That night Marco Guidetti, one of the historic World Grand Prix Motorcycle Racing photographers, left us. Marco had followed in his father’s footsteps and combined his passion for photography with that of speed and drivers.
From a young age he was present at every Grand Prix, armed with his ambitions, but above all with his smile. Marco was part of this big family that traveled the world, route after route, and there was no driver or team member who did not know him or whom he had not befriended.
To GPOne, he was above all a friend – someone we joked, teased, and shared excursions, hotel rooms, and cheerful dinners with – and a valued employee.
At the moment, all of our staff are there for Marco’s family and offer our condolences.
At 12:00 p.m. there was a minute’s silence in the media center.
Marco, what the hell did you play for us this morning? It’s not like I now know what to write. So I write down what you have been to me all these years: a friend. A friend with whom I shared not thirty-five years of life, but thirty-five years in the paddock, racetracks, hotel rooms, airports in this motorcycle world championship that is our home.
How often have we said it to ourselves: paddock, home.
I don’t even remember the first time we first met, but it was in the Motosprint editorial office in the late 70s when you came with your father Vinicio. One of our first photographers.
Back then we had two: Franco Villani and Vinicio Guidetti. I smile as I remember their carefree arguments to post their photos.
Together with Alberto Sabbatini tons of slides through the loop.
But those were just the beginning. The days when Alberto, who later became the director of Autosprint, said of the photographers: the flag is up, fingers up: the job is done.
This has not been the case for several years. No more rolls of film, just thousands of photos that you download to your computer, edit and save individually.
Hard work that keeps you, like all your coworkers, busy late into the night.
The Mac, the cannons. Most recently, the move to Nikon, which you were so excited about.
We would inevitably annoy you: Marco, we know your secret – the camera does everything for you.
My most vivid memory? Australia, obviously: we rented the same house for many years and now I admit it wasn’t because you were making the pasta carbonara on the stove.
“It’s no use because you don’t have the right ingredients here!”
Yeah … but we devoured it anyway.
One beer, two beers. The Blue Moon in Texas, an appointment that we and Matteo, with whom you had only written a week ago, couldn’t miss.
“I won’t be in Brno. I have to have some tests done.”
And then the news this morning when we got to the paddock because it’s a small town where everyone knows everyone. An extended family.
With everything that happened this year, I would have needed a photographer up there.
Paolo