Other journalists, some rally officials and even spectators wrote or spoke disparagingly about him, and that got me annoyed. There was another irritation which bothered me but not him. Then out of the blue the phone would ring: “John? Colin”, no remorse, no apology, it was as if he had just been speaking to you an hour before. Timekeeping? Hair-raising stuff, often accompanied by the screech of hot rubber on tarmac with a heat haze rising from the brake discs. All down to just one man.ĭon’t get me wrong, he was no angel. I have seen Subaru Legacys go ballistic, Metros sprinkled with magic dust and mental MkII Escorts. I have witnessed Sunbeams that defy gravity, Novas that flew, and big, lumbering Ford Sierras that could have danced in Swan Lake. Indeed, I was disappointed when he left the WRC behind because I felt there were more world titles to come and records to be broken. I don’t use the word ‘hero’ lightly, but in this unique case, that one single word sums up how I regard a prodigious talent.
I’m no jet-setting foreign correspondent flitting from one World Rally to the next, but I feel privileged just the same, because ‘I was there’ when an extraordinary talent first started to blossom. Over recent weeks we’ve heard from the great and the good, now it’s my turn. first published in ‘Motorsport News’, September 2007 ….
Colin was, and always will be, a true Scottish legend.Full Throttle – Nothing Less …. I will forever be grateful that Colin shared that moment with me. Possibly the last time that Colin drove a Metro in front of his adoring Scottish fans. It was and still is the biggest thrill I have ever experienced in a motor car.Īnd looking back, it was an incredibly poignant moment. I was wearing a radio mic and was allegedly commentating on my experience. What you can hear on the PA system is me shrieking from the co-driver’s seat. Launched into the stage with a sheer brutality that took my breath away. How utterly bizarre.īeing strapped in next to the legend, that enormous throbbing engine growling menacingly behind us, was quite surreal. Yep, the gear knob that Colin was about to give some hearty abuse to was exactly the same as in my much loved car. I loved that car.Īnd part of my car was in this testosterone fuelled Metro. Now as a student I’d been the very proud owner of an MG Metro, it was intimidatingly black with go-fast red trim.
#Cars in colin mcrae rally 04 from good to bad driver#
Oh my good God! I was going for a spin in a rally car with quite possibly the most legendary driver ever to pull a helmet on! And not just in any rally car, this was the monstrous Group B MG Metro 6R4.Īs I squeezed myself through the roll cage, I was good few kilos heavier in those days, the first thing that struck me was, bizarrely, the gear stick. That was, until he turned to me and said with that slightly cheeky, quizzical look: “How about a wee spin in the Metro, big man?” Colin’s laid-back, laconic style was completely calming. I was an enormous sports fan, and world champions in any sport from Scotland are revered back home. Long before I’d taken an active interest in rallying, Colin had been a superstar and hero to me. I’d met Colin a few times but still felt nervous in his presence. There were many big names from Scottish motorsport present that day but the undoubted star of the show was Colin McRae. In 2007 I was fortunate enough to be asked to compère the Scottish Motorsport Show in Lanark. This is the story of my unforgettable ride with a legend. You can watch the slightly shaky clip and listen to me shrieking my way around the demonstration stage in the attached video. I’m forever indebted to a lovely chap called Andrew Melville who came up to me out of the blue in Carlisle and gave me a CD with this clip on it. Until a year or so ago on a visit to the Pirelli Rally, I genuinely didn’t believe that there was any footage of this unforgettable experience in existence. Well, a video of a truly incredible experience. Coming in at number eight on my list of personal memorable moments from my time in rallying is a video.
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