That cold, withering glare is rare in modern Grand Prix racing. Today, every finish—even a top independent team award—is met with celebration. But when three-time World Champion Wayne Rainey raced in Grand Prix, he wasn't chasing meaningless accolades or ‘first loser’ trophies.

If you had told Rainey in 1988 that he’d go on to have a long and decorated GP career, be celebrated worldwide, cheered by crowds, and mobbed by autograph seekers—but never win a race—he wouldn’t have stayed. He likely would’ve left Europe, returned to the U.S., picked up his tool belt—Rainey worked as a carpenter during his early years—or gone into business with his father or brother. Rainey wasn’t in Grand Prix to make up the numbers or be a rolling billboard for sponsors. He was there to win.

The 1992 Spanish Grand Prix at Jerez was one of the low points. Michael Doohan, aboard the factory Honda, handed Rainey a 20-second defeat. Rainey’s reaction, captured in the photo above by Nathaniel Mendell, said it all: grim, distant, furious. He looked like he’d be in better spirits at a funeral.

It was his friend—and occasional rival—Eddie Lawson who later explained the mindset of a top-tier rider best. After retiring, Lawson said that for racers like them, there is no emotional middle ground. “If you win,” he said, “you’re happy—until the next race. But if you get beat... well, then everybody’s gotta die.”