[Series: The Days Norick Lived] "Yamaha Was Serious About Making Abe a World Champion," Says Yamaha Engineer Shuji Sakurada

Norick, Norifumi Abe, dreamed of becoming a professional racer, honed his skills at Circuit Akigase, and then ventured to America for training. He became the youngest-ever champion of the All Japan Road Race Championship, debuted in the Motorcycle World Championship, and aimed for the championship in the top class.
Always looking forward, he forged his path as a rider with an uplifting spirit, exuding an overwhelming aura and capturing fans' hearts with his carefree smile.
People who met him in each place he lived intensely – from Norick's childhood, his friends at Circuit Akigase, to the All Japan Road Race and the Motorcycle World Championship – share their memories of him.

He Was Already Known in America

I first became aware of Norifumi Abe at the opening round of the 1993 All Japan Road Race Championship at Suzuka, where he began competing in the 500cc class.

Toshihiko Honma of Yamaha won, and Abe finished second. As we were discussing with the staff, "Who is this rider?", we were told that Abe had been training in dirt track in America, and that Kenny's father (Roberts) and Wayne (Rainey) also knew of Abe. We were informed, "He's famous in America."

That was my first impression: "Is there really a rider like that in Japan?" I was also surprised by Honda's decision to put a young 17-year-old rider straight into the 500cc class. I only saw Norick race once that year at the opening round, and he went overseas afterward, so I didn't see his subsequent performances.

At the 1994 WGP Japanese Grand Prix, I watched from the pit alongside Kenny and Wayne. It was a shocking WGP debut race. Abe was participating as a wildcard entry from a satellite team, so I thought, "Why isn't Honda signing Abe?"

However, Yamaha was already having Tetsuya Harada compete overseas in WGP250, and had Gihiko Fujiwara, who had achieved three consecutive championships in All Japan, in the 500cc class. At that time, they were considering overseas participation as a reward for Fujiwara. Given this background, they weren't particularly interested in Abe, a rider from a rival manufacturer.

But Wayne was starting his own team and looking for riders, and Abe came up as a candidate. When Rainey offered Abe a ride for the following season, and Abe's intentions were confirmed, the initial idea was, "It would be best for him to race 250cc with Kenny's team." However, this was for the 1995 season, not a mid-season transfer.

Unexpectedly, Daryl Beattie of Team Roberts Yamaha was injured at the 9th round at Le Mans, and Abe was chosen as his replacement. This seems to have been arranged at a higher level. Three months after the Japanese Grand Prix, Abe arrived at Donington in the UK.

My superiors asked me for help, but Wednesday and Thursday of the race week were filled with charity events, making it even busier than usual. Amidst the hectic preparations, Friday's free practice began.

"What is a break-in period?"

Abe's performance at the Japanese Grand Prix left a strong impression on the overseas staff as well, and media attention was high, with multiple cameras following his every move. Abe's birthday is September 7th. At that time, he had just turned 19 and was thrown into a top-tier professional group. I was a little worried, but perhaps due to his mental strength, Abe carried himself with confidence.

When I first told Abe, "Let's start with breaking in the engine," he replied, "What is a break-in period?"

"Hmm, you don't know?" I was surprised. He was the All Japan champion and had performed like that as a wildcard... I wondered what kind of career he had to get this far.

But there was nothing to be done if he didn't know. I told him, "Take it easy for three laps, and then go full throttle from the fourth lap." Abe started riding on a new course with a new Yamaha YZR. After completing three laps, just as he was thinking, "Okay, from here," he crashed in the final corner.

He sustained an injury requiring stitches in his finger, was transported to the hospital by ambulance, and underwent surgery. I stayed with him overnight. Since he couldn't use his hands, I fed him with a spoon. We had only known each other for a few days, yet we had a closeness like family.

In a rural hospital in England, facing adults he barely knew, it must have been difficult, but he behaved bravely without complaint. He was very composed, and I found him reliable and likable, thinking, "He's a Japanese young man."

Yamaha's Japanese riders often spend time together from regional races to All Japan, and they are close, for better or worse. They have a strong bond of mutual reliance, but I realized Abe was a homegrown rider who had forged his own path.

He began full-time participation in 1995, joining Marlboro Yamaha Roberts. His teammate was Luca Cadalora. I had hoped Cadalora would mentor Abe, but their riding styles were too different, making it an impossible request. The machine development was also geared towards Cadalora's preferences, and Abe struggled while trying his best.

He won the Japanese Grand Prix in 1996, but from 1997 onwards, he moved to Marlboro Yamaha Rainey and spent two seasons there. He didn't achieve any victories during this period.

In 1998, he transferred to the satellite team Antena 3 Yamaha D'Antin. When moving from a factory team to a satellite team, considering the presence of Shinya Nakano and Noriyuki Haga following Abe, as well as the situation with other international riders, Yamaha could no longer support him. When I told him, "You'll be going to Antena 3," Abe looked stunned.

Afterward, we discussed his future, and retirement was an option, but he ultimately decided to continue, knowing it would be a tough battle, stating, "It's not that I've lost the possibility of winning."

Then, in 1999, Abe won at the Nelson Piquet Circuit in Brazil. It's a circuit in a rural town with a high-speed layout, difficult to find a rhythm, and a course that tests one's courage. Come to think of it, it might have been the perfect place for Abe.

He wasn't setting fast times in qualifying, but in the race, he engaged in a fierce battle for the lead with Biaggi and Roberts Jr. Abe, who always rode aggressively, won in his signature style. Knowing the hardships he faced after moving to a satellite team, this victory, which seemed to overcome adversity, was the most joyful one yet.

Abe won the Japanese Grand Prix in 2000 and competed in WGP until 2004. Afterward, he continued to race for Yamaha in the Superbike World Championship and All Japan.

He Was a Talent Worth Betting On

Even looking back now, Abe joining Yamaha was unusual and unthinkable at the time. Nevertheless, we were seriously aiming to make him a world champion. There was definitely a sentiment of "Let's bet on Abe." I believe he was that much of a prodigy.

Looking back at Yamaha's WGP history, the lineage includes Giacomo Agostini, Kenny Roberts, Eddie Lawson, Tadahiko Taira, Wayne Rainey, Luca Cadalora, Norifumi Abe, Max Biaggi, and then Valentino Rossi and Fabio Quartararo.

Abe was a truly important rider for Yamaha. Among the greats, he would rank high as a memorable rider.

Riders who become world champions often face hardships in their early, unknown days. Riders who rise to the top in racing have something that sets them apart. His experience of going to America at 15 and his upbringing, not yet molded by the industry, may have shaped Abe's appeal.

He wasn't the type of rider who would ask for an easy-to-set-up machine; instead, he adapted himself to the machine and brought out its potential. Therefore, I now believe that for the first one or two seasons, instead of focusing on settings, it might have been better to adopt an approach that accommodated Abe's style, allowing him time to simply ride.

Personally, I believe his biggest chance for a world championship was in 1996.

We were too focused on the machine and trying to fix it, but if we had been more supportive of Abe and listened to him more, we might have been able to better utilize his riding style. Thinking about it now, I regret that we might have been able to help him become the first Japanese rider to win the top-class championship.

Watching Abe race always gave me a special sense of exhilaration and fueled the expectation that "he might do it." Therefore, working with Abe on races, including the sense of unity with the staff, was a rewarding experience.

He had intense emotions, often crying, but that was part of his human charm. Among the many riders I've seen, some are full of complaints and grumbles, but Abe never blamed the bike, win or lose. He always blamed himself.

Abe was straightforward, refreshing, and a bright star. The seasons spent with Abe were always exciting and fulfilling. If it were possible, I would love to go back to those days and aim for the championship with Abe once more.

Go to Gallery  (1)