Rush, and a rush of memories

We’ve just been to see the film Rush, the story of the Formula One motor racing rivalry between drivers James Hunt and Niki Lauda. Loved the film, a great story handled well.

The story was special to me because I interviewed Lord Hesketh, the boss of Hunt’s racing team, after their win at Silverstone in 1974 (a non-championship race).

I rocked up to the Hesketh country mansion at Easton Neston near Towcester on a  reporting assignment for the Chronicle and Echo newspaper. Hesketh was two years younger than me (I was 25), and was an infamous playboy. (I was a playboy with no fame of any kind).

He turned up at the door to take me to the stables to look at the race car, but wandering in the background was the comedian Willie Rushton, who was in his dressing gown, and James Hunt was possibly there as well. (My memory is  fuzzy about the details).

The young Lord drove me the short way to the stables in a luxurious motor home. There were dozens of empty champagne bottles rolling around the floor and on one wall hung a strange rubber mask and tube. “What’s the mask for?” I asked. He replied: “That’s oxygen – it’s terrific for the hangovers.”

I’ve always been a fan of motor racing and spent a fair bit of time watching the cars at Silverstone (near Northampton). I also drove around the track there a few times – once in my Cortina GT at a track day and a couple of times in a Formula Ford racing car as part of a track experience day. I won those track days (a big prize!) by posting the fastest laps on a big slot car circuit at the Racing Car Show in London.

Me in a Formula Ford at Silverstone (in 1969?)

Us lads couldn’t afford the Grand Prix race days, but we went along to the practice days at Silverstone. You could walk around the pits and get a close look at the cars and drivers. You could also get a good look at the drivers’ girlfriends, who were as spectacular as the cars. I’ll never forget Jochen Rindt’s girlfriend (wife) Nina in a skin-tight jumpsuit (probably) in 1969. This made a tremendous impression on my young (21) mind.

I’d met Hesketh before when I reported on his 21st birthday party. It was a memorable do, especially because a family friend turned up with a hot-air balloon and the Lord’s mum, Lady Hesketh, climbed into the basket and disappeared into the distance. She was an unmistakable figure because she’d lost an eye in a car crash and wore a black eye-patch in a splendidly piratical style.