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| THE RACE. SPECIAL |
|
The Race is a TV programme that takes 10 people who have, supposedly, a love of fast cars and who are prepared to undergo a week of intensive and demanding training to see if
a) they can obtain an ARDS racing licence and b) to see how they perform in a series of races in ever faster facing cars, culminating with a grand final in open wheel, single
seat Formula Fords. The event is run along the lines of a short championship. The programme also had the added 'interest' of making it a boys against girls competition
to establish whether men really were better drivers than women, or not. The ten were divided into two teams, five men in one, under the leadership of ex Formula One driver Eddie
Irvine, and five women in the other, under the leadership of Formula One driver David Coulthard. Each team had a senior instructor, the men had Steve Deeks, and the girls had
Liz Halliday, both highly successful racing drivers. Points were awarded to the contestants based on their results in each event and, to add 'interest', a separate event was
held each day where two competitors, one from each team, went head to head against each other. These were called Rev Head challenges and the winner received a five point bonus.
At the end of the week, and after the final race, the competitor with the most points wins. In the case of two competitors scoring the same points, the person with the fastest
lap time in the final race would be declared the Grand Champion.
Although the show was another in a long line of Reality TV shows we, the contestants, were assured on many occasions that in this instance The Race was, first and foremost, a sporting event and the intrusion of the cameras into areas outside of the track would be kept to a minimum. We were also told, repeatedly, that the show was going to be very different to the tackiness often seen on other Reality TV shows and would treat the people involved with respect. It was all about, we were told, us taking on the challenge of becoming racing drivers and the strains and dramas that would unfold on that journey. We were promised that it would not be the usual 'Tabloid TV' style show and that the seriousness, and danger, of what we were going to be attempting would be treated with due regard. This, as it turned out, was not entirely true. As the week progressed it became increasingly obvious that it was, pretty much, along the lines of normal Reality TV shows and we came to accept that. As competitors we concentrated on enjoying what was, nonetheless, an amazing experience, making those parts of the programme where competition really did matter as exciting as possible and doing our best to not let the constant juggling of the rules to change the results annoy us too much. It was a fantastic event to be involved in, spoiled only slightly by the shows directors constant need to change rules, concentrate on mistakes rather than successes and to seemingly make things up as they went along. The contestants were: Gary Numan, Nigel Benn, Les Ferdinand, Brian Johnson, Nick Moran, Melissa Joan hart, Jenny Frost, Ingrid Tarrant, Ms Dynamite and Tamara Ecclestone. Before reading any further please be very aware that these are my thoughts and opinions and I do NOT speak for anyone else that appeared in the programme. |
| Saturday. Nov 4, 2006 |
| Saturday got off to the kind of start I was expecting. The meeting of the contestants in a nice hotel not far from Silverstone race
track. Interviews with each of us about our hopes and fears for the coming week and a lot of filming of us all getting to know each other and talking about why we were
there. I was impressed from the very beginning by how friendly the other contestants were and found myself, surprisingly, making friends. My plan had been to go in, drive the cars,
get out. I hadn't expected to make friends and certainly not on the first day. It immediately created an atmosphere of closeness amongst us and helped us to do battle with
the TV people as a solid unit, rather than as individuals. And we did have some things to 'discuss' with the TV bosses as the week progressed.
Our first inkling that things were going to be a little more 'Big Brother' than 'Sporting Event' came in the afternoon when we were asked to go through a fitness programme. None of us had been advised that fitness would be an issue in the weeks and months leading up to the show and, clearly, those of us that were unfit would have no chance to do anything about it over the next seven days. This fitness programme seemed to be nothing more than an excuse to show various celebrities looking like death warmed up as they struggled to keep up. I was the worst by miles. Since getting back from the American tour I had done nothing but junk food day trips with the children and any vague level of fitness that I might have achieved during the touring was long gone. I thought I was finished there and then. Les Ferdinand and Nigel Benn both helped me struggle through, something I was very grateful for. The final indignity was an ice bath, outside in winter, which has to be the most painful thing I've ever experienced. The reality of Reality TV was beginning to make itself known and I was having a lot less fun than I'd hoped for. |
| Sunday. Nov 5, 2006 |
| Sunday we were taken to the track for the first time. We were shown around Silverstone and all its facilities, from the podium to the
pits, and from Race Control to the Medical Centre. It was fascinating to discover what was involved in running a race meeting at a major international race circuit. While we
were there a race meeting was in progress and some of us were a little concerned about our coming week when a major accident occurred to one of the racers resulting in some very
serious injuries. It was a sobering moment and reminded us all that we were being dropped in at the deep end. The quality of our instructors would make all the difference
to our own well being, as would the safety concerns and procedures employed by the TV crew. The instruction was fantastic, from Steve and Liz, but I was never convinced about
the other side of things. Accidents make good TV after all. I will never know for sure but on a number of occasions the main thrust of the programmes seemed to be about who
had an accident and not who drove well. For sure, if you wanted to get the most TV time all you needed to do was crash or spin the car and you could guarantee a lengthy
interview and endless repeats of your car spinning. I guess though, for those people that had to suffer the embarrassment of it, those endless repeats were the last thing they wanted.
To their credit, all the competitors took it very seriously and I can't think of a single moment, crash, spin or other incident that was anything other than people new to racing trying very hard to learn and go quickly. It was the TV shows constant repetition of spins and crashes, and the very rare arguments that flared up, that made it clear that it was much more 'Tabloid TV' than we had hoped for. After the tour we were taken to the compound where we would remain, apart from our track time, for the duration of the week. It was a small area, I'm guessing about 50 yards by 50 yards, and the two teams were kept in tour buses, one per team. This caused a few ripples of discontent amongst the men inparticular. I thought I would be fine actually. I've spent big chunks of my life in tour buses and have always enjoyed living on them. The difference in this case was the toilet and shower arrangements. The toilets and showers were in separate, and tiny, trailers behind the buses. It was November, freezing. The buses had no circulating air so during the night it got very stale, people were sleeping badly, if at all, and everyone was waking up with headaches. The bunks were so small that even I, and I was the smallest apart from Brian, couldn't lay on my back and lift my knee up without hitting the roof of the bunk. For bigger men like Nigel and Les it was very cramped and, I would imagine, somewhat claustrophobic. If you needed a trip to the toilet in the night you had to dress, because of the cold outside, which invariably woke people up, if they had managed to get to sleep, and then you froze your arse off when you ventured outside. A shower was an exercise in cold endurance and by the second day everyone had colds, aches and pains and few had slept more than two or three hours a night. The buses had been called 'customised double-decker coach motels' in the pre show paperwork. They didn't really work out for the men although the girls seemed happy enough. The compound also had the Formula One Red Bull Racing Team's mobile lounge where we were fed excellent meals three times a day and where most of the briefings and debriefings were carried out. However, the 'latest high tech racing simulators where the contestants can hone their skills to perfection', as promised in the pre show blurb, were nowhere to be seen. In fact, when racing was over we were all left to our own devices but, as we were allowed to bring very little in with us, boredom set in pretty quickly. It took two or three days to even get a TV to work and then it seemed to be limited to one channel per night as changing it, from what I could gather, was an issue. Guards were posted at the entrance to make sure nobody left although I'm not sure that anyone could have stopped Nigel if he had really wanted to leave. We had to be up each morning by 7 to get dressed and be at breakfast by 8 and then on to the track. We then, apart from a short dinner break, drove until darkness when we were then shepherded back to the compound. We were also expected to take part in the live programme each evening. Even when sleep was possible the schedule usually meant that people were getting about six hours a night at the most. Part of the programme was concerned with our attempts to qualify for the prestigious ARDS racing licence. The first part is a written exam and we all sat for this late on sunday afternoon. Frustratingly we were told that the results would not be announced until the next day. Many of us went to bed fearing the worst. |
| Monday. Nov 6, 2006 |
| On monday we met our F1 team leaders for the first time. David Coulthard was the leader of the girls team and Eddie Irvine the leader of the
boys. Both are highly intelligent and quick witted men and were an endless source of anecdotes and useful information. I had expected them to be figureheads only and rarely seen
but they were very involved and good company at all times.
Monday however started with the results of the ARDS written exam. Of the ten only four of us had passed and luckily I was one of them. Brian Johnson, Nick Moran and Ingrid Tarrent being the other three. For me it was a massive relief. I hadn't expected to be so concerned about doing well, I thought the week would just be a great experience. It's only when you get in to the daily routine do you become aware of the high potential for making yourself look like an idiot. I felt under pressure, increasingly, from that moment onwards. The remaining six would take the test again later in the week. After breakfast we were taken to the Stowe practice track, inside the Silverstone complex, and introduced to the first cars of the week, the Lotus Exige. This was to be the driving test for the ARDS licence. The training was cut back to fit in with the television schedule which obviously made it harder for the competitors and for the instructors to get us up to the required level. We were given just three 15 minute trips, the third being the one that would be used to pass or fail us. I was lucky in managing to pass on the second trip so, when Ms Dynamite's car broke down, they brought me in early and gave my car to her so that she could finish her time. When all this was over one or two people were still not at the required level but, considering that the training had been cut back, it wasn't surprising. A quick break for lunch and then we were taken back to the track for a 'surprise'. The surprise was that we would race full blown Maserati racing cars in a series of one on one sprint laps. What no-one was told, and we didn't find out until the live TV show that evening, was that it was a time trial. This makes a big difference. For example Nick Moran and Les Ferdinand both won their heats quite easily and so backed off towards the end to avoid risking spinning the car. If they had known it was a time trial they would have kept hard on it until the end. This slightly chaotic schedule and preparation, none of us knowing exactly what was going on, was very common in the first few days. My own Maserati lap was a shambles in terms of time, although I won the heat, as I gave up two corners to the fearless Jenny Frost who was coming through whether I was there or not. If they really wanted to know who was the quickest they should have sent us out one at a time. Again though, the needs of television and potential drama, understandably I have to say, were more important than the integrity of the event. It's worth pointing out also that these were genuine racing cars, ferociously powerful and quick, left hand drive, paddle gear levers, slick tyres and rear wings and we were each given about three minutes in them before having to race. In at the deep end didn't quite do it justice. Truthfully though everyone was buzzing afterwards. It might have been a bit of a fiasco as a competition but no-one could deny that they were stunningly exciting cars to drive, and to be racing against another competitor on the first track day was a huge boost to our confidence. Later that night we took part in the first live TV show hosted by Denise Van Outen. To say that we were unhappy would be to massively underestimate the feelings amongst us. The show was horrible. Pathetic double entendre's in every sentence, belittling and embarrassing commentary, no credit given to people doing something very difficult and demanding and just a never ending series of little quips and put downs. It was shit and no-one was happy. Least of all Nick Moran who suffered the most. A little montage of his mistakes was put together, mistakes that most people had made plenty of during the day, and they finished by saying he was 'just rubbish'. It was very unfair and inaccurate and upset everyone. The final points score for the day, although not entirely representative, put the boys well ahead of the girls. This was to be the start of daily tricks and rule changes as the show desperately tried to make things closer than they really were. Unfortunately their efforts to manipulate the competition were blatantly obvious to most people and so made a mockery of the whole Championship. Many people that I have spoken to since have said that this ruined the programme for them which is a great shame. A walk over victory by the boys would surely have been preferable to the ridiculous fudging of events. It seemed to me that the whole Boys against Girls idea was a bit flawed to begin with but I suppose it was seen by the show creators to add spice to the event. I don't think it worked. |
| Tuesday. Nov 7, 2006 |
| Tuesday started with a big meeting with the TV bosses. I think most people got to have a say and our disappointment with the style of the
programme and the way it was treating the participants was made very clear. It was obvious that this was, sadly, going to be a Tabloid TV style of show after all and all we could
do was try to keep it as focused on the track as much as possible. They apologised, removed certain cameras, promised the script would be written with more emphasis on our
achievements rather than making a mountain out of every little mistake and so on. Not much changed to be honest.
Tuesday's Rev Head challenge was between Brian Johnson from AC/DC and Melissa Joan Hart, better known as Sabrina The Teenage Witch, and they raced Mud Karts. Brian won, got his five point bonus and then came over to the rest of the team who were supposed to have been practising in Monster Trucks. Monster Trucks are massive 2000 horse power trucks with huge balloon tyres that essentially leap over rows of parked cars. It's a huge thing in America although not so big here. The machines were terrifying though. Deafeningly loud they towered over you and it was quite a climb to even get up to the drivers seat. They also ran on Methanol which, if the truck were to catch fire, burns with an invisible flame. The Health and Safety briefings did nothing to make me feel safe or healthy. We were supposed to have several runs each in both trucks, the blue one being called Big Foot, and the red one named Little Devil. Unfortunately they broke down so often that by lunch I had only had a short 2 minute trip in the red one and some people still hadn't had a go at all. To make matters worse the course we were to race had three jumps, over 2 cars, 3 cars and 5 cars respectively. Our practice run was on flat grass so the first time we would race would be the first and only time we would actually jump. When I say jump, make no mistake, these huge machines get completely airborne. After lunch I managed to squeeze in a very quick trip in Big Foot. It was obvious immediately that this truck was much faster than the red one and a little easier to steer. Luckily though, as Brian had won the Rev Head challenge that morning the rules were that the boys team would get to pick the truck it wanted to use in the race. And so we come to rule change number one and the start of the TV campaign to try and keep the scores close by any means possible. The girls would drive the blue truck apparently. So be it. The two owners of the trucks did one run by way of demonstration and both trucks came very close to rolling over. I was absolutely convinced that the TV crew would abandon the event as too dangerous. I saw the girl coming over to tell me just that and was speechless when she said 'Are you ready?'. I honestly couldn't believe it. Still, Ingrid was going to be my competition and I could see her striding towards Big Foot so off I went. I was frightened, no doubt about it, but when the lights went green I floored it and took off immediately over the first row of cars, landed badly, shot sideways and could have sworn that my feet touched my eyeballs, so savage was the sensation. A quick flick of the wheel in a feeble attempt to line up for the next row of cars, another boot full of throttle and another leap skywards over the next row of cars. Bad landing number two and by the time I had limped around the turn to head towards the final, and largest, row of cars I could see that Ingrid was slightly ahead. The only thing that had been drilled into us was the need to have the truck lined up correctly before attempting a jump. I was way off but I saw Ingrid surge forward and so had no choice but to go for it. I was sure I had lost but I at least wanted to finish with a mighty leap into the air. The truck took off, came down heavy but, luckily, stayed upright and shot across the finish line. I looked over and was amazed to see no sign of Ingrid and Big Foot. What I did see was an emergency vehicle, blue lights flashing, heading on to the course. I looked over my shoulder to see Big Foot a pile of smoking wreckage, upside down by the finish line. I ran back to the wreckage and was very relieved to hear that Ingrid was okay. Almost immediately the question of who had won became a point of some heated discussion. After our run they decided that jumping was too dangerous and so took the cars away and ran another heat without the jumps. This time Nick Moran beat Ms Dynamite. Unfortunately at this point the light went and the Monster Truck competition was abandoned. We were then amazed to hear, during that evenings live programme, that the 'Race Director' had decided to give everyone 5 points each. It was becoming just a little silly. We were doing our best to make it a genuine competition, despite the fears and dangers, only to see it all twisted around for the sake of TV. I think it achieved nothing. The competition remained very one sided and people watching on TV could surely see what was going on with the questionable decisions and rule changes and so lost interest in it as a Sporting Event. The argument about who had won the heat between me and Ingrid rumbled on. At some point during one of the live evening shows they put up a still shot of the two trucks and drew a ridiculous red line across the screen that supposedly represented the finish line and the win was awarded to Ingrid. Not for the first time the mythical 'Race Director's word was given. No-one ever met this person. The fact is I had to walk across the finish line to get to Ingrids smoking wreckage so I knew exactly where the finish line was and Big Foot hadn't even reached it let alone cross it first. It became a ridiculous argument. At one point, when they showed their silly red line graphic, I walked on to the set and tried to point out that you could actually see the genuine finish line painted on to the grass, alongside the finish cones and at the end of the banner that had FINISH written on it. The finish line being at the end of the banner with the F not the H. They quickly took the graphic off the screen and refused to show it again. There is an overhead shot of the accident that they stopped showing as it shows quite clearly my truck crossing the finishing line whilst Big Foot is still tumbling, well short of the line. |
| Wednesday. Nov 8, 2006 |
| Wednesday saw us move onto the National Circuit and away from the practice track. Initially we went round in the Lotus's again
and the best lines for going around it quickly were pointed out to us. I was very disappointed with my mornings drive. I couldn't achieve any consistency and it
was a rather demoralised man that stood for the briefing prior to the afternoons big race. This was to be our first proper track race as a group and it was to be
a ten lap race in race prepared Mini's. In the morning however, while I was doing badly in the Lotus, Les Ferdinand was going head to head with Ms Dynamite (Naomi) in the
Rev Head challenge, Hovercraft.
I'd been quite surprised the previous evening when the Rev Head challenge was announced because I couldn't understand why I wasn't picked to do it. I've owned a small hovercraft for about 25 years so I was an obvious choice to drive one. I just couldn't understand why Eddie Irvine chose Les, perhaps our biggest team member. It was later that we found out that the 30 second discussion in the studio to decide who was best suited for the challenge was a farce. The two team captains had already been told by the TV crew who they had to pick. The discussion in the studio was purely for show and meant nothing. As soon as we found out the discussion became a game in who could talk rubbish the loudest. Voices loudly proclaiming 'Wibble' and 'Rhubarb' became part of the nightly event. Anyway, the hovercraft challenge. Les had been in a different class to Naomi all morning during practice. His athletic ability plus his skills as a helicopter pilot meant that he took to controlling the hovercraft with ease. Naomi struggled a little more but still did well as the morning progressed. The result though was something of a foregone conclusion. During the challenge Les went into the water a little out of shape and created a bit of a splash, some water coming in to his machine. Some if it went on to the exhaust which made it look a little smokey but was nothing more than steam. The drive belt from engine to propeller came off and so Les was stuck with a perfectly functioning engine but no drive and so settled onto the water. The rules clearly stated that any mechanical failure would result in a restart. For some reason they decided that the belt coming off was not a mechanical failure and refused to allow Les a restart. Naomi did her run, got stuck for nearly 15 minutes in the long grass (or so I was told) but still got the win. It was becoming increasingly obvious that any trick or half chance at tweaking the rules in light of events was always going to be used to keep the girls in the game. At this point I think we gave up hoping for a proper competition and started to have fun, ridiculing loudly each attempt by the show to adjust the scores artificially during the evening live broadcast. The Mini race back on the main National track saw the men at the front of the grid, for the last time that week, and we were allowed two practice sessions in the cars before the race itself. I'm not sure who was quickest in practise but I was, I think, in the top three and so went into the race confident that I could get some good points and help my score total improve. It needed to. On friday evening two contestants, one from each team, were going to be evicted and I was dreading being the one evicted from the boys team. So far, although doing very well on the ARDS, winning my Maserati heat and Monster Truck race (although denied by the show) my points standing was not looking too good. I think I was 5th or 6th at this stage. I needed to do well in the Mini's. To make matters worse I'd been amazed at how quick the other members of the Mens team were proving to be. Amongst the girls at least two of them, Jenny and Melissa, had proven that they were not only brave but quick, if a little inconsistent, and so were a real threat. Tamara was struggling a little but had also shown that, if she could keep it all together, she could also be quick. I'm sure the girls would have welcomed a more genuine competition as they were all putting a lot into it. Unfortunately the Mini race was something of a disappointment for me. I made an excellent start, was in the lead half way through lap 1 and then, by trying too hard too early, went wide at the Brooklands corner, slid across the gravel and grass and ended up back on the track, in front of everybody, but facing backwards. It was a tad embarrassing. I saved face slightly by at least keeping the engine going and working my way back to a 4th place finish but it was amateurish stuff and I learned another big lesson. You don't need to try and win at all costs on the first lap. Brian won in very convincing style and gave a brilliant interview afterwards, although most if us needed a Geordie interpreter to figure out what he was saying. I thought I was one step away from eviction and I slept little all night. One bit of good news was that they brought in a couple of little mobile homes for people to move into, out of the bus, and I was allowed to bring my own caravan. It made a big difference to all of us as we were finally able to get a little privacy and to have a chance at getting a decent nights sleep. It was wasted on me that night though as I ran through the Mini race and my mistake time and time again. |
| Thursday. Nov 9, 2006 |
| The thursday morning Rev Head challenge was between Nick Moran and Jenny Frost and was to be a pursuit style race where the competitor
was chased by two other cars whose job it was to knock him or her off the track. The way to win is actually to go slowly as the slower you are going, the more stable the car
and so the harder it is to make it spin and so skid off the track. However, after trying it a few times in practice, it was making for very dull television and the contestants
were told to drive more quickly and be a bit more aggressive. Jenny did a good job but was spun out hard, at over 60 mph, and hit a wall. Nick took the fight back to the chasing
cars and even managed to spin one of them out. It was now very good television and everyone seemed happy, apart from Jenny who had lost to Nick of course. It was only during
the live programme that evening, and unbeknown to either team or team captains, that Denise announced that Nick had driven too aggressively and that his points were to be awarded
to Jenny, and that the boys would have to start the next days race at the back of the grid, regardless of the result of the friday Rev Head challenge, as an extra punishment.
Nick was furious and the studio crowd saw it for what it was, another attempt at artificially closing the gap between the two teams. It would be easy to think that this constant
manipulation against us would upset our morale or resolve, certainly our enthusiasm would be dented but, in truth, nothing like that happened. Everyone remained in good spirits,
everyone remained friendly and looked out for each other and all we did was shrug our shoulders and acknowledge the fact that it was all a bit of a stitch up. We were all just glad
to be there, doing something extraordinary in a fantastic, friendly atmosphere. After all, we were at Silverstone, racing cars. For most of us that was more than enough. For some
of us, me included, that was a dream come true.
The thursday main race was to be in Caterhams. These are open cockpit cars that can also be used on the road. Fast and agile they felt alive and very twitchy compared to the Minis of the day before. I loved them. Every practice lap was a pleasure and I felt completely at home in these little pocket rockets. The times showed a similar story as I was quickest throughout practice. As the day progressed it became clear that me and Brian were the quickest and seemed most comfortable handling the cars. In fact, during the practice, we had spent many laps locked together. I was learning to trust Brian completely. I had faith that he would not do anything stupid or reckless and that he would race with skill and determination. It was fantastic fun trying to get the better of him and I was beginning to revel in the competition.
The race itself was non stop pressure. This time it was to be over 15 laps and I was determined to do better than I had in the Minis and take my time. I made a good start and found myself in the lead pretty quickly. By lap 9 I'd managed to pull out a lead of about 9 seconds. Then it all started to get a little difficult. A Safety car was put out onto the track for some reason. Later it was claimed it had been sent out in error. Too bad for me though. That big 9 second lead was brought back to zero as the entire pack were allowed to bunch up behind me again as we followed the safety car for several laps. Then the race was temporarily stopped due to an incident. For me this was a moment of extreme good fortune. Only seconds before the race was stopped I had a major problem with the gearbox of my car and had pulled off the track. The brief pause created as the cars were reorganised back onto the starting grid for the restart allowed me a minute or two to get my car into the pits and for the gearbox to be checked. No-one was sure it would make it to the end of the race but at least I had all the gears again and so took my place on pole position for the restart. This final section of the race became a 3 lap sprint. I was struggling with the tension at this stage and I thought the race was never going to end but it was with a huge feeling of relief that I eventually crossed the line for my first win. It did wonders for my points score and brought me way up the list on the leader board. With only one more race to go before the friday evening cut though I still had to do well in the friday race. Brian failed to finish, getting himself tangled up in avoiding a spinning Les Ferdinand near the end of the race. Winning a motor race is an incredible feeling, even at our beginners level, and I was on cloud nine for the rest of the evening. |
| Friday. Nov 10, 2006 |
| Friday, racing the Lotus Exige on the National circuit at Silverstone. I was very happy with my Caterham race the day before, and I'd
enjoyed the Lotus's on previous occasions on the practice circuit, but my only attempt to drive them on the national circuit, on the wednesday morning, had been less than
successful. I had been so busy trying to master the heel and toe technique, and failing dismally, I'd been unable to drive quickly. I took a back to basics route, went out
for the practice and just let myself come up to speed. By the end of the practice sessions I was quickest, closely followed by Brian as always. Brian was amazing. He was
constantly being prodded by the instructors about his racing lines, that he could do better here and there. I was told I was consistently inch perfect and yet he was still as fast as me. I
was sure that if he sorted out his technique a little he would be quicker so the pressure remained high. I was constantly looking for ways to push harder, be smoother,
anything to squeeze out a little more speed each lap and pull away from Brian.
The mornings Rev Head challenge had been between Ingrid and NIgel Benn driving strange leaning vehicles that were half car, half motorbike. They were chased by two other machines firing paint balls at targets on the rear of each contestants machine. Nigel was adamant that the results were fixed and it did seem as if Ingrid was given a much easier time of it but it's difficult to know for sure. In any event, the girls won the challenge by being hit by one paintball less than Nigel. No-one in the mens team took the result too seriously which is a shame. It could well have been a genuine win but so much rule bending had gone on all week we had lost all faith in the integrity of the competition. All we were interested in was winning the main race each day The Lotus race was to be, for us, a marathon 20 lap event. From my point of view I was well aware that if I messed up I could be going home that evening. If I did well I was probably going to be safe so I felt the pressure badly. I had already been nicknamed 'Iceman Numan' by the other competitors for my seemingly unflappable style but the truth was a little different. In the car, as soon as I was strapped in and ready to go, an icy calm did indeed descend upon me. It was like the old air display days. I just seem to be able to turn it all off and get on with business. Before that though I'm a wreck inside. I can't eat, I can barely talk. It comes across I think as a man deep in concentration and people seemed to admire my steely determination but it wasn't that at all. I was just terrified. I was put at the back of the grid, not for the last time, and so a good start was vital. The Minis had been a rolling start, the Caterhams a standing start. I was happy with either but preferred the standing start. I seemed to have slightly quicker reactions than some of the others and always got away well, in the practices and in the races. Today was no exception and I got another good start. It was a fantastic race, full of drama and spinning cars but I managed to stay out of trouble and take another win. Brian was almost touching my rear bumper as we crossed the line. It was a fantastic feeling to take two victories in a row and I felt a little safer now as the evenings eviction grew closer. We were told to go over to the track-side TV studio early so that we could rehearse the eviction part of the programme. We were horrified by what they had planned for the two unlucky drivers. They were not to be applauded for all that they had achieved throughout the week, they were to be humiliated and made to walk what the script called a 'Walk Of Shame'. We staged a revolt, even David Coulthard and Eddie Irvine joined in, and we refused to take part in the programme unless it was changed. It was the feeling of everyone that no-one should feel ashamed of themselves or be humiliated on national TV. People had passed their ARDS exams and had qualified as genuine racing drivers, that alone was worth a great deal of respect. They had come in with little or no knowledge about racing and yet had successfully competed in several events and done so safely. No-one deserved to be humiliated. Brian was absolutely raging but he spoke for everyone with everything that roared from his mouth that evening. We all knew that someone had to be evicted, that was bad enough, but to be humiliated was unacceptable. Another meeting with the powers that be, who seemed to think we were over-reacting, but they agreed to abandon the Walk Of Shame idea. Nick Moran and Ingrid Tarrant were the two unlucky people chosen and I felt very sorry for them. Nick took it particularly badly but I could see why. They seemed to go for him from day one. Another little cheat was sneaked in by the TV crew during the points scoring, ignoring one of their own rules that said any car to not finish the race would receive no points. Two girls failed to finish and yet both were given points which added another 5 to their total. We were so used to this sort of thing by now so no-one even bothered to bring it up. Our faith in the TV ethic was at an all time low, and nothing that happened over the next few days would do anything to improve it. On the contrary, they were soon to do me the biggest dirty of all. |
| Saturday. Nov 11, 2006 |
| Saturday was Formula Ford practice day. We had already been fitted for the cars earlier in the week. Mine was Number 6, a blue
and white car that I loved immediately. I knew that we were going to be part of a very special event, special in my life anyway, and I bonded with it as soon as I sat in it.
I have always been comfortable with machinery, always. I can deal with them, their quirks and temperament, in a way I have never been able to do with people. This little
machine was going to work with me to try and win the final race and, hopefully, the entire championship. Although the final race on sunday was the
jewel in the crown I didn't need to win it to win the overall Championship. I was at 35 points and Brian on 31. If the scoring stayed the same as it had been all week Brian
would need to win and I would have to finish 5th or lower for him to take ultimate victory. I felt pretty safe until I heard about another little twist. It had been decided
that the points on the final day would be worth double their usual value. This meant that I had to win to be sure of winning the Championship. If I came second, and Brian won
the final race, our points would be an equal 51 each. In that instance the Championship would go to the man with the quickest lap time. The pressure just kept on coming.
I was not asked to do a Rev Head challenge so I lost the opportunity of claiming an extra five points for my score. However, it also meant that I raced in all the main races of the week, as did Brian as he did his Rev Head challenge on the ill fated Monster Truck day. I still haven't figured out whether that worked against me or not. The first session of the day was in the Formula Ford's practicing the Heel and Toe technique. I was still a long way from being proficient at it when we moved onto the main track and started putting laps together as practice for the big sunday race. I thought I was doing well but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was the quickest of the day. Brian, as always, was only a fraction of a second behind me. We were so close that the tiniest mistake would put the other one ahead so it gave me no comfort zone whatsoever. It was a big confidence booster though. People were talking about it being between Brian and me and we talked to each other many times as to how we would conduct ourselves to make sure we didn't get caught up in someone elses accident during the race. I was dealt another blow that evening when I found out that another rule change would take place for the main race. Instead of starting on pole position, at the very front of the grid, which I was expecting as the grid was supposed to be determined by our points position in the Championship, it had been decided that the grid would be reversed. This meant that Brian would start number 7 on the grid and I would start number 8, last. It seemed that everything possible was being done, short of sabotaging my car, to make sure that I had as difficult a race as possible. I just let it slide of my back. I had had an absolutely amazing week. I felt very close to the other Celebs, I liked them all enormously, and it felt like we had all been on a major journey together. We were told before we went to bed that the race would be a 25 lap race, our longest yet, and that it would include a compulsory stop and go pit stop. I slept surprisingly well. |
| Sunday. Nov 12, 2006 |
| Sunday morning saw us out on the track as soon as possible for our final practice session. My car seemed to have more understeer than
the day before and so I had some minor changes made to its set up. Also, parts of the track were wet and some curbs, curbs that we could run across the day before, were now
like ice and had to be avoided until they dried. I would need to watch how they changed as the race developed. The car felt good though and I was loving driving it. With all
the practicing we had put in I now had more time in this car than anything else we had driven and, although a long way from being an expert, I was beginning to feel like I
knew it. I had the fastest time from the morning practice and so my confidence remained high. An added pleasure as we lapped the circuit that morning was seeing the crowd
start to arrive and the stands begin to fill with people. It began to feel like a proper motor race and the level of excitement and anticipation just kept on growing.
We had been told that our friends and family would be allowed to visit us in the pit lane before the race but it never happened. We were taken away from our dinner to watch a Formula One demonstration by David Coulthard and, when we tried to return to our meal, were told that the lounge was being dismantled and the food was gone. With an hour to go we were asked to go to the pit lane for a five minute photo call and then not allowed to leave. We were then put into the cars, sent out for the parade lap and lined up on the grid, expecting to start at any second, only to be told to turn off our engines as there would be a 30 minute delay. This turned out to be so that VIP's could visit the grid. It was also used as the time to let our family and friends visit. Missing family was one of the biggest problems throughout the week and then they bring them out to you when your nerves are at fever pitch and you can barely put two words together. Throughout the week, and especially as the Formula Fords got closer, we were reminded again and again about how serious this level of racing was, how dangerous these cars could be and how much concentration we had to bring to our game if we were to get through it safely. So they take away our food, keep us hanging around in a freezing garage for an hour and then throw in a 30 minute delay, including an emotional reunion with loved ones, at the last possible moment. It all seemed a bit unsettling.
The start was perfect. By the end of the third corner I had gone from last to first. Brian was not far behind me and we quickly pulled away from the pack. At the end of the third lap I was amazed to find Ms Dynamite in front. I didn't think we were going quick enough to lap someone after only three laps so I guessed she must have spun off or had a very bad start. I went round the outside of her car on the main straight, having to back off the throttle slightly to avoid drifting onto the grass. I think Brian did clip the grass as he followed me past Naomi. What happened next is unclear. Brian is sure that he didn't touch Naomi's car but, whether he did just clip her front wheel, or whether she turned away thinking they might touch, the result was the same. She turned sharply to the right and speared straight into the pit wall. I saw it happen in my mirror and it looked like a big accident. On TV later the full impact of what happened really struck me. It was a massive, frightening crash. She hit the well, head on, at over a hundred miles per hour and was, apparently, unconscious for a moment. The race was stopped and Naomi was air lifted to hospital as a precaution. It was sad to see her race end that way. She had been so enthusiastic and keen to learn all week.
The race was restarted eventually with me on pole position and Brian right beside me. Away we went again. Brian took me and I was content to sit behind him watching where he was good and not so good, planning where I would have an opportunity to get by him later in the race. I felt I was quicker in several places and decided that a good opportunity to make a small break might come in the pit stop phase. I was called in first, which effectively separated our battle for a while, and I hoped that I would be able to put in some quick laps and be comfortably ahead by time he did his pit stop and came back onto the track. I was amazed to see the pit lane exit light glowing red as I came down the pits to rejoin the race. This red light effectively stopped me from rejoining the race. I sat there for a good 4 or 5 seconds wondering if it was yet another ploy by the TV show to have me disqualified or be given some kind of penalty. They had already introduced a range of extra penalties, given to us at briefing after first practice, above and beyond what was normal for a Formula Ford race. I didn't know what to do but I knew sitting there was costing me the race anyway, so I went through the red light. I was later told that it had been another 'error' and the light should have been green. Whatever it was, instead of being ahead of Brian when he exited the pits after his pit stop I found myself two and a half seconds behind him. For me this was actually the most exciting part of the race. I began to haul him in at over half a second a lap and soon, with about three laps to go I was all over him. Steve Deeks, our instructor, had said if you are behind someone fighting for the lead don't pass them until the last lap or at least not until the second from last lap. I knew it was good advice but with three laps to go I had a perfect opportunity and couldn't resist taking the lead. I had hoped that I would be able to pull away but Brian stuck to me like glue and, in exactly the same place that I took him, he took me back. Try as I might, with just one lap remaining, I couldn't get him back and so we crossed the line, first and second, a mere half a second apart.
It was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. I was told that although I'd come second in the race, and so our points were therefore equal, I had the fastest lap and so was the Grand Champion. This seemed a very fair outcome. Brian had the glory of winning the big race, after a great battle, and I had the glory of winning the overall Championship. Everything seemed to have come good. I was as proud as I think I've ever been when Denise Van Outen announced on the podium that I was the Grand Champion and the cup was presented to me. It was a great moment. I was also given a cup for coming second in the main race. Afterwards everyone got to meet their guests and we had a big party. The news about Naomi was good and so everyone settled down and had a good time. It was a great occasion for everyone involved and numbers were exchanged and promises made to meet up again in the near future. I hope that happens.
For me the entire thing was upset somewhat when I got home and watched the TV coverage of the final race. It came to the podium announcements and I was stunned when I realised they had edited out the announcement that I had actually won the competition. Not only that but no final scores were put up, so no-one really knew who finished where. It was a bizarre ending to say the least. People who had watched the programme all week were left hanging, not knowing what the final outcome was. The obvious conclusion, based on the coverage, was that Brian was the winner. I've even read a statement to that effect in one of the motor sport magazines. I can't begin to explain how deflating it is to go through all of that, to win it, and then to have that win ignored and taken out of the programme. I received an e-mail a few days later from the producer saying that it had been an 'oversight' made during the edit. Luckily, several thousand people at the track witnessed the truth but that knowledge did little to pick up my spirits over the following week.
From my point of view, if I put the disappointment of that 'oversight' to one side, I still had an amazing experience. I learned how to drive quickly, and proved I could race. For me it was a boyhood dream come true. The fact that I was in such excellent company throughout the week only made the experience all the more pleasant and memorable. Our instructors were first class, the people helping with the cars at the track were fantastic, the TV personnel that we dealt with each day on the ground were very kind and helpful and our physio, Nick, was a lifesaver. I would do it again tomorrow, with the same team-mates of men and women, and I would have just as much fun. I just wouldn't think of it as a true sporting event. |
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