But actually it’s not just that. I know I’m again making the mistake of thinking Formula 1 is a sport, but the truth is that, with the notable exception of last year’s fiasco, Spa tends to put on a bloody good motor race. There’s the sheer spectacle of a driver trying to take Pouhon flat, there’s the thrill when two cars approach Eau Rouge side by side, there’s the satisfaction in the many and various overtaking manoevres it affords (Mika on Michael in 2000, anyone?) and then there’s circuit itself as it weaves, climbs and plunges its way around the natural contours of the Ardennes.
Nor can I, as one of those romantic fools who had motor-racing heroes before his trousers touched his knees, go to Spa and not think further back into its history. Covid aside, I race there every year. And every year I go out beyond the confines of the current circuit to the roads that made up the evil old Spa – over double the length of what is already the longest circuit used in F1 today – and wonder. I drive slowly down through Burnenville, curse the roundabout that has ruined Malmedy and then onto the endless Masta Straight, with its notorious kink. And I always stop at the exit where for years has stood the Masta Friterie, buy chips, mayonnaise and sit at the outside tables, facing back up the track. Here Pedro and Jo would have skimmed past in their teetering 917s at – what? – 190mph? Then they’d have blasted down the hill towards the banked turn at Stavelot, turning them for home and rocketing back up the track to the place where, then as now, Blanchimont was waiting to host them.
And I think, in particular, of one lap. It was that which brought pole to Jacky Ickx for the 1973 1000km race, for it was I believe the fastest lap ever completed on that version of the circuit. Almost half a century ago, in a car with a 3-litre naturally aspirated engine, and despite having to decelerate for one of the slowest hairpins in racing, his Ferrari 312PB averaged over 163mph. Averaged. He must have been absolutely on the edge for every inch of its 8.76-mile circumference. How he was able to block out all that could happen here at such speeds and, indeed, all that had happened here, time and again for year after year, confounds my comprehension.
So please, Stefano, don’t take Spa away. Listen to the fans, the people who, ultimately, pay your wages. Lose France if you must – Ricard is a challenging but soulless place these days – but keep Spa. I expect one of the new deals will fail to materialise in time for next year (it would require a major change in policy from Covid-phobic China for a start), so please retain Spa in its place; then cut another race from the 2024 calendar from a country whose contract is up for renewal and which is not steeped in racing heritage. Baku springs to mind. And then make Spa a permanent fixture.
For me, Spa is one of the crown jewels of motor racing, up there with Le Mans and the Brickyard, and the only one currently still in use at the top level of our sport. Love watching cars threading the needle at Monaco though I do, as a circuit it’s not even close. Keep Spa and you keep the best loved circuit on the calendar, the oldest and the most challenging too. Surely in PR terms alone, as a move to show that beneath all those sharp suits real hearts beat in the chests of people who share our passion for the sport – that word again – it would have a value all by itself? Lose Spa and, let’s face it, it’s not coming back, so it stays lost and all of us, including even F1 in the longer term, will be poorer as a result.