Sergio Fancera was a famous Italian jockey, active mainly in the 1960s and 1970s. Born in Florence, at the famous Cascine, into a family with close ties to horseracing (he was the son of Otello Fancera senior, a true Roman, and father of jockey Otello Fancera junior), he made his debut at a very young age of 15, on 17 September 1959. Three days after his debut, he won his first race riding Galena, a mare owned by his cousin Elena Fancera. Fancera was known for his elegant style and tactical skill. It was the gentle way in which he addressed the horses that earned him the nickname ‘velvet hands’. It was the great journalist Alberto Giubilo who gave him this nickname. He was fascinated by the way he handled horses, which he never mistreated. Never a whipping. It is said that a whip even lasted him twenty years. Sergio Fancera retired in 1987, ending his career with a victory, and later devoted himself to training horses, following the example of his uncle Mario. He is remembered as one of the best-loved jockeys in the history of Italian racing, thanks to his perseverance and charisma.
He answers questions willingly, kindly and with great pride for a career that allowed him to experience great emotion and satisfaction.
Sergio, in the meantime, thank you for your availability, but how was your relationship with the public? Were you sociable?
I was surly. Shy and reserved. Love and hate, but politeness above all. When you’re favoured and you lose, of course they rail against you, because they speak with a ticket in their hand. The opposite is also true in the positive. It’s normal. I may have had problems with some coaches, but the owners adored me because they saw me as a serious and correct person.
The experts recognised you for your tactical intelligence, coolness in running and for calculating the slightest move.Do you see yourself again?
Yes, it is true because there was the experience and then respect for my rational character. I was lucky to ride good horses right from the start. When I was eighteen I won the Regina Elena. In those days if you weren’t good the trainers never let you ride. The owners had to have great respect from all of us.
How did you prepare for the big events?
When I had to run Grand Prix I would isolate myself and think only about that. I studied the races obsessively. I cared so much about making a good impression!
But what was your best race?
It may sound strange, but I told myself well when I lost the Derby by a short head to Marracci of Dormello Olgiata riding Depalmas. I was riding Latislao di Oppelm of San Bartolomeo.
His greatest joy as a man and as a jockey?
As a man for having built a beautiful, peaceful family. Three children, Otello, Veronica and Simone. As a professional the Derby victory with Gay Lussac. It was an exciting duel with Marcello Andreucci on a horse trained by Enrico Incisa called Tierceron.
The horse of the heart?
Without a doubt Ovac. When I was in the race I used to call him ‘capoccia’ (head) because his head was as big as a ram and he would wiggle his ears because he recognised my voice.
With Gianfranco Dettori, your historical rival, how were your relations?
We were friends with the ‘monster’. We played, we were always joking. On the track we became adversaries, always with honesty and mutual respect. We never bothered each other. It was fun to see the public cheering us on like at the stadium.
Sportsmen are often superstitious. And what was your relationship with pre-race rituals and premonitory dreams?
I didn’t want to be told good luck. It was deleterious for me. And then when I dreamt about snakes, something bad always happened to me the next day. I’m terrified of reptiles.
Your relationship with weight?
My whole life I went without eating. I spent a lifetime in the sauna. I stopped my career prematurely also because of that. I could no longer sustain a diet that deprived me of everything. Salad, meat, boiled eggs and sometimes fish. Nothing else. I was 1.65 m tall and weighed 53-54 kg.
Your relationship with foreign countries?
I have ridden in France, America, South Africa. There’s an anecdote in Deauville that still stings. I had won a race with Duke of Marmelade and after three quarters of an hour, after being rewarded with photos and various celebrations, I was relegated to fifth place. The siren had not sounded due to ‘enquiry’ immediately after the race. They contested the fact that I had gone inside, because I couldn’t find space and I bumped into an opponent in front of me. Whatever. At the same time I won a lot of races and a lot of placings with a strike rate of 70 per cent.
If you were to be born again, what would you want to be?
A jockey, always and only a jockey. At the age of five I was already riding big horses. I used to go to school with my trousers on and I managed to get everyone so involved that one day, since I was at the priests’ school, I took them all to the races at Capannelle to the amazement of my schoolmates and the prelates. My father, a great jockey, wanted me to be a doctor so I could see naked women. I instead put on the blinkers and went on my way.
Which jockey of the modern era do you appreciate the most?
Fabio Branca, an untapped talent to the core, and Alessio Satta because he thinks on the run. I don’t tolerate the ones who give sass. I can’t stand them to such an extent that when I see someone doing that I change the channel. Ovidio Pessi and I, like two old-fashioned comrades, stand in the main grandstand watching the races between one funny joke and another by the great of Dormello Olgiata, Pessi. Ah, I too rode Calamite from the Scuderia di Bolgheri when I was 17. I almost fainted when Vittorio Ugo Penco hired me.
What is your biggest regret?
As for me, I would do everything I did again. I was held in high esteem by the owners and insiders. The only regret I can say is not having seen my son Otello blossom. He won 1,000 races, but then gave up. He was 1.70 m tall and weighed too much, so he had to spend a lifetime on a diet. A sacrifice he probably didn’t feel able to face to the end. Too bad.
