The assembly area at the Goodwood Festival of Speed was packed with cars. But one driver was missing. Fans were around Tom Wheatcroft’s pale-green BRM V16. Argentine great José Froilán González was down to oblige but he was mysteriously nowhere to be found.

I made enquiries. The crowd continued to grow. “You tell them Doug”, I was told; “Make a paddock announcement”. So with the area marshal’s microphone I said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Froilán González will not be appearing in the next session. He is presently enjoying breakfast in the House…”

While Ferrari’s breakthrough World Championship-qualifying Grand Prix winner was breakfasting, the news fed many fans’ preconception of the roly-poly, win-or-bust piloto widely known in period as ‘The Pampas Bull’ or ‘Pepe’. Later that day I walked into the paddock with the great man, whose frontline career had been so encouraged by his 11-years-older friend, Juan Manuel Fangio. As we entered the collecting area a standing ovation erupted. Pepe’s son turned to me in astonishment and asked, “How do all these people know who he is? He doesn’t get a reception like this even in Argentina!”

Pepe buckled-up his battered bright-yellow crash helmet, its forehead section liberally drilled for cooling – then slipped down (with a squeeze) into the BRM’s seat. Out on the hill he wound it up through the gears. He revelled in its 16-cylinder song.

In 1957 our late friend Denis Jenkinson wrote in his book The Racing Driver: “Over the years I have seen many examples of real racing drivers driving right on the limit, and occasionally overstepping the limit. In other words playing about in the narrow margin between nine-and-a-half tenths and ten-tenths, and getting away with it by sheer skill… (An) instance of this limit motoring that we shall never forget is the day in 1951 at Silverstone when Gonzalez in a 4½-litre Ferrari beat the Alfa Romeos for the first time, using all the Silverstone circuit and most of the grass verge in the process. That was nine-and-a-half tenths motoring at its very best, and he got away with it too… Froilan Gonzalez was probably as good an example as any of a ’speed happy’ driver, and in car racing such men are often described as ‘lead-foot drivers’, meaning that they know only one place for their right foot and that is hard on the accelerator – regardless of the consequences…” which of course, in period, could be truly dire.

González had a lucky escape during practice for the 1954 Tourist Trophy race at Dundrod in Ulster, when he rolled his works Ferrari 750 Monza sports car. A breathless St John Ambulance man who attended was open-mouthed at the surprisingly short, stocky (yet spherical) González’s weight as he had lifted him onto a stretcher, telling a friend “By Gor – ye t’ink dat guy was fat. No way! I tell ye, dat’s all solid muscle!” But the Argentinian’s international career was almost over. He only raced thereafter in Argentina, save for a call from Tony Vandervell which saw him practice a Vanwall for the 1956 British GP back at the scene of his two Ferrari victories at Silverstone, only for the car to fail at the start.

Ferrari had found itself a driver short in the run-up to the 1951 French GP at Reims. Multi-talented Piero Taruffi – as engineer/team director for Gilera – had been asked to attend that same day’s motorcycle Belgian GP at Spa. He put Gilera ahead of Ferrari, which left ‘The Old Man’ seeking a short-term replacement. Mr Ferrari chose González, 28, who had shone in a special supercharged 2-litre Ferrari V12 in the Argentine Temporada races.

So González found himself teamed for the French race with Ferrari numero uno Alberto Ascari and ‘Gigi’ Villoresi. On race day, Ascari’s 4½-litre Ferrari 375 lasted only 10 laps before its gearbox failed. When González stopped to refuel after 34 laps Ascari took over his car to finish second behind Fangio and Luigi Fagioli, co-driving the winning Alfa Romeo Alfetta.

The unsupercharged Ferraris were less fuel-thirsty than the highly-supercharged 1500cc Alfettas. Crucially the V12s also had greater torque, and were kinder on their tyres.

At Silverstone “in a straight fight” as Jenks wrote, González won in Ferrari’s little-regarded 4½-litre 375. Jenks:“A foretaste of the new boy’s ability was seen in practice when he recorded the first 100mph lap… The fact that the fastest of the Alfa Romeo drivers could not approach this by a complete second…indicated that Ferrari were on the threshold of complete success. Gonzalez put both himself and Ferrari, oddly enough with a 1950 car, on the motor racing map for all time. Duelling with fellow countryman Fangio for the whole race he won by nearly a minute, justifying his inclusion in the team and ending an unapproached phase in the life of the Alfa Romeo factory. To force home the victory, that had been steadily approaching during the year, Villoresi finished third. Ascari again broke his gearbox and retired after 56 laps”.

For the following GP at the Nürburgring, Taruffi rejoined the Ferrari line-up and the four Ferrari V12s finished 1-3-4-5, Ascari – in the Silverstone-winning muletto – leading home González, Villoresi, Taruffi. And González went on to win that same year at Pescara, placed second at Bari then Ferrari hammered Alfa Romeo 1-2-4-5 in the Italian GP at Monza, Ascari winning again from the ‘new boy’.

Pepe won the 1954 British GP back at Silverstone, this time in a 2½-litre four-cylinder 625, and shared the winning Ferrari 375 Plus sports projectile with Maurice Trintignant in the Le Mans 24 Hours race.

It was certainly an Autosport front cover photo in around 1951 that first absorbed me into a lifetime’s interest. I was six, but I had it in mind that Goodwood weekend with González. For me it was time memorably well spent, with a long-admired hero – a no-holds-barred, bar-room battling racer.

He recalled how “At Reims in the French Grand Prix, Fangio had won in an Alfa Romeo after a tremendous battle. On that occasion, I was forced to stop so that Ascari could take over my car. In short, Ascari and I split the points from our second-place finish.