it featured a 197 HP, 3.0-litre M30 inline-six engine, replacing the earlier 2.8-litre.
“Mine” was a stick shift, as it should.
I hope you have enjoyed this Catch of the Day, and I will see you soon.
“Why do we even bother? He is different from the rest of us. On a separate level” – Jacques Laffite, talking about Gilles Villeneuve.-
A few years ago, I was chatting with some friends, we were casually listing a few great Formula One drivers when I said: – Gilles Villeneuve -, while most of the guys nodded their heads agreeing with me, one friend said: I don’t understand all the fuss about Villeneuve, he didn’t win a single World Championship.
Even if my pal was being superficial in his comment, he wasn’t wrong. Villeneuve achieved only 6 victories during his 6 years in Formula One. With such a modest career, why do the fans still remember him as one of the greatest?
Joseph Gilles Henri Villeneuve was born in Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, in the French-Canadian province of Quebec, on January 18, 1950. While most Formula One drivers started their careers racing go-karts, Villeneuve’s first love affair with speed was riding snowmobiles.
At 19, he was already a professional racer, and in 1974, he won the World Snowmobile Derby. It doesn’t get any more Canadian than that.
The skills he learned racing snowmobiles set him apart from the other drivers when he decided to try racing cars. This is the kind of machine you have to “dive” the nose into the turn and power-slide the rear. This “drifting” style became his trademark throughout his career.
Villeneuve himself explains this experience:
“Every winter, you would reckon on three or four big spills — and I’m talking about being thrown onto the ice at 100 miles per hour. Those things used to slide a lot, which taught me a great deal about control. And the visibility was terrible! Unless you were leading, you could see nothing, with all the snow blowing about. Good for the reactions — and it stopped me from having any worries about racing in the rain”.
Villeneuve was also involved in drag racing, competing at local tournaments, which is also very unusual among F-One driver wannabes. He modified and raced the very first car he owned, a 1967 Ford Mustang coupe.
The Mustang still belongs to the Villeneuve family, but it was abandoned in their backyard for decades.
The last information I have is that the car was brought indoors in 2016 for a well-deserved restoration. Gilles was a Mustang guy; he owned quite a few of them.
Towards Formula-One
Villeneuve and his Magnum Formula Ford.
In 1973, with the little money he made racing snowmobiles, Villeneuve bought a second-hand Magnum Formula-Ford and started competing right away at the local Quebec F-Ford championship. He dominated the season, winning 7 out of 10 races, and also clinched “The Rookie of the Year” title.
Formula Atlantic
Villeneuve’s dominance of the season and his aggressive driving style certainly caught the attention of other teams. In 1974, with a little financial help from the soft drink company Schweppes, he bought a Formula Atlantic car and began competing. In the same year, he won the World Championship Snowmobile Derby.
Gilles driving his March F-Atlantic, 1975
The Formula Atlantic was, at that time, the most prestigious category in Canadian motorsports. The regulations are similar to those of European Formula 3/2, and for that reason, there were plenty of manufacturers supplying cars, like Brabham, Lotus, March, and Chevron. The machines were powered by 250HP, 1600cc production-based twin-cam engines, mostly Ford-Cosworth; other engines, such as Alfa Romeo, were also eligible.
The 1975 season was a real challenge; Gilles didn’t have the financial means to hire a mechanic, so he performed all the maintenance on his car himself. He won his first Atlantic race in 1975 at Gimli Motosport Park, racing in heavy rain.
In 1976, Gilles joined Chris Harrison’s Ecurie Canada race team and, with the help of factory March engineer Ray Wardell, dominated the season, winning all but one race and taking the US and Canadian titles.
Gilles also won a special F-Atlantic race in Trois-Rivières on September 5, 1976, where he competed against some of the top Formula One drivers, including James Hunt and Alan Jones. He not only won the race but also set the best lap time of the weekend.
Impressed by Villeneuve’s performance, James Hunt used his influence within McLaren (he won the 1976 World Championship driving for the team) to strongly recommend the Canadian as one of their drivers for the 1977 season.
Gilles finished his Formula Atlantic years by winning the Canadian championship in 1977, and that same year, McLaren offered him a position as its third driver. Villeneuve lied about his age; at 27 years, he was considered a bit too old for a rookie in F-One, so he told them he was 25.
Formula-One
Villeneuve made his debut at the 1977 British Grand Prix, starting the race in 9th, driving the old McLaren M23, while James Hunt and Jochen Mass drove the newer M26S. He finished the race in the 11th position after being delayed for two laps by a faulty temperature gauge.
Villeneuve at Silverstone, 1977.
Judging by the numbers, it wasn’t a phenomenal debut race, but the media and the drivers knew there was something special about Gilles; the Canadian had what it takes to be a future champion.
Right after the British GP, Villeneuve was told by team manager Teddy Mayer that McLaren had decided not to renew his contract for 1978, citing that the Canadian could become a bit expensive. They hired Patrick Tambay instead. Gilles still has 7 races left before the end of the season, and after that, he would be jobless.
Luckily, Villeneuve had been on Ferrari’s radar for a while, and in August 1977, he flew to Maranello to meet Enzo Ferrari. The meeting was a success. Enzo pretty much fell in love with Gilles; his diminutive stature and his outspokenness immediately reminded the “Commendatore” of Tazio Nuvolari, a very popular Italian champion from the 1930s. Here is how the big boss Enzo Ferrari describes the meeting:
“When they presented me with this ‘piccolo Canadese’ (little Canadian), this minuscule bundle of nerves, I immediately recognized in him the physique of Nuvolari and said to myself, let’s give him a try.”
Villeneuve at the Canadian GP, 1977
Things were moving fast, Villeneuve signed the contract, and for the last two races of 1977 (Canada and Japan), he was already driving the gorgeous Ferrari 312T. (photo above).
For Gilles, it was like a dream come true, as he described: “If someone said to me that you can have three wishes, my first would have been to get into racing, my second to be in Formula 1, my third to drive for Ferrari…”
1978 season.
The first full season driving for Ferrari was a period of adaptation for Villeneuve; his best results were a third place at the Austrian GP and a memorable first victory at the Canadian GP, which was enough to elevate him to “hero” status in his home country. Some die-hard Ferrari fans in Italy asked the team to replace Gilles with a more seasoned driver, but Enzo stood by his choice.
1979 season.
The next season proved to be a very competitive one indeed. Mario Andretti and the Lotus Team lost the dominance they had enjoyed the previous year, but they were still among the favourites. Other strong contenders were Williams, Ligier, Renault, and, of course, Ferrari.
In 1979, Gilles Villeneuve consolidated his reputation as a daredevil driver; his “take no prisoners” driving style made him popular, and he would drive every lap as if it were his last, even if it sometimes cost him the chance to finish the race.
Villeneuve was one of the pioneers of the “power shift”; he mastered the art of shifting gears while keeping his right foot at full throttle and using the clutch to control the oversteering Once, he wrote a telegram to Enzo Ferrari saying: “Ingegnere, yesterday I tried very hard to break one of the drive axles of the car, and I just couldn’t. Congratulations. “
Gilles even used to turn off the rev limiter on the car and make the engine spin past 14,000 RPM during the power slides. To the mechanics, he was a butcher; to the fans, he was an artist.
Gilles Villeneuve celebrates victory on the podium with third place Alan Jones. April 08, 1979, Long Beach, United States of America.
1979 was the best season of Villeneuve’s career; he won in South Africa, Long Beach, and Watkins Glenn, and finished in second in France, Austria, and Italy. He collected enough points to end the season in second, behind his teammate Jody Scheckter. Ferrari won the constructors’ world championship, closing a very successful decade for the Maranello boys. Ferrari wouldn’t see another driver’s world title until 1994 when Schumacher started his winning streak.
Here are some of the highlights of the season:
Dutch GP
Villeneuve fiercely battled Alan Jones from the start for P1, and he finally got the lead at lap 10. The Canadian was managing to keep Jones at bay, and it seemed he would win the race, but on lap 51, just after passing the pits, his left rear tire exploded, and he spun the Ferrari. He regained control of the car and just kept going. He drove an entire lap with only two tires touching the pavement. The right front was in the air, and the left rear was shredding rubber and sparking with the pavement. Halfway through the lap, the rear wheel, still attached to the hub, just fell off the car. When Gilles pulled into the pits, he tried to convince the mechanics to replace the wheel and tire so he could get back out and continue the fight for the lead. For this stunt, Villeneuve was equally praised as a warrior who never gives up and criticized as an irresponsible driver who unnecessarily puts lives at risk.
French GP
If there is one race that sums up Villeneuve’s career, it is certainly the French GP, 1979. During the final 4 laps of the race, Gilles Villeneuve (Ferrari) and René Arnoux (Renault) fought one of the most intense battles in the history of Formula One.
The turbocharged Renault had been plagued with reliability issues since the beginning of the season, but the team was working hard to improve the car. By the time of the French GP, most of the problems had been fixed, and the whole team was focused on winning the race in their home country. Jean Pierre Jabouille took pole position, but Villeneuve jumped from P1 at the start and led the race until lap 46, when Jabouille passed him.
The Renault cars were performing superbly that day. On lap 76, Rene Arnoux passed Villeneuve, and the French crowd went wild. That would be the most complete French victory ever: 2 Renaults, driven by two French drivers, riding on French tires (Michelin), and burning French fuel (Elf) were about to finish the French GP in 1-2.
But Villeneuve was willing to rain on the French parade; the Canadian knew he had no chance to fight for the lead, but he was determined to hold his ground on P2. Better than reading about the duel is watching it.
The fight is remembered by fans as one of the most memorable moments in Formula One. Villeneuve, who crossed the finish line less than a quarter of a second ahead of Arnoux, later described the occasion as “my best memory of Grand Prix racing”.
The battle didn’t change their friendship.
Italian GP
The Renault cars were fast enough to qualify in the front row, but not fast enough to break away from the Ferraris. Throughout the race, both teams exchanged positions until Arnoux and Jabouille retired with mechanical problems, leaving Scheckter in first and Villeneuve in second.
Scheckter, Villeneuve, and Laffite. Monza 1979
Before the start of the race, the Ferrari’s team manager told Gilles to disregard Scheckter’s status as the #1 driver and fight him for a better position, after all, both drivers had a good chance to win the championship.
From left to right: Jody Scheckter, Clay Regazzoni, and behind the bottle of champagne, Gilles Villeneuve. Monza, 1979.
Villeneuve chose to respect the hierarchy and didn’t challenge his teammate. Scheckter won the race and the driver’s title; Villeneuve finished second. That was a smashing victory for the Maranello team, on their home turf, but the race was also the only chance Villeneuve ever had to win an F-One championship.
1980 season
Villeneuve was the favourite to win the championship that year but the engineers at Maranello faced a very complicated situation: for 1980, the “ground effect” cars were allowed back to the grid and most of the teams developed new chassis for the season.
A “ground effect” car requires a big “air venturis” or air tunnels, on both sides of the car, all the way to the rear, and around the engine. For the teams running the narrow Ford-Cosworth V8, it was a relatively simple task to develop new chassis, but for Ferrari, running the extra-wide flat-12 engine, was impossible.
Ferrari was working on a much smaller 1.5 litre, turbocharged engine but it wasn’t ready yet, and the engineers had to deal with whatever they had available.
Gilles Villeneuve at Mont Tremblant Canadian GP. He finished the race in 5th place.
They came up with the T5, a semi-ground effect car with an overall performance way below the competitors. The season was a total disappointment for Ferrari, Gilles finished it in 14th and Scheckter in 19th.
1981 season
1981 was the first year of the Ferrari “flamethrower” turbo engine.
Jody Scheckter retired from professional racing at the end of the 1980 season, he was replaced by Didie Pirroni, a promising French driver, coming from Tyrrel.
Villeneuve was such an easy-going person, always nice with fans and reporters. He became the cool guy that everybody wanted to be around in the paddock. When Pirroni joined the team, Gilles was very welcoming: “(Villeneuve) had a little family at Ferrari but he made me welcome and made me feel at home overnight. He treated me as an equal in every way” – Didier Pirroni –
Gilles Villeneuve on the left and Didier Pirroni
Now Ferrari has two very different drivers, Villeneuve was more talented and faster than Pirroni but he was also too impulsive and sometimes erratic on track, on the other hand, Pirroni was calmer and more consistent.
Once again Ferrari let its drivers down, the new 126C wasn’t exactly new, most of the chassis design was a carryover from the year before. The new 1.5 litre, V6 turbocharged engine was able to produce almost 700 HP, making the car as fast as a rocket on a straight line, but very awkward on turns. This is how Villeneuve described the new Ferrari: “A hopeless fast red Cadillac”. “You put on new tires, and it is OK for four laps,” after that, forget it.”
This new Ferrari was a very difficult car to drive, to say the least, and the sheer talent of Villeneuve alone wouldn’t be enough to bring good results for the team. The Canadian only finished 6 out of 15 races of the season, closing the championship in 7th place; a better position than the previous year but still very disappointing.
Villeneuve, the winner of the 1981 Spanish Grand Prix.
Against all odds, Gilles brilliantly won two races in 1981: Monaco and Spain.
The 1981 season showed a much more seasoned Villeneuve. He proved able to maintain his cool, even under the tremendous pressure of driving an inferior machine. In several situations, he kept his impetuosity under control and drove like a master.
Villeneuve, Laffite, and Watson, pretty darn close! Spain GP 1981.
Villeneuve was ready to become a world champion; all he needed was a better car.
Still a stunt driver
Even if Villeneuve was more aware as a driver in 1981, one incident showed it was a work in progress. During that year’s Canadian GP, the world witnessed another classic Villeneuve move: the weather was cold and wet, and throughout the race, there were many minor collisions.
Wing? What wing?
Close to the end of the race, Villeneuve clipped the rear of Andretti’s Alfa Romeo, and the front wing of his Ferrari flipped and got stuck right in front of the cockpit, obscuring his vision. Doing the opposite of what any sensible driver would do, Gilles carried on, using his peripheral vision and knowledge of the circuit. The track Marshals didn’t black-flag Villeneuve, perhaps waiting for him to pull into the pits, which obviously didn’t happen. At some point, the damaged part fell off the car, and Gilles kept going, without the front wing, in the rain, finishing the race in the third position.
1982, the tragic year.
In this rare picture showing a “naked” 126C2, Gilles patiently waits for the mechanics to give their final touches.
Hopes were high at Ferrari for the next season. The team had hired Harvey Postlethwaite, a very experienced British engineer, who had been working on a new chassis since early 1981, and the car was ready for the 1982 season. The new 126C2 had a more reliable turbo-engine and much-improved handling. Harvey made some remarks about the predecessor car, the 126C, and Villeneuve’s performance in 1981:
“That car…had literally one-quarter of the downforce that, say Williams or Brabham had. It had a power advantage over the Cosworths for sure, but it also had massive throttle lag at that time. In terms of sheer ability, I think Gilles was on a different plane to the other drivers. To win those races, the 1981 GPs at Monaco and Jarama — on tight circuits — was quite out of this world. I know how bad that car was.”
Gilles Villeneuve, at the wheel of his Ferrari 126C2, with a double rear wing. It does look weird. Long Beach, 1982. Copyright: Rainer Schlegelmilch
1982 proved to be a dark year from the beginning. In Brazil, Villeneuve was leading the race when he lost control and spun on lap 30. In the USA, he finished third but was later disqualified after Ferrari equipped the cars with a “double” rear wing, which was considered a technical infringement.
There were rumors at the time that the once enchanting relationship with Ferrari had begun to deteriorate due to a lack of good results and Villeneuve’s unrelenting punishment of the team’s cars. To Enzo, his cars were much more than just machines, and Gilles had no finesse behind the wheel.
The Villeneuve-Pirroni feud.
The fast Imola circuit was the perfect environment for the turbo cars, Ferrari and Renault were the favorite teams to win the race. At the start, Rene Arnoux (Renault) jumped into P1, with Villeneuve and Pirroni following. At lap 44, Arnoux retired with a blown engine, leaving the two Ferraris leading the race.
It seemed the Maranello guys had the race in their pockets. The crew manager ordered to hold out “slow” signs from the pit wall to save fuel. Villeneuve, who was leading the race, understood that both drivers should slow down to avoid any fighting for the lead, but Pironi saw it as an opportunity. On lap 46, completely disregarding the orders, the Frenchman hit the gas and overtook Gilles. The battle for the lead, the very situation the team was trying to avoid, was now at full throttle, 3 laps later, Villeneuve passed his teammate, taking the P1 once again. They changed position a few more times; as Villeneuve slowed down each time he took the lead, Pironi would overtake him again. Eventually, Pironi won the race, and for Villeneuve, that was nothing less than betrayal. After the race, still enraged with the situation, he spoke to a reporter:
“I’ve declared war. Absolute war. Finishing second is one thing – I’d have been mad at myself for not being quick enough if he’d beaten me. But finishing second because the bastard steals it…”
Gilles vowed never to speak with Pirroni again. This animosity didn’t make things any better for either of them or for the team.
The end of a very short career.
Two weeks later, Villeneuve was blasting through the Zolder circuit during the last minutes of the qualifying session for the Belgian GP. He had already worn out his second set of super-sticky qualifying tires; he knew there was no time to go back to the pits for a fresh set. On his last flying lap, he failed to beat Pironi’s time, but instead of calling it quits and heading back to the pits, Gilles kept going flat out. After all, it was “total war” against his teammate, and he couldn’t accept this partial defeat.
Halfway through the lap, Villeneuve exited a chicane (that nowadays bears his name) into a fast left-hand turn. As he left it, he saw a much slower car ahead of him, right in the middle of the track. That car was Jochen Mass’s March.
In a split-second decision, Gilles chose to pass the car to the right, but at the same time, Mass veered his March to the same side, hoping to clear the left side of the track for the incoming Ferrari.
Villeneuve rear-ended Mass’s car at 200 km/h; his disintegrating Ferrari flipped over several times, throwing his body into the air and against the fence on the other side of the track. Watching the terrifying video, it seems like he was shot from a catapult.
Jochen Mass left his car and ran as fast as he could in a desperate attempt to do something. Arnoux and Warwick did the same. They removed the body from the fence and waited for the medical team to arrive. There was nothing else they could do. Pirroni was also there; he grabbed the badly damaged Villeneuve’s helmet and walked back to the pits.
Gilles was taken to the nearby hospital by helicopter. Once there, the doctors kept him alive until his wife, Joann, arrived and authorized the medical team to turn off the life support system.
It was the evening of Saturday, May 8, 1982, Enzo Ferrari told the team to pack the equipment and go back home.
The tragedies didn’t end at Zolder that year. Riccardo Paletti also lost his life in an accident at the start of the Canadian GP, and Didier Pirroni survived a horrible crash during the qualifying session for the German GP. Still, his injuries ended his Formula One career.
The Legend
Villeneuve’s meager numbers never prevented the fans from idolizing him; for the Tifosi, he is as much a hero as if he had won a world championship.
The three-times world champion Niki Lauda, said during an interview in 2001, that Villeneuve was “the craziest devil I ever came across in Formula-One”.
The drivers, at the time, had mixed feelings about the Canadian; some considered him just an inconsequential daredevil, while others saw him as a champion in the making.
Villeneuve and Scheckter
Perhaps Jody Scheckter has better words to define Gilles: “I always worked very well with Gilles. We had an honest and open relationship, which was part of our success. There was no bullshit: if he made an adjustment and went quicker, he’d tell me and I would tell him. That’s what kept us in such a good relationship and was part of us winning the championship“. Jody thinks Villeneuve was honest to the point of being naive, perhaps that is the reason Villeneuve was so disappointed with Pirroni. Sheckter also thinks the crazy driver persona was staged: “I don’t think he tried to do things that put him in uncalculated danger. I think from that point of view he was a responsible driver. He always had this image of being crazy, and he wasn’t really. He was only crazy when he wanted to be, it was his image”.
We like to think that had the tragedy not struck that day, Gilles would have inevitably become World Champion, driving a Ferrari or any other car.
Gilles, his wife Joann and Jacques, at the Formula Atlantic paddock, 1977..
It was Gilles’s greatest fan, his son Jacques, who carried on the family’s racing legacy. The little kid who so often accompanied his father to the racetracks became a very talented and accomplished driver.
He understood that fast laps and crazy stunts don’t win championships; points do. He won the 1995 Indianapolis 500 and the 1995 PPG Indy Car World Series, and in 1997, he became the first (and only to date) Canadian to win the Formula One driver’s world championship.
Despite his brilliant career, F-One fans just don’t remember Jacques as one of the greatest, like we remember Gilles. Perhaps, for us, fast laps and crazy stunts can be even more important than winning world titles.
Gilles Villeneuve was a one-of-a-kind race driver; he can’t be compared with anyone else. His legacy still lives on; the Circuit Notre Dame Island in Montreal, the home of the Canadian Grand Prix, was renamed Circuit de Gilles Villeneuve, right after his death. Generations of drivers have been paying their respects to Canada’s greatest race driver whenever they see the message painted at the starting line: “Salut Gilles.”
A few months ago, I started a series of posts called Catch of the Day, where I shared interesting (at least to me) pictures of cars I found on the streets.
But I also love collecting pictures of interesting machines I find on the corners of the internet. Although they have less merit to me since I am not the one who took them, they have, in one way or another, some significance.
Bay Street in the late 1920s, showing the City Hall.
My wife and I have been living like Gipsies for most of our lives, either by choice or necessity. We lived in half a dozen cities in three different countries. All of those cities left a permanent mark on us, and obviously, we have our faves. We both agree that Toronto is one of them.
To be honest, we lived in Markham, ON, which is about 40 minutes driving from Toronto (if the traffic is good). As much as possible, we would travel to the downtown area, park the car, and go for long walks to admire the classic and modern buildings, the beautiful harbourfront, and the city we call “first world Canada.”
Mr. Brian, a fellow blogger, suggested that I include recent pictures of Bay Street that I might have taken. It was a fantastic idea. He is a great photographer, don’t forget to check his blog: https://blhphotoblog.wordpress.com
These two pictures of Bay Street were taken in October 2022, when Estela and I traveled from Markham to Toronto by train.
Late night at the gas station. ⛽️
Unfortunately, I don’t know who took these beautiful black-and-white pictures, but I believe they were taken in the late 1920s. They are stunning, showcasing the photographer’s artistic talent and, clearly, his or her love for the city.
And, of course, in both pictures, the “classic machines” are a very important element.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the pictures as much as I have, and I’ll see you next time.
The love affair between celebrities and motorsports is a well-known fact. For some stars, it looks like their daytime job sole purpose is to provide means for their motorized hobbies.
The best examples are Steve McQueen and Paul Newman, who achieved greatness in both acting and racing.
Other contemporary examples include Patrick Dempsey, who started as an amateur driver and later became a team manager, and Keanu Reeves, a passionate bike enthusiast who loves riding classic Nortons and is a co-founder of Arch Motorcycles.
But before them, there was another Hollywood icon who literally lived and died for the need of speed, James Dean.
James Dean exemplifies how an actor’s image can overshadow his legacy. Dean’s acting career lasted only five years, but his talent combined with his good looks gained him some iconic roles. He starred in three major films: Rebel Without a Cause (1955), East of Eden (1955), and Giant (1956). In all of them, he portrayed a young, intense character who, with or without a cause, confronts the repressive American society of the 1950s. Dean quickly became the symbol of a generation of young people dissatisfied with the world they lived in. His characters, even unintentionally, helped pave the way for the liberation movements of the 1960s.
Passionate gearhead
James Dean ridding his favorite bike, a 1955 Triumph TR5 (500CC), nicknamed: ‘Dean’s Dilemma”. This was the last bike he owned before his death.
Dean’s passion for speed started at a very young age. When he was 15, he got a 1947 CZ125 as a gift from his uncle. After that, he owned quite a few bikes, including a Royal Enfield, an Indian Warrior, and a couple of Triumphs. During this time, he earned the nickname “One Speed Dean.”
Dean’s first contact with a sports car happened when he sold the 1939 Chevy his father had given him and bought a used 1953 red MG-TD (pictured above). Some MG specialists claim the car is not a “TD.” Since I am unsure which car model is correct, I will leave it as is.
Racing as a hobby
Even if MG was a well-accepted brand among race drivers in the sports car arena, Dean decided it wasn’t the right choice to start his racing adventure.
After Hollywood began offering him more important roles, money was no longer a problem. In March 1955, Dean traded his MG for a brand-new Porsche 356 Super Speedster (chassis 80126) from Competition Motors, a dealership specializing in sports/race cars, in Hollywood.
Within 10 days of buying the car, he had already put 1,000 miles in his Speedster, much of it on Mulholland Drive, where challenging curves along the coastal range crest attracted both amateur and experienced racers.
Dean chose the correct car to start his racing career. The “super” Speedster was designed for club racing, powered by a 70-horsepower, 1500cc air-cooled, flat-four pushrod “Super” engine. Even if nowadays we might have lawnmowers with more than 70 ponies, the Speedster was pretty fast for the 1950s standards.
Dean didn’t waste much time starting his new hobby. On the weekend of March 26-27, 1955, he was already competing in the Palm Springs Road Races. He won the production class race, qualifying him for the finals.
In the final race, among the veteran drivers he faced, there was a name destined to become a legend: Ken Miles, driving an MG Special. Dean finished the race in third place. However, Miles was later disqualified on a technicality, and Dean was bumped up to second. Not bad at all, considering this was his debut weekend at the tracks.
Dean and his Speedster, which already bears some battle scars.
Dean used his Porsche as a daily driver as well, and it wasn’t uncommon to see him behind the wheel, driving up and down the streets of Hollywood.
On May 1-2, 1955, he participated in the Minter Field Bakersfield, California, racing weekend. Dean entered the 1300-2000cc production and 750-1500cc modified race. He placed third behind Marion Playan in an MG Special and John Kunstle in a Panhard Devin. Although he finished third in the main event, he was first in his class.
His final race with the Speedster was at Santa Barbara on the Memorial Day weekend. He missed the Saturday Production car event because he was filming that day. He actually took part in a mixed race for modified and production cars on Sunday.
The 10-lap under-1500-cc mixed race was for less experienced drivers. Dean started in the eighteenth position but worked his way up to 4th by the fifth lap. Pushing hard to make up time, Dean over-revved his engine and blew a piston, preventing him from finishing the race.
As Dean became more involved in his hobby, in July, he purchased a brand-new 1955 Ford Country Squire station wagon to carry tools and spare parts and to tow his Porsche to the races.
The Little Bastard
The shooting of Dean’s last movie, Giant, began in June 1955. Understandably so, Warner Brothers Studios barred him from racing during the production of the movie.
After completing his scenes and the movie entered post-production, he was free to return to racing.
By this point, Dean was eager to advance in his hobby. One day, he saw another Porsche parked outside Competition Motors. It was the company’s newest racing machine, the 550 Spyder.
The Spyder was not just a sports car; it was a true, purebred racecar with a lightweight aluminum body mounted on a tubular spaceframe. It was powered by a 1.5 liter, dual overhead camshaft, air-cooled, flat-four engine capable of producing 110 hp at 7,800 rpm.
In the 550, Porsche relocated the engine to the “mid-ship” position, considerably improving weight distribution and handling.
Dean was blown away by the car, and he quickly traded his trusty 356 Super Speedster in for the new racer. He was going to put it into action at the Salinas Road Race on 1st October 1955, just ten days after he bought it.
The tragic end
Dean took the Spyder to the customizer and pinstriper Dean Jeffries, who painted the “130” numerals and the iconic “Little Bastard” script across the rear cowling. The red leather bucket seats and red tail stripes were original. The tail stripes were a Porsche touch to all the Spyders ordered for racing.
There are a few theories about the origin of the car’s name, but the most believable one is that Bill Hickman, a friend and stunt driver, called Dean “Little Bastard,” while Dean called Hickman “Big Bastard.” Dean believed the nickname would be perfect for “christening” his new race car.
The 550 was so new that the engine hadn’t even been properly broken in, and his mechanic, Rolf Wütherich, a certified Porsche technician, suggested Dean drive the car to Salinas instead of towing it.
They set out on Friday, September 30th, in the early afternoon. Dean was at the wheel with Wütherich riding shotgun. Bill Hickman was driving the Ford station wagon.
The group had coffee and donuts at the Hollywood Ranch Market on Vine Street across from Competition Motors before leaving around 1:15 p.m. They stopped for gas at a Mobil station on Ventura Boulevard at Beverly Glen Boulevard in Sherman Oaks at around 2:00 p.m, supposedly the location of the iconic picture above.
Trying to “smooth” the engine as much as possible, Dean floored it as soon as he hit the highway. It didn’t take long for both Dean and Bill Hickman to be pulled over by the California Highway Patrol near Bakersfield and fined for speeding.
At Blackwells Corner, the team paused briefly for refreshments and encountered fellow racers Lance Reventlow and Bruce Kessler, who were also heading to Salinas in Reventlow’s Mercedes-Benz 300 SL coupe (pictured above). As Reventlow and Kessler were departing, they and Dean’s group arranged to meet for dinner in Paso Robles.
Approximately 5:45 p.m., a two-tone black and white 1950 Ford Tudor was headed east on US 466, just west of the junction near Shandon. Its driver, 23-year-old Navy veteran Donald Turnupseed, turned left onto SR 41 headed north toward Fresno. As Turnupseed’s Ford crossed the center line, Dean—clearly recognizing the imminent crash—tried to steer the Spyder, but it was too late; the two cars collided almost head-on.
Dean was driving at an estimated 137 km/h (85 mph). The severity of the impact sent the much heavier Ford broad-sliding 39 feet (12 m) down US 466 in the opposing lane. Wütherich was catapulted from the mangled Porsche and landed on the pavement. He was seriously injured but survived the accident. Donald Turnupseed also escaped with minor injuries. Tragically, James Dean remained trapped inside the car; he sustained a broken neck and numerous internal and external fatal injuries. An ambulance rushed him and Wütherich to Paso Robles War Memorial Hospital, but Dean was pronounced dead upon arrival at 6:20 pm.
The tragic death of James Dean caused a commotion not only in the USA but also around the world. He was way too young, only 24 years old. Dean was at the early stages of what would have been a huge Hollywood career. He was taken from this world even before the release of his most famous movie, Rebel Without a Cause.
James Dean became an even more iconic figure after his death. His image evolved into a symbol of the rebellious 1950s. All three of his major films have been preserved in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress for their “cultural, historical, or aesthetic significance.”
But he was more than a great actor. He also had a natural talent for racing. He greatly enjoyed the hobby and felt proud of his success. At a certain point in his life, he admitted that, “racing is the only time I feel whole.”
The dark irony.
The 1950s marked the rise of the American hot rod scene. Suddenly, a whole generation of young people had access to the cheap thrills of speed. As a result, the country saw an increase in fatal accidents due to reckless driving. The authorities tried several methods to warn those kids about the dangers of speed, including a series of educational short films.
While working on the movie Giant, Dean filmed a short public-service announcement with actor Gig Young for the National Safety Council. It featured Dean talking about how excessive speed on the highway may be more dangerous than racing on the track. At the end of the segment, instead of reading the scripted phrase “The life you save may be your own,” Dean ad-libbed the line as “The life you might save might be mine.”
The curse of the Little Bastard.
The mythology surrounding the life and death of James Dean only grew stronger in the years that followed. A series of mysterious events related to the destroyed Porsche 550 led to the belief that the car was cursed.
TheLittle Bastard had caused upset almost from the moment Dean bought it. A week before the fatal crash, Dean met British actor Alec Guinness in Los Angeles. Guinness had an ominous feeling on seeing the Porsche and would later write in his diary: “The sports car looked sinister to me . . . exhausted, hungry, feeling a little ill-tempered in spite of Dean’s kindness, I heard myself saying in a voice I could hardly recognize as my own: -Please never get in it. . . if you get in that car, you will be found dead in it by this time next week.-“
After the accident, the Spyder was declared a total loss by the insurance company. Still, since it was an exotic European car, it was quickly sold and would continue to cause carnage wherever it–or even parts of it–went.
Dr. William Eschrich purchased the Porsche from a salvage yard in Burbank and dismantled it for parts. Eschrich installed the Porsche’s engine into his Lotus IX race car (pictured above), then lent the transmission and suspension components to fellow doctor and racer Troy McHenry. Eschrich crashed the Lotus at the 1956 Pomona sports-car races, but fortunately, it was a minor crash, and he survived.
Sadly, McHenry (pictured above) wasn’t as fortunate. During the same race, he lost control of his 550, crashing it into a tree, and he was killed instantly. So, the “curse of Little Bastard” grew stronger.
The remains of the “Little Bastard” in storage. Location unknown.
The 550 empty shell was then bought by the self-proclaimed “King of Kustoms,” George Barris. He promised to rebuild the car to its former glory, but it was beyond repair. Barris loaned the Porsche to the Los Angeles chapter of the National Safety Council, and from 1957 to 1959, it went on a tour of car shows, movie theaters, and bowling alleys across the country. In March of 1959, while in storage in Fresno, the car mysteriously caught fire. It suffered remarkably little damage—two melted tires. Fortunately, the fire didn’t spread to other vehicles in storage. Meanwhile, Barris had sold a pair of tires from the 550, and both reportedly blew at the same time; the driver lost control and ended up in a ditch.
This is the last known picture of the “Little Bastard.” The car looks somewhat less damaged than on the day of the accident. Perhaps it received minor repairs, making it easier to transport
There are other unconfirmed stories about Little Bastard’s sinister life. The car is said to have fallen from its display while on view in Sacramento, injuring a bystander. The Spyder also allegedly fell on and killed George Barkus, the driver who took it to a road-safety expo. Finally, the Porsche is rumored to have vanished from a sealed boxcar in 1960 while traveling from Miami to Los Angeles. Some believe that Barris, always the showman, created most of the stories to maintain the car’s mystique.
In 2005, the Volo Auto Museum in Illinois offered one million dollars for information on the Little Bastard’s whereabouts, but so far, nothing has been discovered. With Barris himself now gone and no sign of the car for over 60 years, the conclusion of this haunting story may never be revealed.
After a 22-year hiatus, MotoGP returned to South America with the 2026 Brazilian Grand Prix, scheduled as the second round of the 2026 MotoGP™ season (March 20-22). Qualifying: Fabio Di Giannantonio secured pole position for the 2026 Brazilian Grand Prix, topping the timings in a dramatic session as MotoGP returned to the country for the first…
No, I never thought I would publish a post featuring a Tesla, after all, they are the opposite of what we would call “classic machine”, but I believe this catch of the day has some relevance to the dangerous times we are living in.
First of all, it is impossible to talk about Tesla without mentioning the guy who produces them, Elon Musk.
Mr. Musk has a massive ego. He always ensured his image as a successful industrialist was strongly linked to all his brands. He continually tries to project an aura of a super-cool, daring genius who could smoke marijuana in front of cameras without caring what people might think, and, to some extent, it worked.
Steve Jobs did something similar, and he helped sell many Apple products. So it is fair to say that Musk also helped sell a lot of Teslas.
It’s interesting how we, mere mortals, are always looking for heroes to guide our actions. Personally, I never liked the guy or his cars, and I will not list my reasons here; this is not the purpose of this post. However, at times, I had to acknowledge his boldness. Watching the SpaceX reusable rocket booster land vertically, all by itself, is beyond cool. Also, when he put his personal Tesla Roadster into space in 2018, it was “sci-fi”- level cool.
As a brand, Tesla was a success. It was, in one way or another, the resurgence of the American Automobile. Finally, a US automaker was leading global sales, even if its EV market share is pretty small. Tesla was also the chosen stock for “investors” to manipulate, inflating its real value many times over. So very often, I read in the news: “Teslais now more valuable than Ford”. Well, it is true only if you are counting imaginary money.
Tesla has become the go-to car for trendy people who want to save the world by driving a zero-emissions vehicle. Supporting my point, the brand has been the best-selling in California for years in a row.
Cybertruck
On November 21, 2019, Mr. Musk and a select group of Tesla staff hosted an event to unveil the most anticipated Tesla yet, the Cybertruck.
The event was a bit embarrassing. In an attempt to demonstrate the vehicle’s supposedly “indestructible” armor glass, Tesla design chief Franz von Holzhausen threw a metal ball at the driver’s side window, shattering it completely. Following the first failure, Musk asked him to try again on the rear window. The same thing happened, and the second window shattered as well, prompting Musk to swear on stage and joke, “Room for improvement.” This little hiccup didn’t prevent 200.000 orders from being placed that day.
Elon Musk announced that Cybertruck would launch in late 2021 with a starting price of US$39,900. The release date was later delayed to 2022, and subsequently to late 2023, with an updated base price of US$60,990.
The pick-up truck market in North America is highly profitable but also has the most traditional customers. The Big Three, Ford, GM, and Chrysler, have been using the same recipe for building trucks for decades, and it seems to be what customers like. And yet, Mr. Musk decided to create a very controversial vehicle to compete in that arena.
The Cybertruck has been a love-or-hate vehicle since day one. It was not designed for the usual pickup truck buyer. It looks like a car that came out of a “B” sci-fi movie. It is fast, no doubt about it; there are quite a few videos on the internet showing it shaming all sorts of sports cars in drag races.
The most common complaints about Cybertruck are the limited off-road capability and weird bed design that make hauling stuff a bit complicated.
Also, the tie rods, along with control arms and spindles, are a constant headache during “somewhat minor” off-roading, suggesting they are a limiting factor in the truck’s ruggedness.
The Cybertruck’s panels are made of stainless steel, which enhances the vehicle’s futuristic look. It is also very strong and doesn’t rust easily.
While dent-resistant and rigid (it said it can stop a 9mm bullet), the panels are prone to surface staining and rust spots. Some owners have opted to wrap the truck in coloured vinyl, making it easy to keep it “clean.”
The Cybertruck is an extremely polarized vehicle. Most of the opinions you hear about it are either from passionate fans, exaggerating its qualities or from passionate haters, exaggerating its flaws. Since the vehicle is not of interest to me, I didn’t research it much.
The evil genius
So much joy!!! Musk jumps at a Trump rally.
Elon Musk was open about using his image as a marketing tool for his products, and it worked well until the thin veneer of cool-guy appeal began to crack.
Mr. Musk became one of the most prominent supporters of Donald Trump’s quest for reelection in 2024. With an almost infinite supply of money, he bought Twitter for $44 billion on October 27, 2022, with the sole intention of making it a political platform for the incoming elections.
Trump was banned from Twitter in 2021 for widespread misinformation and for violating Twitter’s “Glorification of Violence” policy. When Muks bought the platform, he changed its name to “X” and loosened Twitter’s regulations on hate speech and misinformation. As a result, “X” became a safe haven for haters and white supremacists.
Musk didn’t bother to share his controversial political views with the world. He public supported the German far-right political party, Alternative for Germany (AfD), which has faced accusations of using neo-Nazi rhetoric and has sections officially classified as right-wing extremist by German authorities.
On January 20, 2025, while speaking at a rally celebrating U.S. President Donald Trump’s second inauguration, Elon Musk, clearly saluted the crowd twice, making the infamous nazi saluting.
But the worst was yet to come. Elon Musk was nominated by Trump as the head of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), a non-governmental initiative focused on slashing federal spending and reducing bureaucracy.
During the first couple of months of the Trump administration, Mr. Musk, accompanied by a small team of agents, often including personnel from his own companies, stormed federal agencies both physically and digitally, scrutinizing budgets, stealing files, and dismissing thousands of federal workers.
By mid-2025, DOGE, under Elon Musk’s leadership, had been associated with the firing or displacement of 260,000 to 280,000 federal employees and contractors across 27 agencies.
Those firings, called “slash and burn,” were carried out without proper study or consideration. In some cases, many workers had to be called back to prevent an agency from shutting down. More than just ruining lives, a lot of sensitive information about the government and its citizens ended up in the hands of a bunch of far-right clowns. What they are doing with it, we don’t yet.
Conveniently, Mr. Musk focused on federal agencies investigating his companies for questionable business practices.
In February 2025, Musk attended the Conservative Political Action Conference while brandishing a chainsaw given to him by Argentine President Javier Milei. The chainsaw was supposed to symbolize the cuts on the government’s extravagant expenditure. But, for the sane Americans, it was a symbol of a nazi lunatic beheading federal workers.
The chaotic backlash
If you don’t like a corrupt politician, the only way to hurt him/her is to vote for someone else in the next election. That is the beauty of democracy. But how can you reach a corrupt billionaire who was invited into the administration?
Nazis always lose.
Some extremists found a way. Since Mr. Musk’s image is so deeply embedded in every Tesla, vandalizing one might feel as satisfying as breaking his nose.
Suddenly, incidents of cowardly vandalism targeting Tesla cars and dealerships erupted worldwide.
From minor rude acts towards owners, like “flipping the bird,” to serious actions like setting cars on fire, everything seemed fair game.
17 cars were set on fire in a Tesla dealership near Rome, Italy
Fearing not only the loss of property but also their own lives, Tesla owners started keeping their cars in the garage, but for those who couldn’t afford it, they found a rather silly approach: disguising their vehicle.
Finally, this long story comes to the picture that inspired me to write this episode of Catch of the Day. A couple of weeks ago, I spotted this Cybertruck, wrapped in black vinyl, and rebadged as a Ford pickup.
I couldn’t resist taking this picture. For the first time, I saw a rebadged Tesla, just like the many others I had seen and laughed at online. Oddly enough, it looks better than the original one.
Conclusion
Following some disagreement with Trump, Elon Musk left DOGE on May 30, 2025, appeasing the vandals’ ire.
But the consequences of Mr. Musk’s involvement with the Trump administration aren’t going to fade away. Tesla experienced a significant decline in sales in 2025 and early 2026, prompting the companyto cut production of the Model S and Model X.
Our Brazilian photo correspondent, Sérgio Devens Florentino, has once again amazed me with a stunning collection of pictures from another of his adventures.
This time, he visited the charming little town of Carambeí.
The city is situated in Paraná state, in the southern part of Brazil. It was established on April 4, 1911, by a group of Dutch immigrants.
The city’s pride and joy is the Parque Histórico de Carambeí, the country’s largest open-air museum.
The museum’s purpose is to preserve the rich Dutch cultural heritage. Inside the park, visitors can walk through a typical Dutch village from the beginning of the 20th century.
This is the replica of the 1910s Carambeí train station.
The majority of the Dutch immigrants who arrived in Brazil were Protestants, which helped to disseminate this faith throughout the country.
Inside the classroom.
The farm’s barn. 🚜
This elusive residence of the park doesn’t like to be photographed.
The tractor Museum 🚜
One of the most interesting attractions of the Carambeí Historical Park is the tractor museum.
The Dutch, similar to most European immigrants who arrived in Brazil, were farmers.
In the land they received from the government (often for free), the soil was rich and fertile, allowing them to succeed in farming and the dairy industry.
The farmers have immense respect, pride, and love for the machinery that supports them in their daily routines.
Naturally, when it’s time to send a tractor into retirement, it rarely goes to the junk yard.
The museum provided local farmers with the perfect place to showcase their beloved vintage farm equipment.
Some tractors were restored, while others still bear the scars of their service.
Farmall tractors were built by International-Harvester of USA.
Ford tractors were quite popular at the time.
Nothing runs like a Deere
Some of the brands I have never seen before. Like this, Allis-Chalmers.
Hanomag (Hannoversche Maschinenbau AG) is another agricultural machinery brand that was totally new to me.
It is a renowned German manufacturer founded in 1835, becoming a major producer of durable diesel tractors from the 1920s to the 1970s. Known for pioneering diesel technology in farming.
Thanks to these pictures, I have learned a bit about the Dutch immigration and farming tractors.
If you haven’t been living under a rock for the past 40 years, chances are you listened to at least one song performed by the Australian rock’n roll band Men at Work at some point in your life. But if you are an old timer like me, who was young in the 1980s, you probably listened to their songs a hundred times or more.
Men at Work
It is fair to say that Men at Work helped to put Australia in the spotlight during the 1980s. Their songs, loaded with humor and wit, opened up the gates of curiosity about their homeland. For me, Australia was a mystical tropical paradise, home to cool, talented people. Obviously, the pictures I saw in the surf magazines at the time helped to create this aura.
The story of one of the most beloved rock’n roll bands of the 1980s began in 1978, when the frontman, Colin Hay, formed an acoustic duo with Ron Strykert and began to play in pubs and small venues in Melbourne.
The Men at Work was officially born in 1979 when drummer Jerry Speiser and Greg Ham (flute, saxophone, and keyboards) joined the band.
Conquering the world.
The original Australian cover was in black and white, but they decided to add color to the cover sold around the world.
On November 09, 1981, the band released their first studio album, Business as Usual, featuring singles that would become part of any 1980s cassette tape compilation: Who Can It Be Now, Be Good Johnny, and the one we are focusing on today, Down Under.
Men at Work in concert. Early 1980s
The album was a massive hit from day one. Men at Work became the first Australian artists to reach the No. 1 album and no. 1 single (Down Under) on the United States Bilboard charts, and stayed among the top 200 for 15 weeks. They also achieved similar success in Australia, New Zealand, and the UK.
Business as Usual received several awards and sold over 13.000.000 copies worldwide, and propelled the band to receive the Grammy for Best New Artist in 1983. Suddenly, Men at Work and the country they came from were on everybody’s mind.
Down Under
The song, which became the band’s most popular single, was originally released in 1979 as the B -side to their first single, “Keypunch Operator.” The record was released locally and Colin Hay and Ron Strykert covered the expenses with their own money.
The cover of the Down Under single.
Down Under was part of Hay/Strykert’s repertoire since the time they played together at pubs in Melbourne. This early version has a slightly slower tempo and different arrangements, more aligned with the folk/reggae roots of the composers.
The version we all know was released in 1981, when the band signed a contract with Columbia, as the second single from their debut studio album, Business as Usual.
The band skillfully restructured the song, adding more instruments and increasing the tempo. As a result, Down Under offered a new take on the pop/rock energy of the era, remaining quintessentially 1980s but with a signature that was uniquely Men at Work.
The band was also receptive to various experimental ideas. Colin Hay noted that drummer Jerry Speiser often played with bottles of beer tuned to different water levels. The members insisted he should use his creation to play the song’s opening tunes. Speiser just added a few touches of percussion from his drum kit to the bottle’s sound and voila!
Lyrics
The lyrics depict an Australian man traveling the globe and meeting people who are interested in his home country. The story is based in part on Hay’s own travels abroad, including a prominent reference to a Vegemite sandwich, inspired by an encounter with a tall baker from Brussels who emigrated from Australia.
Often regarded as simply funny, the song is full of meaning. The words “where women glow” symbolize the beauty of Australia, with its unspoiled beaches drenched in sunlight. But the words “…and men plunder” mean the greedy developers who are profiting from the destruction of the country’s wilderness.
The phrase “where beer does flow, and men chunder” refers to the Australian unconditional love for beer since “chunder” is slang for vomiting.
Hay once described the intention behind the lyrics:
The chorus is really about the selling of Australia in many ways, the overdevelopment of the country. It was a song about the loss of spirit in that country. It’s really about the plundering of the country by greedy people. It is ultimately about celebrating the country, but not in a nationalistic way and not in a flag-waving sense. It’s really more than that.
Copyright lawsuit
The words in the lyrics: “Can’t you hear the thunder? You better run, you better take cover.” serve as a reference to troubling times that are about to come, and you better be prepared. It seems like the composers actually predicted the future quite literally.
The Down Under intro, performed by Speiser on beer bottles, wasn’t the only clever addition to the song. During recording, Greg Ham experimented with a short flute solo played throughout the track. Producer Peter McIan recalls this as a “musical joke” that seamlessly fits into the song like magic.
The only problem was that the joyful notes on the solo weren’t Ham’s creation; it was part of someone else’s song.
Marion Sinclair
The whole flute part in the recording was found to be inspired by the Australian classic “Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree,” written by Marion Sinclair in 1932. She wrote it to participate in a song contest promoted by the Girl Guides Association, Australia’s equivalent ofthe Girl Scouts. After winning the contest, printed copies of “Kookaburra” were distributed to many scout groups throughout Australia, New Zeeland, UK, and United States, making the song a campfire favorite during that time.
After Ms. Sinclair died in 1988, the rights to the song were transferred to the South Australian Public Trustee. In 1990, the copyright to “Kookaburra” was sold to Larrikin Music, a company focused in folk and traditional Australian music, and the proceeds were donated to charity.
The entire plagiarism incident probably would’ve gone unnoticed if it weren’t for a specific episode of a music quiz TV show called Spicks and Specks, aired in 2007. The host played the Down Under flute solo and asked: “Name the Australian nursery rhyme this riff has been based on, as well as the name of the man playing it?”
Among the six celebrities contestants, only one had the correct answer: “Kookaburra Sits in The Old Gum Tree”.
The answer was a surprise, not only for the contestants but also for everyone who was watching the show. It didn’t take long for the Larrikinheadquarters started to receive dozens of emails and phone calls about the possible copyright infringement.
The Kookaburra is a pretty simple song, with only 4 bars; the flute portion of Down Under borrows 2 of them. In other words, Men at Work copied half of the song. Larrikin Music found significant grounds for plagiarism, and in June 2008, 28 years after the recording’s release, the company sued the band and EMI Australia.
On February 4, 2010, Federal Judge Peter Jacobson ruled in favor of Larrikin Music, stating that a substantial portion of the “Kookaburra” song had been copied in both of Down Under recordings, in 1979 and 1981, and that their rights to the song had therefore been violated. Larrikin Music felt confident the case was in the basket and asked for between 40 and 60 percent of the total proceeds from Down Under.
After several months of case analysis, on July 6, 2010, Judge Jacobson ruled that Larrikin was entitled to 5% of the mechanical copyright royalties for the period from 2002 onward.
In October 2011, the band sent an appeal to the High Court of Australia, but the judges refused to proceed.
The aftermath
Ultimately, the federal judge concluded that Hay, Strykert, and Ham did not act with malicious intent when using the Kookaburra notes but that the infringement nevertheless exists. They aimed to add an extra touch of Australian identity to DownUnder by including part of this beloved kids’ song.
Larrikin Music ended up receiving around AUS 100.000,00, which is a fraction of what they wanted, but EMI Australia spent 4.5 million in legal expenses. Hay, Strykert, and Ham also spent considerable sums during the 3 years the case dragged on in court.
Warren Fahey, the founder of Larrikin Music (pictured above), tried to convince the new administration to drop the case, but since he had sold the company ten years before, there wasn’t much he could do. He insisted that “Kookaburra” was a gift to the country since Ms. Sinclair had never sought profit from the song and that there was no harm in a portion of it being incorporated into another song about Australia.
It was proved in court that the composers knew that portion of Down Under was borrowed from Kookaburra. It was brought to the court attention that at some gigs from around 2002 onwards, Colin Hay would sing the lyrics of Kookaburra over the flute solo.
But the biggest proof is in the video of “Down Under,” which shows Ham playing the flute while sitting in a tree. The connection between the two songs was never meant to be hidden; on the contrary, it was meant to be noticed. Perhaps the band assumed that such an old song was in the public domain and never worried about copyright infringement.
Sadly, Greg Ham was the person most profoundly impacted by the entire situation. He had to sell his house to cover legal expenses. His dire financial situation also forced him to begin teaching music lessons to make ends meet.
Greg Ham
Even though Colin Hay and Ron Strykert are the composers of Down Under, it was Greg Ham’s name that appeared the most in the legal proceedings. In the public’s eyes, he was the one who dragged the band into this huge mess.
Ham took the veredic particulary hard, saying: “It has destroyed so much of my song. It will be the way the song is remembered and I hate that. I’m terribly disappointed that that’s the way I’m going to be remembered – for copying something.”
In the following years, Ham started to drink heavily, and some friends and family said he developed drug addiction.
Police arrive at the house where the body of Greg Ham was found.
His health deteriorated rapidly, and on 19 April 2012, he was found dead in his home, in Melbourne suburb of Carlton North.
While initial reports mentioned “unexplained” circumstances and some sources suggested a heart attack or issues related to addiction, his death was confirmed and deemed not suspicious by police.
Friends and family described Ham as a terrific musician and a kind, lovely person. He was 58 years old when he died.
Ham’s death was the last and saddest chapter of this unfortunate series of events.
“Kookaburra” and “Down Under” were composed for very different reasons, yet they both have an intriguing similarity: they oppose greed. Ironically, both songs became entangled in a legal dispute involving millions of dollars.
Men at Work broke up in 1986, but Colin Hay and Greg Ham reunited again between 1996 and 2002 for some live concerts around the world.
Colin Hay in concert. 2025.
After Ham’s death, Hay could have chosen to bury Down Under, but he decided not to. In his busy solo career and as a member of the Ring Starr & His All Starr Band, he never stopped playing the song. Down Under became bigger than him and the band. It became the unofficial Australian anthem.
But above all, each live performance is a tribute to his late friend.
Notes of the editor.
Here are some interesting details that didn’t make the final cut:
Colin Hay was born in Scotland. He immigrated to Australia with his family when he was 14.
The Aussies refer to the VW Transporter as “Kombi”, the same way as we, Brazilians, do. It is short for Kombinationskraftwagen (combination vehicle).
It is easy to explain the passion we, Brazilians, feel for the VW Beetle. The car was fundamental to the motorization and industrialization of Brazil, being the best-selling car in the country for 23 consecutive years (1959-1982).
“A car you can sell to a friend and you won’t loose the friend”
Produced nationally from 1959 onwards, it consolidated Volkswagen, boosted the automotive industry, offered toughness for the roads of the time, and became a cultural symbol of accessibility and reliability. It was the car that taught us how to drive.
For us, Portuguese speakers, the word Volkswagen was too complicated to pronounce. We initially shortened it to Volks, but German-speaking immigrants in Southern Brazil pronounced it ‘folks,’ and eventually, the car became known simply as Fusca. In 1983, the Brazilian Volkswagen adopted the nickname as the car’s official name.
Enthusiasts will discover unique ways to show their passion for the car, such as the owner of this pub in Aracaju, the capital of Sergipe state, who turned a VW Fusca into a beer tap machine.
My dad took this picture back in March 2024 while traveling along the northeast coast of Brazil.
Dad knew I would love this picture. After all, I am a big fan of both, beer and Fusca.
Judging by some details I see in the pic, I believe the car must be an early 1980s model. It looks straight, and also has a nice set of Superlite style wheels.
The idea is not entirely new, but some people will choose a more convenient Volkswagen model to transform into a rolling bar, like the one above.
I hope you have enjoyed this catch of the day. I know, it would be much more fun if we could be actually there, enjoying a beer and having good conversation.
The Classic Machines 