That Time With The … First Ferrari Of My Life

14 August 2016 Redazione News, Stories, Supercars Lounge

FERRARI F430 SCUDERIA

by Alessandro Marrone

This time I have no problem losing my driving license. Never mind speed limits or common sense, because life is made up of moments and when you are holding a steering wheel with the famous Prancing Horse on it, you feel like in another dimension. You can also cheer for McLaren, but the thrill you feel when your right foot increases its pressure on the throttle is something unparalleled. That sound, that deep roar emitted by the two central pipes, are the soundtrack of one of the most beautiful moments of your life and you can’t think at anything else that is better than enjoying these moments, so intense that fly away like leaves taken away by the wind. The excitement ceases its mind blistering at the precise instant when the engine idles and you are standing still at an intersection, target of people who obviously have immediately recognized the most typical shapes of a Ferrari – low, sleek, loud and especially RED. The F430 Scuderia is one of those cars that wants to be treated with confidence, a beautiful woman of whom you’ll love not only her good qualities, but also her defects, aware that you won’t know her as much as you should. Hands firmly on the steering wheel, look at the Horse (yes, it’s still there) and a sure push on the accelerator. The needle of the rev counter runs quickly, just like the decibels that are reaching my ears with a music that first starts low and then becomes more serious and acute, stronger and more deafening.
Outside sun is hot, it’s summer and it’s a great excuse to drive with the windows completely down, wanting to amplify at best the heavy metal stream that comes out of the crazy V8 positioned right behind me. Inside it’s all bedlam, including carbon fiber and alcantara, lightweight brushes and an unfinished floor, deliberately bare and devoid of all comfort. The seats wrap around you like a mother would with her child and safety belts press you on them, with no possibility of slipping (and provoking some derision, when you have to try your best for dealing with motorway’s tolls). But this does not matter, because attention is focused on what’s ahead, on the steering wheel and pedals. The roads are too short and busy, I can’t pull two gears that I’ve already reached the car in front and it is a continuous search for a few corners more, some strip of asphalt that would enshrine an experience of incredibly intimate drive. The g’box is very fast and shoot one after the other the required gears, brakes are outstanding and after a while I’m able to use them the proper way, but what is most surprising is the desire to go fast and, above all, the ability to deal with roads in not perfect conditions, without the slightest uncertainty. The F430 Scuderia is the most powerful version of the excellent F430, but driving both you understand that you are facing two completely different cars. The Scuderia is a weapon, not a car. The Scuderia is that devil on your shoulder urging you to make fun of good manners, education (also that of the road) and take you to not want to share with anyone this kind of emotions.
Things are becoming a personal matter, you will be jealous of all this pleasure – it’s all so sinful. Imagine being in the Garden of Eden and to ruin the lawn with some donuts, leading to the redline that tachometer with the yellow bottom and unleashing to the ground the 503 horses of this naturally aspirated V8. Where the rules are rewritten, and all the men in suits are drinking a lot of numbers and statistics, the F430 Scuderia brings tangible and measurable facts with goose bumps and stiffness that your butt feels the moment you think you’re a racing driver and start playing a little ‘too much with the weights, sliding the back of the car just enough to convince you that some saint is a friend of yours. If I had to choose a car to drive for the rest of my life, it would be a F430 Scuderia, no ifs or buts – you can’t avoid it, and after having driven it you are no longer able to stay away from it, but unfortunately you will have to get used to that. What remains are those feelings, knowing that the first Ferrari will be never forgotten, especially if it is as special as the Scuderia. And then you realize that fairy tales exist, and that certain cars are able to make you live ‘em in the real world. At a distance of 5 or 6 years, I am at the computer writing my first experience at the wheel of a Ferrari, and I lived again those moments as if they had happened yesterday. I heard in my head that king of the jungle roar and experienced the thrill of feeling the owner of a V8 born in Maranello, son of a rich heritage of success, heroes and legends. Ferraris are good for the heart, and when you drive them for the first time then – is a bit ‘like being born again.

Ferrari F355

by Antonio Iafelice

When the Ferrari F355 was first introduced in 1994 I fell in love with it right away. I remember seeing it for the first time in a dedicated review during an evening tv news, and from that moment on I never stopped thinking about how it would be driving it. It was beautiful (and for me it still is) with that elegant and sporty line which at the same time was winking to the shapes of the recent past. It was technologically advanced thanks to some inspired solutions taken straight from the Formula 1, such as the flat bottom and the innovative sequential gearbox with paddles on the steering wheel, but its soul was not even remotely governed by electronics. The F355 for me was the last real Ferrari closing an era and the first that I loved viscerally. Only several years later, fate has served to me on a silver plate the keys to give life to what had become over time my deep dream. In this case the keys were those of a red F355 with biscuit colored interior. I was so excited to see it a few meters from me, especially because this time I knew that I would eventually driven it. I could finally touch all the details that had once made me fall in love with it: the romantic hideaway headlights, the large air vents embedded in the side panels, the small vertical rear window between the fins that gently go down toward the tail and the classic double rear circular headlights. I remember taking three steps back as if to say “is it really it?”. The answer was even more obvious than the classic red color of Maranello’s supercars. In a moment memories and expectations had crowded my mind and the long awaited moment to realize my dream was finally here.
I opened the door by putting my left hand inside the large air intakes which tore that so curvy side and I lowered myself into the car, finally sitting on a seat finished in soft Connolly leather. I clenched the steering wheel as if to say “you are mine at last!” and turned on the powerful engine: the V8 repaid me by giving voice to all of its 380 hp and from the four exhausts came an unmistakable melody. I turned on the headlights which, rising from the bonnet line, immediately gave me a view of times gone by, but my eyes were immediately caught by the historic “H” cage of the manual gearbox. To dance the lever between a position and the other on a grid so well shaped represented a perfect match between the fear of making mistakes and the ability to do it right. I engaged first gear and I accelerated slowly to savor that magical moment. Initially in me there was no intention of reaching the 295 kph of top speed, nor to verify the high downforce guaranteed by the revolutionary flat bottom designed to give the best of itself at very high speeds. I simply wanted to savor the thrill of being behind the wheel of that dream. The emotion you feel in those moments reduces the time and enhances the sensations: the declared 4.7 seconds in the 0-100 kph in fact seemed far less and gave me a burst of incredible adrenaline. This happens when cold numbers of a data sheet can be proved on one’s skin riding each own emotions. The movements during the drive became increasingly fast and intense: playing with the wheel as coming out of corners, maneuvering increasingly faster the gear lever and experiencing the right “click” at each gear change, pushing the pedal of the accelerator always with a hint of decision more and clinging later to the brakes improving by far the feeling that I had established with the F355. At such times the driving pleasure was represented not so much by the speed itself, but rather from the pleasure of hearing a machine being dominated by me.
The F355 belonged at the time of the classic supercars of the “past” which require to be driven for real: it has not “manettinis” or gizmos with which you could vary its soul and therefore imposed an ongoing challenge between my driving style and its proud character not subjected to any exasperated electronic. The chills of emotion that the F355 gave me were just the result of a continuous comparison between my limit and its limit in which for having more pleasure I always had to force my limits further but without exceeding it and constantly trying to adapt to its nature. The F355 has not proved to be an extreme supercar, indeed appeared far more comfortable than expected and therefore less akin to a properly sports driving than I had imagined in my dreams. The steering assistance and the not overly stiff suspension had made “my” Ferrari closer to a grand tourer rather than a hard and pure supercar. I tried to “rape” it but it immediately made me realize that it was in command: in the most daring points it did not take long to transform a moment of sheer driving pleasure in shivering fear seconds. But maybe it is precisely this that makes my memory of the F355 so special today: its design, its driving technique with that fantastic manual gearbox, the power transmitted to the rear wheels without special filters, particularly the handling so far away from today’s sports cars were transmitting in me awe and respect before then turning into joy and amusement once behind the wheel. Driving the F355 had made me realize a dream, driving it a bit harder had allowed me to appreciate the subtle but important difference between joy and fear and that is the very thing that after about ten years from the day that I realized my dream is still with me in my heart.