The great Formula One world champion, Nikki Lauda, died today.

We all talk on here a lot about brave and tough boxers, but this guy stands foursquare amongst any one of them.

He raced when F1 was absolutely lethal, with multiple fatalities and serious injuries every year. Being an F1 driver gave you a very high probability of death or serious maiming at the time.

From the BBC - "Lauda, leading the World Championship, having won his first title a year earlier - suffered third-degree burns to his head and face that left him scarred for life, inhaled toxic gases that damaged his lungs, and received the last rites in hospital.
Yet he returned to racing just 40 days later - finishing fourth in the Italian Grand Prix. By the end of the race, his unhealed wounds had soaked his fireproof balaclava in blood, which was dripping out under his helmet and soaking his overalls throughout the race. When he tried to remove the balaclava, he found it was stuck to his bandages, and had to resort to ripping it off in one go.
It was one of the bravest acts in the history of sport.
At the time, Lauda played down his condition. Later, in his disarmingly frank autobiography, he admitted he had been so scared he could hardly drive.
"I said then and later that I had conquered my fear quickly and cleanly," Lauda wrote in To Hell And Back. "That was a lie. But it would have been foolish to play into the hands of my rivals by confirming my weakness. At Monza, I was rigid with fear."


Despite his portrayal in the rather good film, he was never the cold robot they played him as and he was good friends with James Hunt and the other drivers.

My definition of bravery involves being scared, and feeling fear. It's when you overcome it that you show true bravery.

Nikki Laura's ridiculously early return to F1 is very possibly the single bravest act in the history of sport. Any sport. Ever.

Rest in peace, Nikki.