His delivery is defining memory of my title win
feel honoured that Murray was there with me when I won the World Championship. Now, 25 years on, I am left with ‘a lump in my throat’
The world lost one of its great characters of broadcasting on Saturday. But Murray Walker has left us all with so much for which to be grateful to him. I, for one, can think myself blessed to have had a career that was so vividly brought to life by his incomparable delivery and sixth sense for drama. Especially the way in which he captured my world title success in 1996: “And Damon Hill exits the chicane and wins the Japanese Grand Prix! … And I’ve got to stop because I’ve got a lump in my throat!” It summed up the significance of the moment perfectly and it meant all the more because Murray said it; because he understood the journey I had been on and what it meant to the Hill family.
Although my father’s success happened before Murray began to commentate full-time on Formula One – so we did not really cross paths when I was a small boy and roaming around the paddock – in another way he was with me my entire life because I grew up listening to Murray’s voice calling the motocross on television from some dirty, muddy field in Somerset.
I loved it. Here was this guy getting hysterical about people falling off their motorbikes. “Look! Look!” he would shout. And our eyes popped out of our heads trying to see what he wanted us to see. For a young person with “square eyes”, watching it was thrilling, and he generated 90 per cent of the thrill.
As the son of a TT rider-turnedcommentator, growing up inside the motorsport bubble, Murray could just as easily have been turned off by it all and we would never have been any wiser. But it was clearly his enormous love and admiration for his dad which inspired him to stick around the paddock and the commentary box his whole life. Not so much the grease paint, more the grease and the petrol. I could relate to that.
I have so many wonderful memories. That Pizza Hut advert we did together in 1996 is a special one. I felt awful because my instructions from the director were to grab Murray by the lapels and throttle him! But we had some fun and that was a lovely little cameo role for both of us. People really remember that advert.
Of course, people remember so many of Murray’s lines; I am just fortunate to have featured in some of them. The reaction to Nigel Mansell’s win was also amazing. “And colossally, it’s Mansell!” What can you say to that? Brilliant.
And, of course, all the blunders. Nowadays people are so po-faced and commentators are given a hard time. But Murray was never precious. He knew what his listeners wanted and he did not mind being the slightly funny, overheated, excitable one. That gave viewers the sense that they were slightly ahead of “dear old Murray” and they could laugh with him at his eccentricities.
For over a decade Murray’s double act with James Hunt captivated viewers. They were from two different planets, thrown together. It was like the yin and the yang. Murray also had this “Alan Whicker, Brit abroad-type persona”. You would turn on the TV and there was this slightly static microphone voice from Brazil saying that he had just squatted 30 mosquitos in one blow or something. James was still a driver, with a driver’s attitude. Somehow it worked. It is not an easy magic to create. I appreciate it even more now that I work on Sky’s F1 coverage.
My thoughts go out to his wife of 65 years, Elizabeth. I remember when Murray retired, there was a lunch at the Cafe Royal in London where Steve Rider got her up on stage. This was the first time anybody had really heard of Mrs Walker. She did not much like the limelight, but she plucked up the courage to be interviewed by Steve. He said something like: “Now Murray’s retired you must be glad he will be around a bit more?” She just said emphatically, “No!” Murray sat there with a huge smile and chuckled. The room was in stitches. Bless you Elizabeth for sharing your husband with us.
Murray will be so missed because his voice summed up a sport, an era, for millions. I did not hear his famous commentary from 1996 until I got home from Japan, a few days later. But it has become the defining memory of my championship win 25 years ago. Now he has left us all with a lump in our throats.
But the love for Murray is best summed up by a fan who tweeted: “Murray made us all feel like we were his friends.” What an epitaph.