I like movies and music as much as the next guy, but I’ve never been obsessed with celebrities. I don’t try to collect autographs like Rupert Pupkin and I don’t cry at concerts when one of my favorite musicians, Ben Folds, plays a particular song. But when I got a chance to meet Valentino Balboni, Lamborghini’s longtime factory test driver, I took it.
Back in February 2014, I convinced my buddy Dan, who’s not a car guy, to go with me to Esotico Italiano, an Italian car show that was part of Lamborghini Club Texas’ 11th annual Texas Running of the Bulls weekend. We made the drive out to the Oasis Texas Brewing Company in Austin. That venue offers a great view of Lake Travis, but it was lost on me. All I saw were the Countachs, Gallardos, and Aventadors in the parking lot. According to Lamborghini Club America, there were nearly 100 of them there and more than 3,000 spectators.
As I was ogling the various wedge-shaped supercars, Dan managed to get my attention and ask me, “Why is everybody crowded around that guy over there?” I looked in the direction Dan was pointing and caught a glimpse of who seemed to be the most popular attendee. I instantly realized who it was. I told Dan, “Oh, man – that’s Valentino Balboni.” He had no idea who I was talking about, but my excitement must’ve made it clear to him that this Balboni guy was a big deal.
If I had had enough time while Dan and I were walking up to the throng of fans around Balboni, I would’ve told him that the man everyone wanted to meet was Lamborghini’s official test driver for 35 years and drove approximately 80 percent of the cars the company produced. Balboni was such an integral part of the raging bull brand that Lamborghini honored him by making a production run of 250 rear-wheel-drive Gallardo LP550-2s with white and gold center striping that hearkened back to 1970s sports cars.
A few minutes later, I was next in line to meet the automotive legend. I was nervous and didn’t think it would go well. I wasn’t a Lamborghini owner, so I literally had no business being there. I couldn’t personally thank Balboni for getting the Diablo’s handling dialed in perfectly or tell him how fun his namesake Gallardo is on curvy roads. Plus, Balboni was out in the sun all morning shaking hands with strangers and (probably) being bombarded with questions. If he couldn’t hide his social exhaustion from posing for photos, I wouldn’t be able to blame him.
Then it was go time. I had preemptively worried for nothing. Balboni had an obvious warmth and patience. He knew what we were both there for. (Without bursting into hysterics) I told him it was an honor to meet him. He must’ve heard that 1,000 times already, but he was so gracious and made me feel like I was the first person he met that day. I was still a little self-conscious about having Dan taking our photo as we shook hands. Something could go wrong. Would my phone lock and require me to enter my password? Would Dan drop it or have to take another photo? Would any of the things that could go wrong deplete Balboni’s patience? Luckily, the photo op went smoothly. For a man who spent decades driving fast cars at the limit, Balboni didn’t try to rush things along. He was an absolute gentleman that made an already pleasant surprise even better.
There’s a second, even happier ending to this story. Of course, not long after I got my picture with Balboni, I put it up on my Facebook page. Two years later on a dating app, I met a beautiful woman named Eli who eventually became my wife. Before we even met in person, she did what a lot of people do when they’re about to go out with someone for the first time: look them up online. Several years ago, we were talking about my photo with Balboni. To my surprise, she told me, “That’s one of the photos that attracted me to you.” If you’re reading this, Signore Balboni, thank you.
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