By the summer of 1961, the Ferrari Dino 156 — the 'Sharknose' — was the class of Formula 1 by a distance. The Maranello cars were faster, better engineered and better funded than anything opposing them in the new 1.5-litre formula. Phil Hill, Wolfgang von Trips and Richie Ginther formed one of the most formidable driver line-ups the sport had ever assembled. Going to the Nürburgring for the German Grand Prix, Ferrari were expected to walk away with another straightforward victory.
Sterling Moss had other ideas. Driving a privately entered Lotus 18 run by Rob Walker — older and simpler than the Ferraris in almost every respect — Moss attacked the 14.2-mile Nordschleife with a precision and intensity that left observers disbelieving their stopwatches. The Nürburgring, at the time, was the ultimate test of a racing driver: 170 corners across forested hillsides, blind crests, plunging descents and surfaces that changed character from lap to lap. Moss knew every one of them intimately.
For fifteen laps Moss held the Ferraris at bay through a combination of mechanical sympathy, absolute accuracy and an intimate understanding of the circuit that no amount of horsepower could compensate for. He managed his tyres exquisitely, hit his marks through the trees and crests with millimetre precision, and crossed the finish line ahead of the Ferraris of von Trips and Phil Hill. The crowd — enormous by the standards of any event anywhere in Europe — gave him a reception that said everything about what had been witnessed.
It was Moss's finest victory in a career defined by extraordinary drives in machinery that was rarely the fastest on the grid. That he never won a World Championship — he was runner-up four times — remains one of sport's great paradoxes. On this particular afternoon on this particular circuit, he was untouchable.