Readers Write

Never wrong. Always right. Right as in, correct. The font of all knowledge. Above reproach. And well into the classic racing scene/world/memory game (delete as appropriate).

Dear CR Your ‘Race of Attrition’ article in the November edition of Classic Racer regarding the present day breakdown rate in the Isle of Man classic races is always an interesting subject to ponder on. There are, I’m sure, many theories on the subject, all worth a listen to. But reading your article gave me a smile and reminded me of the chats I used to have with my neighbour, the late Phil Kettle, who as you know was Francis Beart’s right-hand man, the other part of the Beart Equipe for many years through the ‘50s and ‘60s. Many a happy hour was spent in Phil’s kitchen listening to the tales of the TT and Manx GP races of years gone by, often interrupted by Mrs Kettle adding the funny bits from the front room (who was the man whose exhaust fell in the road at the start?). Ah, Phil would say, better not dwell on that too long. But the lengths they both went to, preparing those bikes was something else, and the modifications they made were of such detail, that unless they were pointed out, it would have been hard to even spot them. Was it their Brooklands backgrounds, together with Bill Lacy and others (they had all done their time there), part of the equation? And all those long, flat out races, did this have anything to do with it or is it today’s lack of facilities that make it difficult to do any comparable testing? Phil was a great engineer who I’m sure was blessed with a photographic memory and who regarded the work they did very seriously but also saw the amusing side of things. A small anecdote he quoted more than once to me was, with a wry smile on his face, that you could take a good racing motorcycle and prepare it for races at Brands Hatch or Mallory Park and have a satisfactory result with it. Take that same motorcycle to the Isle of Man and it would fall to bits, so it used to happen to the best of them as well, but not that often. Phil is not forgotten here in Chertsey, the little lady who now lives in Phil’s bungalow often passes the time of day while walking her little dog. He used to be John Surtees’s mechanic, you know, she says with a proud nod of her head. As Phil would say, better not dwell on that too long but it was true. Colin Grant Chertsey, Surrey