SPEED Star

No one was really surprised when Jojo Silverio took the checkered flag in the first race of the Asian Formula Challenge 2002 at the Batangas Racing Circuit (BRC) last month. The field–peppered with foreign drivers–may have been tough, but Jojo is a pedigreed racer. His stature as a veteran in motor sports made spectators confident that a Filipino could and would top the race.

Jojo won over Mark Goddard, an Englishman who is also a veteran in Formula 3, and other racers with big names. His victory, many hope, signals the rise of the Filipino in formula racing.

"It was a special victory for me," says Jojo a week later when he sat down with Starweek for an interview at his office in Makati. "Everybody who is special to me came to watch. And it made me feel as if I was starting my career all over again."

Jojo, as many in the local car racing may know already, is approaching the finish line of his career. Friends say he is 42–he refuses to confirm or correct the number. And around that age, many a racer is either retiring or already retired. Jojo did not admit it but it may now feel awkward racing with drivers half his age.

"I’m old," he admits, a sheepish grin creeping across his face. "Well, I just want to make good use of my last years as a driver. After this year, maybe it’s time to do something else."

It seems only yesterday when Edmundo Silverio Jr. was bitten by the racing bug. He was eight when he first had a taste of life on the fast lane–literally. Watching his father Dante race in the Luneta Grand Prix, the young boy’s senses were opened to the thrills and terrors of the motor sport.

He remembers the experience vividly.

"I was watching my dad‘s car all the time. And for reasons unknown to me at that time, the car kept going into the pit. One time, as my dad was entering the pit again, his car spun out. I got really scared. I thought something happened to him," he says.

Jojo’s father lost the race but his teammate, Pocholo Ramirez, won it. "In one day I saw the danger and the victory. Winning was overwhelming. Everyone was cheering, everybody was happy. The victory made me forget the dangers all together," he recalls.

The young Jojo literally grew up with cars. His grandfather–the legendary Ricardo Silverio–was head of Delta Motors, then maker of Toyota cars in the country. The only son of the old man’s eldest son Dante, Jojo was with his father at every race and in every team meeting. He knew all his dad’s mechanics and his playmates, the sons of Ramirez–George, Louie and Kookie–grew up also to become race drivers.

Being with his father during race days made Jojo thirst for the experience. He wanted to race, too, but was still too young to drive. So he thought he’d settle for the next best thing, a bicycle, but his parents would not buy him one for fear he would only injure himself. So he had to find a way to get a bike with his own money.

"I had an aquarium then and a collection of fish. I sold them all so I could buy a bicycle. It was a beautiful bike, with a blue frame and red tires," he remembers. "When I got home, I told my parents I just borrowed the bike. They simply wouldn’t allow me to own one."

The day after he got his bicycle, Jojo went to his playmates’ hang-out in Dasmariñas Village and challenged them to a race. "Bakbakan na agad," he recalls. He raced non-stop from sun-up to sundown or until his parents called him in for the day. Months passed and the bicycle became too slow for him. It was time to switch to a motorcycle. But again, his parents said no.

"My dad has a big fear of motorcycles," Jojo recalls. "When he was young, he saw my uncle crash his motorbike. So he would never allow me to ride, much more race, a motorcycle."

Jojo again thought of a way to have his own motorcycle: He organized bicycle races for the local kids. He would ask them for an entry fee, then ask his dad or a ninong to donate a trophy. After a dozen races, he had enough money to buy a second-hand motorcycle. "It was a bulok Yamaha 60cc Enduro. I learned how to fix it up and in no time, I was back on the track racing."

Jojo started in four-wheel racing when he reached 14. Just like any serious racer, he started off with karting and moved on to saloon car racing two years later. He wanted to follow his dad’s career so he went into rallying.

It wasn’t long before he was racing alongside his dad. In one race in 1986, he finished second to his old man. He is always reminded of that race by a news clipping now neatly framed in his office. "Silverios 1-2 in Rally," the news article exclaimed.

Being one of the most experienced among local drivers, Jojo believes there is more to racing than being able to drive fast. "It’s not just driving," he says. "You can have all the talent in the world but if you don’t have the important things, then you won’t make it."

The "important things" for Jojo are the lessons his father taught him. They are also the lessons that he is still mastering up to now. Jojo turns contemplative as he remembers those lessons.

"You have to have dedication, you have to have commitment," he says, his eyes wandering. "And you have to be organized. Without the right manage-ment, no race driver and no team can succeed."

Jojo believes Filipino racer drivers have the talent to excel in international competitions. He didn’t name names, but he says that if only some drivers he knew were given the support, they could have become world champions, big names on the international racing circuit, maybe even a Formula One winner.

"What we really lack are sponsors. And we need unity also. We have so many groups organizing so many small events. Why not do one big event once? That way the sponsorships can be maximized."

We asked Jojo if a kid from a poor family can have a crack at motor sports and become an F1 champion. He ponders the idea for a minute then replies: "The responsibility lies in that kid’s parents. The parents should take him to the race track, do whatever it takes to make the kid drive, and if the kid’s really good, someone will pick him up. The first step is up to the parents. They must make sure that the kid gets to drive."

When Jojo raced that hot Sunday last month at the BRC, the people he cared for so much and who cares for him were there. He knew he wasn’t racing for himself. He was racing for his dad, who was calling all the time. He was racing for his mom, who was cheering in the stands. And he was racing for his two sisters and his nieces, all of whom trooped to the track to lend him support.

"I have a sister who never watched me race. But she came that day at BRC to see me," he beams. "It was really a memorable race. All the dangers and all the hardships vanish whenever I think of my family. I am racing for them."