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’s world had turned upside down, a sudden rear tire failure at 260 km/h hurled his car into the barriers.
The crash left him battered and shaken, official report reduced it to ‘bruising’ but the real story was far heavier!
However, for days, he struggled with dizziness, sleep was broken by jolts of panic.
Even walking through paddock, the ground sometimes felt like it shifted beneath him.
In ’80s f1, weakness was never admitted, a driver could not afford to confess that his head was still spinning or that body felt unstable.
Nowadays it is different, they are checking more and the drivers by their decision, won’t take any more risks, most of them will ask to rest.
Teammates, rivals and sponsors were always watching, and in Piquet’s case, his teammate was Mansell, aggressive, and always ready to challenge, to show doubt meant giving ground.
Piquet kept quiet, smiled and he joked, he carried on!
Different Shades of the Champion
Closest people to him noticed some change in him, Piquet, famous for his outspoken remarks, spoke with more restraint.
Piquet never replied to journalists with a simple answer, but after that race they asked him about Mansell, instead of the sharp replies they expected, he just 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 clearer, his quali laps were solid, but not at the electric pace that once defined him.
The old Piquet would have demanded more from the car, pushing much harder, and also shown frustration.
At Spa, he was quiet, every lap felt like a battle between trust and hesitation.
In fastest corners he had to fight the memory of the tire failure that had almost ended it all.
The Hidden Battle
The biggest performance that weekend did not come in the car, it came in the paddock.
Piquet put on a show for the outside world, answering questions with jokes, brushing off concern with a smile.
Behind that act, every moment was about holding himself together, proving that he could still fight.
What Remained Unsaid
Spa 1987 did not go down in the record books as a famous win or a defining race.
Yet it carried a story that few ever knew, Piquet never publicly admitted how much the Imola crash had affected him.
In the years following the accident, he continued to experience symptoms such as headaches, drivers of that era were expected to hide their pain, to climb back in no matter the cost.
For Piquet, the weekend at Spa was not about chasing glory or adding another trophy to his cabinet.
It was about proving himself and to the world that he could still stand tall, even when the shadows of fear followed him at every corner.
Piquet at the time spoke publically about the effects of his crash and himself estimated that the concussion had cost him half a second per lap in qualifying pace. This is a nonsensic article.