Ever since we began a journey through time and the world of the great men of Italian trotting, the character that emerged with overbearing charm was Sergio Brighenti, the driver par excellence, a master of driving who taught the secrets of the trade to the greatest drivers. And to tell his story, who better than Luciano Aleotti, his shadow, his first fan who stood by him for a lifetime with patience and devotion until Brighenti’s death on 5 January 1990.
When he speaks of Sergio, he does so with great transport. What does he feel?
An immense affection, like falling in love. If he had been a woman I would always have been faithful to her and would never have betrayed her, not even in my thoughts. Even as a boy and before I met him in person, I used to go to page 2 of the Gazzetta dello Sport to read the articles on horse racing, but especially those about my favourite driver. Then, I managed to become his best friend. I loved seeing him at work working the horses. He would do many outings until they trotted the way he wanted. Fifty metres of trotting, analysed like a slide in a laboratory. He had an infinite passion for shoeing. He only worked the horses with the ‘ghig’. He always told me that the Swedes, when they came to Italy to race, shoed their horses, not for strategy but because they did not know how to shoe them.
Luciano, if you were in front of a class of youngsters who wanted to do a trainee course, what would you tell them about Sergio?
Everything he did in the horse world was to prove to others that he was number 1. The ‘rider’ was one of his nicknames, besides ‘Negher’ for the dark colour of his skin. He hadn’t even finished fifth grade. He lived for the job. At the age of eleven, he was orphaned by his father and devoted himself totally to the profession in order to become the best. It was a real obsession of his.
What was his character?
Harsh. You were either with him or against him. There was no middle ground. He was obstinate, stubborn, pure instinctive. He demanded the best from his pupils. Tornese, one of his best-loved horses, never gave him the last drop. In fact, he raced up to ten years at a high level. He shouted loudly to his horses, because they had to memorise his voice. He was in charge. And then he would melt like snow in the sun if there was even a small episode that softened him up. He loved to put on a show with his driving and people had to enjoy watching him from the stands. He was a draughtsman.
What kind of horseracing was Brighenti’s?
It was a real sport. The drivers had real fans like football teams. The drivers came before the horses. When we went on the motorway there were buses of supporters following Vivaldo Baldi and Sergio Brighenti, like there are those behind Juventus and Inter.
What was Brighenti’s prevailing thought?
A great driver had to make the horses great, but also the drivers. For him it was a source of pride. At his court were Edy Gubellini, his favourite and who never abandoned him, especially in times of economic difficulty, Nello Bellei, Vittorio and Giuseppe Guzzinati, and many others.
Speaking of Edy Gubellini: why was he his favourite?
Because although Gasparetto said that Gubellini was bumping horses, Sergio saw in him the ability and quality to become very good. And then the liking was born spontaneously and lasted over time. When Pippo was born, who had some health problems, since Sergio had a sorceress outside Milan whom he consulted, he had one of the boy’s garments given to him to give him some anti-malocchio ‘treatment’.
Is there an intimate, significant episode of Brighenti’s outside of horse racing?
He had four sisters and a widowed mother. In those days women wore their hair long. One day he came home and saw his mother had cut her hair. Only women who ‘did life’ used to do this. When he saw her so changed, he ran away crying. They could no longer find him: he had slept outside all night, freezing on a sheaf of straw. After hours they persuaded him to come home. He sorrowfully asked his mother why he had done so. She answered him in a voice broken with emotion: ‘I sold them to buy you shoes to wear at Easter’.
Then, Paolo Iemmi entered their lives.
Yes, he became his mother’s companion, the one who taught him to drive horses. There was never any feeling between the two of them. Iemmi preferred his nephew Casoli.
Feeling that he found instead with Bruno Rapieri.
Bruno, who was a mediator by trade, held the difficult but talented boy in high esteem. Orsi Mangelli gave the consultant a French horse, which in turn he gave to Sergio, who promptly brought him success. Once he had opened a stud farm in Milan, he was given it by that dear friend.
His greatest joy?
He never won the Amerique, but the International Trot yes with Delfo. His heart was pounding when the Mameli Anthem was played.
And what was his greatest bitterness?
When they sidelined him. He had made heavy statements about horse racing and they suspended him for three months. That was the moment I saw him really bitter. The magistrate told him that if he recanted they would cancel the ban. He did not do that. He would never have done that: rather he would have committed suicide.
What message does he want to leave to the guys on the course?
Riding that gets inside you can become a reason for living and can create happiness. Also, to go and see page 137 of the Great Encyclopaedia where only Sergio Brighenti is mentioned as the best equestrian driver ever.
Did Sergio, despite having become number 1 and the God of horseracing just as he wished, die alone?
He had stopped racing for four years because the horses, on more than one occasion, had gotten the better of him. That 5 January he was at the hippodrome in Milan and to Anselmo Fontanesi he said ‘I’m going home to eat the tortellini that Luciano brought me’. He arrived home and, once he opened the door, fell to the ground, never to rise again. He was 69 years old. Knowing him, he ended his earthly life in the best way he could have hoped. He would never have accepted life without being Sergio Brighenti.
