All in the Family

Among the early Marquises de Portago, one helped to drive the Moors from Spain, another conquered the Canary Islands, a third sailed with Conquistador Panfilo de Narvaez unsuccessful expedition to Florida. The current and 17th Marquis de Portago does his dangerous living in the world of sports. At 28. lean and swarthy Alfonso de Portago has been a champion jai-alai player, a fine swimmer, a superb polo player, a leading gentleman jockey, an Olympic bobsled star, and is one of the best sports-car racers in the world. When he rolls his sleek, shovel-nosed 3.5-liter Ferrari up to the starting line for the Florida International twelve-hour Grand Prix of Endurance at Sebring this week, he will be one of three or four favorites in a field of many champions.

Fear & Faith. His passion for sports, Portago says, made him "a dismal failure" at schools in England, France, Spain and Hollywood. No game or adventure proved capable of holding his interest steadily until he discovered car-racing three years ago. Once he climbed into the cramped cockpit of a Grand Prix racer he knew exactly where he was heading.

"Every person wants to do his best," says Portago, "and I know I am best as an athlete. I knew before 1 raced that I would drive well, and I do. I don't get afraid, so I have an advantage by going into sports where others might be scared. Adventure is like religion. And in religion you have to have faith. I have faith in myself." Alfonso is confident that in two years he will be the racing-car champion of the world.

Alfonso is frank to admit that he also has another healthy advantage over many competitors. "I have the good fortune to have a private income. Without private funds, drivers have problems with sponsors and such." As if his income were not enough to keep his American-born wife Carol, a son and a daughter in proper style, the marquis earns about $40,000 a year on the international racing circuit.

Other good drivers are usually also excellent mechanics. Not Portago. Before one of his first races (at Sebring in 1954), he and his co-driver took their car's gear box apart. When they got it together again, there were 54 nuts and bolts left over. Practical knowledge of their machine's innards helps other drivers get the most out of their engines. Alfonso keeps a steady foot on the throttle, a sure hand on the wheel and leaves the rest to luck. In a race like this week's test at Sebring, so much can go wrong that he feels luck is unusually important. The 5.2-mile course has so many tight turns and wicked switchbacks that brakes heat up and fade, clutches tend to wear out under constant shifting.

Win or Lose. The personal timetable with which Portago has charted his course to the world's championship does not necessarily call for a Sebring victory this year. But the leading point-winners on the international circuit--Argentina's Juan Fangio and Britain's Stirling Moss--will both be driving Maseratis (TIME, Feb. 18), and Portago is inclined to think that the Maserati is too fragile to win. "There's no predicting when a silly thing will stop a driver just as quickly as a major breakdown," says he. A stark example of how "a silly thing"--gear failure--can suddenly alter the picture: Portage's own teammate, Eugenio Castellotti of Italy, who was one of his closest competitors for third place in Grand Prix standings, was killed last week while testing a Ferrari at Modena (see MILESTONES).

Should he not win at Sebring, though. Driver Portago is confident of his ultimate supremacy. When he is good enough to win a world championship, he figures that he will have earned his place in his family of flamboyant adventurers.

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