Editor’s Note: The following is a first-person account from USTA chair Joe Faraldo of a recent trip to Italy with fellow North American Amateur Drivers Club members Paul Minore, Alan Schwartz and James Slendorn to compete against their Italian counterparts in an international friendship series.
Venice, Italy — An American contingent of amateur drivers set foot in Venice, Italy, for a rematch of what has become an annual friendship exchange, hosted by the Gentlemen’s Club of Veneto. The Italian Club has about 28 members, headed by its congenial President, Stefano De Lena. We were housed at a spa resort in the town of Terme Montegrotto.
Our contingent — for better or worse — consisted of myself, Paul Minore, Alan Schwartz and Jimmy Slendorn. We were invited to do battle with some of Veneto’s best amateurs. The American group brought its own announcer and Yonkers Raceway assistant race secretary, Rich Mattei along as the Yonkers Club representative. Before the race competition’s start, Jimmy and Rich, brides on their arms, managed to escape to a romantic day on the Grand Canal in their Gondolas. Luckily, they made it back in time for Rich to announce the first race at Hippodromo Bologna. Rich did not have too much difficulty with the Italian names as he was familiar with Minore, who bested me with Alan Schwartz finishing fourth. Slendorn’s first Italian drive was a disappointing late scratch.
In the next race in Bologna, the Italians took the smiles off our faces as I flattened my entrymate Minore’s right tire, dashing any hope of maintaining our lead. The Italians cleaned our clocks badly as their homegrown Ferrante, Zaccherini, Orlandi and Bonfiglioli garnered the top four spots. Italy remerged as the point leader. The Italian amateur point system is different than ours, with 10 points to the winner, 5 for a second, 2 for a third and 1 for a fourth.
The last hope for each team was at Hippodromo Padovanella, another half-miler, in Padova, not far from the Cathederal of Saint Anthony. At the track, two races were scheduled with the best two teams’ drivers gaining points at that track then vying for the Championship in a four-horse runoff.
At Padovanella, the first event was won convincingly by Jimmy Slendorn, whose steed saw a lot of the lilac-infused fresh air. Second went to Massimiliano Michelloto, third to Alan Schwartz, and fourth to Stefano De Lena.
We had regained the lead now with two wins, but the Italians were to be heard from once again in the last race before the runoff. In that one, President De Lena, sporting his horse’s bright red mask, cut the mile after being cut loose by Alan Schwartz with me finishing fast and grabbing a well beaten second.
The runoff came down to Stefano De Lena and Massimiliano Michelloto (Veneto’s leading amateur driver), Jimmy Slendorn and myself as America’s only hope. The Italians pulled the two inside posts and we drew outside. It appeared as though Jimmy and Massimiliano had the best horses. Massimiliano noticed a flat tire going to the gate, but his trainer yelled, “It was fine.” It was not. To help further, Stefano had difficulties getting to the gate on time so we started with Massimiliano on the lead, Slendorn breathing down his neck, me gapping badly in third, while Stefano was making up lost ground — and fast.
With no open stretch on the oldest half-mile track in Italy, Slendorn pulled the pocket to make a quarter-pole move on Massimiliano, but it didn’t surprise the cagey Italian on the lead. Upset by his initial rebuff, Jimmy pulled again at the five-eighths as Stefano came closer. Unfortunately, at the three-quarters, Jimmy made a costly miscue when his horse threw a shoe that took him and the trailing Stefano out of the race. That left Massimiliano on top with only me to worry about. That did not strike fear in the leader with me and my grinder still gapped out. The Italian was cruising to an apparent win. Suddenly, it appeared that the toll of all the Italian’s misfortunes, the tire and the relentless Jimmy, caught up to him when, somehow, my horse seemed to find a heretofore undisplayed gear and I thought we might have a shot as we were now on the Italian leader’s back at the head of the lane. Massimiliano fought off our advance gamely, and it took a photo to show that the Americans had emerged barely victorious, but victorious indeed.
That evening, we were escorted off to a truly gala dinner in an even more bucolic setting surrounded by hills adorned with flowing vineyards. The dinner was attended by 29 people including our wives and honored by the presence of the owner of the Padova Hippodromo.
There was an additional day spent with the sole Neapolitan in the area, Aldo Mignano, who hosted us to a lavish lunch in a town called Bassano. Aldo is a proud man, and we were off to his stable to his yearling pride and joy. To make up for lost time, we endured some hair raising 165km rides in his car on the Autostrada. The Autostdara is Italy’s speedway, where there is not a posted speed limit to be seen, and if seen, it is ignored by one and all.
The festivities concluded at the lavish home of Stefano Lago, with more of an American flavor, a barbecue. Stefano Lago was indeed a great host pouring fine wines while sharing his home. We marveled at the size of the property and admired the beautiful colt prancing around in a large paddock.