I’M FINALLY OUT OF THE CAR CLOSET
Taking delivery of a new Ford Mustang is a guilty pleasure which many Supercars enthusiasts might be surprised to hear
To trade in these wings on some wheels,
Climb in back, heaven’s waiting on down the tracks,
Oh oh, come take my hand, We’re riding out tonight to case the promised land,
Oh oh oh oh, Thunder Road, Oh, Thunder Road, oh, Thunder Road
BRUCE Springsteen just paints the picture, doesn’t he? What is there not to like about ‘The Boss’?
If you haven’t caught it yet, watch Bruce on Netflix in Springsteen on Broadway. Killer stuff.
This week’s column is about wheels. After I wrote my article on the GC600, I received hundreds of communiqués – I had zero idea so many were still interested in my opinion on motorsport. Anyway, I’m grateful for the feedback.
Now I’m about to come out of the car closet!
After years of being accused of favouritism, with being in love with HRT or favouring one driver over another etc etc in my V8 Supercars days, the truth is I’m a closet Ford Mustang fan.
This week, after patiently waiting for 12 months, I raided the piggy bank and purchased the limited-edition Mustang Bullitt from that car dealer of dealers, Mr Steve (slick and straight out of the ’60s) Kelly. Yes, it’s pure unadulterated indulgence, it’s not economical, it’s loud (love the V8 sound) and it’s certainly not PC. But who cares?
It’s a beautiful work of art! Van Gogh couldn’t get close.
For me it has the three attributes a good car needs – a V8 engine, a steering wheel and a radio.
So now you know, I’m out of the closet. (Is there a government grant for this – just asking?)
One consistent question from my motorsport enthusiasts is, when are you coming back?
Let me answer by quoting an old GC friend and epic steerer, Dick Johnson: “The only thing you get from looking back is a sore neck.”
But thanks for asking. I have new challenges now in footy land and need to work hard on those. I’m committed 110 per cent to that.
But reading some of your great feedback, I fully subscribe to the fact it was a remarkable period. We collectively achieved a lot.
I had a superb team at V8s and together we over achieved. Many of them have gone on to impressive things. The sport had a lot of terrific characters, who loved cars and loved to race. I miss those times and those guys – people like Wayne Cattach, Larry Perkins, Ross and Jimmy Stone, Russell Ingall, Shane Howard, Gary Coleman, Terry Morris, Mark Larkham, John Crennan and Garry Rogers to name but a few. And of course, not forgetting Neil Crompton, who is responsible for singlehandily getting me into the sport in the first place. Blame him!
But some were incredibly special – two come immediately to mind: Barry Sheene and Mark Skaife.
They always say, if you meet a tremendous person, you absolutely remember the first time you met. So true with both these champion racers.
I first met Baz at, of all places, the Royal Sydney Golf Club. After 20 minutes speaking, we hit it off. He and I parted with Barry telling me: “This place is a bit toff for us cock, we better find a new meeting place or people will think we’re an item!”
Barry was just an outstanding guy. He had made the Gold Coast his home. I loved him, I loved everything about him; he was bloody funny, told it like it was and what he didn’t know about motorsport – both two and four wheels – was not worth knowing.
He could talk to the Queen and hold his own one minute and then stop and talk to the guy sweeping the streets the next – they both felt special in Baz’s company, as did a lot of people. It’s years on and I still miss him. When they made Barry, they broke the mould. Bloody special.
Skaifey a long, long time ago was my first motorsport chauffeur! I had dropped into the workshop of Fred Gibson to introduce myself. I had some bright ideas to transform Australian motorsport ...
I met Mark that morning and he offered to drive me down to Philip Island to visit the Group A touring cars (a name I was soon to change) racing there that day. He and his team could not raise the money to race that meeting.
We hit it off and I’m proud to say we are still riding together 23 years later. (I might even let him have a go behind the wheel of the Ford – it’s only fair he gets to drive a great car, after all these years).
People see his enormous contribution to motorsport through his race results, which speak for themselves.
What I witnessed from a front row seat though was an even bigger contribution. His time and relentless effort off the track in helping build the sport was outstanding, and boy he loved a debate!
In fairness, we were both a bit passionate, which sparked many a heated debate over a long time. Like Barry, he is special, and like Barry he is bloody funny.
Now seeing I’m coming clean after all these years, as much as I gave them grief, I really enjoyed some of those motorsport journos – guys like Mark Fogarty, Bruce Newton, Leigh Diffey and Gordon Lomas.
I tried to drive them nuts. Sparring with them became my version of an elevated high, almost aphrodisiac. If I was bored at a race meeting, nothing like making some ridiculous statement to the media to lift my spirits (and get their reaction).
What I would give to ask some pertinent questions at a Supercars press conference now – a lot of questions, not sure about the responses. You could sell tickets.
And we achieved it all from the mighty Gold Coast.
In the early days lots of cynics and pessimists told us it wouldn’t work, but the more people told us it couldn’t be done, the harder our small but