Credit: Public Domain
Credit Photo: Public Domain
To most fans it looked like just another Grand Prix weekend.
The forests of Belgium echoed with the scream of turbo engines, and spectators leaned over the barriers to watch the cars thunder by.
However, Nelson Piquet returned to his Williams with the same calm expression he always carried.
He slipped his gloves, adjusted his helmet and gave a confident glance toward the cameras.
On the surface, it all seemed normal.
But normal was only an illusion.
What happened two weeks earlier?
At Imola, Piquet had experienced a significant incident that challenged his confidence on track. The official report reduced it to ‘bruising,’ but the experience affected his focus and approach in the following weeks.
For days, he felt unsettled and needed time to regain his usual rhythm. Walking through the paddock, the environment sometimes felt off-balance, a reminder that even top drivers need time to recover mentally.
In ’80s F1, admitting weakness was rare; a driver could not afford to show doubt or hesitation. Nowadays it is different—teams and drivers prioritize safety, and most will take time to rest when needed.
Teammates, rivals, and sponsors were always watching. In Piquet’s case, his teammate was Nigel Mansell—aggressive and always ready to challenge—so showing uncertainty wasn’t an option.
Piquet kept quiet, smiled, and joked. He carried on!
Different Shades of the Champion
Closest people to him noticed some change. Piquet, famous for his outspoken remarks, spoke with more restraint.
Piquet never replied to journalists with simple answers, but after that race, when asked about Mansell, instead of sharp replies, he simply said, “Nigel’s a fighter.”
To many, it sounded like respect; to others, it was a sign that something inside him had shifted since Imola.
On track, the struggle was subtler. His qualifying laps were solid, but not at the electric pace that once defined him. The old Piquet would have demanded more from the car, pushing harder, and expressed frustration openly.
At Spa, he was quieter, every lap a careful balance between trust in the car and regaining confidence. In the fastest corners, he reminded himself to stay composed.
The Hidden Challenge
The biggest performance that weekend came off the car. Piquet answered questions with jokes, brushed off concern with a smile, and maintained his usual poise. Behind that act, every moment was about staying composed and proving he could still perform.
What Remained Unsaid
Spa 1987 didn’t go down in the record books as a famous win or defining race.
Yet it carried a story few knew—Piquet never publicly admitted how much the Imola incident had affected him. In the years following, he continued to manage the mental and physical demands of F1 in a way drivers of that era were expected to.
For Piquet, the weekend at Spa was not about chasing glory or adding another trophy. It was about proving to himself and to the world that he could still stand tall, even while regaining confidence and composure after a difficult experience.
