Time, they say, is a great healer. I’m not so sure. It’s been a year. Not much has changed: the world misses Ken Block as much as ever.
Emerging from the holiday festivities, getting back into the groove was very much the focus of Monday January 2. Then it wasn’t. KB had gone.
Travelling across the US in pursuit of America’s premier rally series was an eye-opener last year. From Washington to New England, coast-to-coast, each ARA round represented the first national gathering of rally fans since January 2.
Universally, there was sadness for what had been lost. But overwhelmingly, there was positivity and there were tears as stories were traded at the 43i (forty three institute) tent.
Lucy and Lia Block did the most extraordinary job of maintaining the family’s presence in a series which meant so much to Ken.
Lia’s two-wheel drive title (as well as her outstanding pace in the Escort Cosworth in LSPR) would doubtless have brought that big, wide smile to one of the world’s most recognisable bearded faces.
Block Jr’s deal with Williams Racing would be another source of pride to her Dad; delivery on the promise she’d shown from the moment she persuaded him to let her take the reins of 1400 Hoonicorn horses… aged 14.
But still, we miss him. KB just brought something extra. There really was never a dull moment. Watching him walk through Park Exposé was a treat; the crowd was divided into two categories: those who stepped aside and simply stared as this sensation crossed their path and those who dived in front of him, phone in outstretched hand, capturing a millionth selfie.
I wrote a column about Electrikhana Two last month. I’ll be honest. I didn’t want to watch it. Watching that made it all the more final. Typically, watching it was precisely the right thing to do. One last time, Block made the world see motoring from a very different perspective.
Tomorrow, next week, next year we’ll still miss him. The enormous hole KB left this time last year can’t be filled. Let’s not try. Let’s focus on remembering him like we know he’d want to be remembered: sideways, smokin’ tires, grinning his grin and laughing his laugh.
Today, we remember one of the absolute greats from our sport.
Thank you, sir. It was an honor.
