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Showing posts with label sport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sport. Show all posts

Motor racing's biggest disaster: Le Mans, 11th June 1955


While we celebrate the start today of the football World Cup in South Africa, (more on the World Cup later), let’s not forget that today is also the 55th anniversary of one of the worst sporting disasters of all time, one in which over 80 people lost their lives. Here’s my piece to mark the anniversary of the 1955 Le Mans disaster from the Daily Express.

RECKLESS BRITISH PLAYBOY BEHIND MOTOR RACING'S BIGGEST DISASTER
Neil Clark


It was the worst – and most ­horrific – disaster in the history of motor racing. On June 11, 1955, at the Le Mans 24-hour race, at least 83 spectators were killed and hundreds more injured when the burning remains of the Mercedes car driven by 49-year-old Frenchman Pierre Levegh, flew into the crowd­ following a terrible on-track collision. A 400-square-yard stretch of cheering ­people became a black, hysterical horror,” reported Time magazine.

The disaster stunned the world and led to some countries banning motor racing altogether. Fifty-five years on, questions remain as to who was to blame for the tragedy, as a BBC4 ­documentary relates.

Was it caused by Mercedes gambling on unproven new technologies? Was the death toll so high because there was a secret fuel additive in a hidden tank which caused Levegh’s car to explode? Was there an official cover-up on the causes of the crash by the French authorities? Or was it all to do with the recklessness of a devil-may-care British driver who had been told he had only a few years to live?

The backdrop to the disaster was intense rivalry between German and British motor-racing teams and their drivers. But the fierce competition had dire consequences for safety.

Motor racing in the Fifties was far more dangerous than today. Safety measures such as guard rails and tyre walls were non-existent. Drivers risked life and limb in every race. Just a fortnight before the Le Mans disaster Alberto Ascari, a dual world champion, had been killed at Monza in Italy. Only four days earlier he had ­narrowly escaped when his car tumbled into Monaco harbour. At Le Mans, six men had died in the race since it began in 1923.

But before 1955 spectators did not expect to be victims.
At the 1955 race more than 250,000 people eagerly awaited a battle between Mercedes, the dominant force in motor sport, and Jaguar, its British rival. Lead driver for Mercedes was Juan Manuel Fangio, the reigning world champion from Argentina, regarded as the greatest driver of all time.


Jaguar’s star was the dashing blond and ultra-patriotic 26-year-old Englishman Mike Hawthorn, a man known to hate all things German. It was said of Hawthorn that if he had been born 10 years earlier he would have been a Battle of Britain pilot. As it was he focused on beating German cars on the race track – calling his own cars “Merc eaters”. But unbeknown to his adoring ­public the Golden Boy was a sick man. In 1954 he’d had a ­kidney removed and was told he would be dead before he was 30. Hawthorn was determined to live his short life to the full. An exuberant character, he smoked and drank to excess, loved parties and piloted his own plane. But his favourite form of recreation was chasing and seducing Europe’s most beautiful women.

In 1953, after celebrating his victory in the French Grand Prix, Hawthorn spent the night in bed with a French girl. She became pregnant but the affair was kept secret and the girl, from a respectable background, was forced to live in a house at the end of her family’s garden until the baby was born. Hawthorn travelled to Paris after his lover had asked him for help and five years later gave his young son a ride in his car when he and his mother visited England.

Hawthorn was also a practical joker. Fellow driver Stirling Moss recalls an occasion when he was standing under a tree outside a pub when he thought it had started to rain. When he looked up he saw Hawthorn poised precariously in the tree, urinating on him.

On the racetrack Hawthorn played to win. He was accused by some of reckless driving and the events at Le Mans did little to dispel that reputation. Around two hours into the race Hawthorn began to slow for a pit stop. The braking caused the car behind him, an Austin Healey driven by British driver Lance Macklin, to pull into the middle of the track. Pierre Levegh’s Mercedes, travelling at 150mph, mounted the back of Macklin’s car and soared into the air. After hitting a mound it exploded and broke up, spraying red-hot shrapnel and debris into the crowd. Levegh was thrown from the car and killed on impact in front of his wife.

Eyewitness Jacques Grelley later said. “I was stepping over bodies – they were everywhere. I couldn’t talk for three hours.” His companion was decapitated with his binoculars still around his neck. As people lay dying, priests administered the last rites.

Incredibly the race continued because organisers believed a mass ­exodus would hinder rescuers. While Mercedes withdrew their drivers six hours later as a mark of respect, Hawthorn was instructed to continue and Jaguar claimed a ­hollow victory.

The European media were quick to blame the playboy British driver for what had happened. A fierce war of words broke out between ­Mercedes and Jaguar. ­Hawthorn protested his innocence. “In my judgment I allowed sufficient time for the driver of any following car to be aware of my intentions and for him to take such action as might be required without being of danger to others,” he said. He considered quitting the sport but the official inquiry exonerated him and said no single person could be held responsible.

The verdict was supported by Belgian racing driver and writer Paul Frere. “It is completely clear from the photographs ­Hawthorn did not make a sudden-brake-and-pull-sharp-right manoeuvre only a short distance from the pits, thereby endangering the cars near him.”

The tragedy could have been put down to many factors. Before the race Pierre Levegh had expressed ­concerns about the speed of the cars in the ­narrow pit straight.

Levegh’s car was made from a ­magnesium alloy which made it lighter and therefore faster but the downside was that it was highly inflammable. Also the car’s brakes were unreliable, a deadly combination.

For years rumours persisted that a secret fuel additive in a hidden extra fuel tank caused the car to explode when it hit the bank, though this has never been proved. The accident led to the imposition of new safety standards at Le Mans. Mercedes left Formula One at the end of the 1955 season, not to return for nearly 40 years.

Hawthorn recovered his appetite for the sport and in 1958 won a thrilling duel with Stirling Moss to become the first ever British Formula One world champion. Having reached the pinnacle of his profession he then decided to retire and planned to marry the model Jean Howarth.

There was no happy ending. But it was not his kidney disease that killed Hawthorne. On a wet morning in ­January 1959, his Jaguar spun off the A3 bypass near Guildford, Surrey, and hit a tree. He died in minutes.

Ironically, it may have been his fierce anti-German sentiment that killed him. A friend had been driving a ­Mercedes on the same stretch of road and Hawthorn, who couldn’t bear to see a German car get the better of his Jaguar “Merc eater”, decided to race against it. So the man whom many held responsible for the horrors of Le Mans, met his own tragic and untimely death less than four years later.

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Boris Johnson wins World Snooker Championship



Only he's now going under the name 'Neil Robertson' and claiming to be Australian...

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The Ten Wrong Sporting Endings


This piece of mine appears in the Observer Sport Monthly magazine.

From Tom Watson at Turnberry 2009 to Holland in the 1974 World Cup, proof that some results just go the wrong way

1 The Open, 2009

When Tom Watson's tee shot found the middle of the fairway on the 72nd hole of the tournament it seemed that we were on the cusp of the most remarkable sporting story ever. A 59-year-old with a replaced hip, who hadn't won a major for 26 years and who had started the tournament at odds of 1500-1, only needed a four to make the fairytale come true. But Watson's 8ft putt for par came up short and the resulting play-off, in which he was easily defeated by the unheralded Stewart Cink, was one of the great sporting anti-climaxes of all time.

2 First Division, 1975-76

The records say that the title was won by Liverpool, but the season belonged to QPR. The west Londoners played the league's most scintillating football, including a 5-1 demolition of champions Derby County at the Baseball Ground. QPR finished their fixtures ahead of Liverpool and for 10 days were champions elect. Liverpool needed to win their last game, away at Wolves, and when the home side went 1-0 ahead it seemed QPR would take their first league title. But three Liverpool goals in the last 15 minutes shattered their dream.

3 Italian Grand Prix, 1967

Jim Clark, the best driver of the season, led until the 13th lap, but after going into the pits for a wheel change found himself in 16th place. He then delivered what many consider to be one of the greatest performances ever seen on a racetrack. By halfway, Clark had moved up to seventh, and with nine laps to go he was third. Two laps later he had regained the lead. It would have been the most sensational grand prix win of all time, but with just over a lap remaining Clark's car developed fuel problems and he finished third.

4 Prix de l'Abbaye, 2008

It should have been Hungarian racing's finest moment for over a hundred years – the victory of national hero Overdose in Europe's top sprint race. The British-bred colt, unbeaten in his 10 previous races, broke quickly from the stalls and soon powered clear of the field to pass the finishing post in a time just outside of the course record. But to the consternation of romantics everywhere, the race was declared void due to a non-opening stall. Overdose was withdrawn from the re-run, which was won by the French-trained favourite.

5 England v India, the Oval, 1979

India, one down in the series, needed to score 438 in 498 minutes to win the fourth and final test at The Oval. Mission impossible? Led by the brilliant Sunil Gavaskar, who scored 221, the tourists batted heroically, reaching 366-2 at one stage, and with one over to go were 15 shy of the total with two wickets remaining. It would have been the highest score ever chased successfully by a team in the fourth innings of the Test match, but the gallant Indians could only score six in the final over and ended nine runs short.

6 Wimbledon, 1973

Popular British player Roger Taylor had failed in Wimbledon semi-finals in 1967 and 1970. But in 1973, with many of the leading players boycotting the tournament, he looked to have a great opportunity of reaching the final. In an epic quarter-final he beat the 17-year-old Björn Borg: a match famous for Taylor's act of sportsmanship at match point, where, having already been declared the winner, he voluntarily offered to replay the disputed point. Alas, in the semi he lost to clay-court specialist Jan Kodes 9-8, 7-9, 7-5, 4-6, 5-7.

7 World Middleweight title fight, 1951

Two months earlier, Randolph Turpin had caused a sensation when he defeated Sugar Ray Robinson on points to become the first British holder of the world middleweight title for 60 years. In the New York rematch, Robinson started the better, but by the ninth round, he was nursing a nasty cut above his left eye. Fearing that the referee would stop the fight, Robinson launched a furious barrage of blows on his opponent, prompting the official to stop the fight in Sugar Ray's favour with just eight seconds of the 10th round remaining.

8 World Cup final, 1974

With their original brand of Total Football, and inspired by the genius of Johan Cruyff, Holland enchanted the world in the 1974 tournament. En route to the final, the Oranje scored 14 goals and conceded just one: highlights included a 4-0 demolition of Argentina and a 2-0 win over holders Brazil. It only took them two minutes to take the lead in the final against home nation West Germany, but a controversial penalty dragged the Germans level and when Gerd Müller added a second, the tangerine dream turned into a nightmare.

9 Super Bowl, 2009

The Pittsburgh Steelers shared the record for most Super Bowl wins while the Arizona Cardinals had only won five play-off games since 1947. The Cardinals' run to the final had been inspired by veteran Kurt Warner, who had worked as a shelf stacker while waiting for a team to take him on. The Steelers took a 20-7 lead, but, in a blistering spell, their underdog opponents scored 16 points to lead with just over two minutes remaining. Then, with 35 seconds left, the Steelers regained the lead, to register their sixth success.

10 World Snooker Championship, 1994

Perennial bridesmaid Jimmy "The Whirlwind" White, who had been a beaten finalist on five previous occasions, led the final frame against Stephen Hendry 37-24 and had an easy chance to pot the black. Surely this time, "The People's Champion", after so many near-misses, would land the sport's greatest prize? But White missed the pot – he later said he twitched as he took it – and Hendry went on to make a break of 58 to land the fourth of his seven championships. For White, it was his last – and best – chance of world championship glory.


Neil Clark defends his selection

A "wrong" ending is one where a fairytale outcome is cruelly denied, where superior play or heroic performances go unrewarded. Often they involve underdogs narrowly losing to more seasoned winners, as in the case of QPR in 1976. Above all, they are endings which, to the neutral observer, just don't feel right. Apart from friends of Stewart Cink, was there anyone watching who didn't feel enormously deflated by Tom Watson's fate at this year's Open? Lots of options were considered – Devon Loch at the 1956 Grand National, the Magnificent Magyars losing to West Germany at the World Cup two years previously – but I feel special affection for Scott Norwood of the flamboyant Buffalo Bills. Facing up to the defensively minded New York Giants in the 1994 Super Bowl, Norwood missed a 47-yard field goal in the dying seconds – to make it worse, it was the first of four finals they lost in a row.

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Tom Watson leads the Open: Greetings from 1975!



Something strange seems to have happened. It seems that I've slipped down some sort of Time Tunnel and have arrived back in 1975.

I've been watching the tv and Tom Watson is leading the British Open Golf Championship by two strokes.

I'll be posting regular updates about life in 1975- it seems too as if QPR could be preparing to make a title challenge for the forthcoming football season and that Prime Minister Harold Wilson is beginning to get inflation under control. It's also great to see pubs where people can smoke to their hearts content and a complete absence of Starbucks and Pizza Express in the High Streets. And boy, a £5 note really goes a long way on a night out!

Seriously though- wouldn't it be great if Watson could roll back the years and win the Open at the age of 59? We've already seen public ownership put back on the agenda, all we want now is Watson to win the Open and It Ain't Half Hot Mum back on our tv screens and we'll be half-way back to the greatest decade of them all.


UPDATE: What a pity. We came oh, so close to witnessing one of the greatest sporting stories of all time. If only Tom Watson had chipped his third shot at the 18th and not used his putter......Had Watson won I agree with the BBC commentator Ken Brown- it would have been the greatest sporting achievement by anyone in the history of sport. To win an Open at the age of 59- 34 years after your first Open victory- and 26 years after your last? It would have been too fantastic for words. And it so very nearly happened.

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Olympic Hero: Ivo Van Damme



With just seven days to go before the start of the 29th Olympic Games, here's my Observer article on my all-time Olympic hero, the great Belgian runner Ivo Van Damme.

Who are your Olympic heroes?

If one day this magazine were to publish a list of the 10 most heroic runner-ups in sporting history, Crisp's gallant weight-carrying performance in the 1973 Grand National, Greasepaint's two defeats in the same race a decade later and Queens Park Rangers' heartbreaking failure to win the 1976 Division One title would figure prominently. But top of the pile, I hope, would be the remarkable performance of a 22-year-old Belgian athlete at the 1976 summer Olympics in Montreal.

Ivo van Damme arrived in Canada with a sporting chance in 800 and 1500 metres. He failed by a narrow margin to return home with two golds, but made a huge impact on a certain 10-year-old watching on television, thousands of miles away in the Midlands.

It wasn't just the narrow nature of his defeats; there was something about van Damme himself that was so different from the other competitors. For a start, he had a beard. For athletes – and indeed all sports stars – long hair was almost compulsory in the mid-1970s. Beards, however, most certainly were not. There was, too, the question of his nationality: being Belgian is not always a plus point but to a devotee of Tintin and Hercule Poirot it most definitely was.

In that long hot summer of 1976, the bearded Belgian became my hero. I had no doubt, that four years hence, at the Moscow Games (to which my uncle ambitiously planned to take all his nephews and nieces in his Bedford van), van Damme would emulate Kornelia Ender, the East German swimmer who had turned her Munich silvers into Montreal golds. It was not to be. Just five months after the Olympics, van Damme was killed in a head-on collision, on the autoroute between Marseille and Lyon, on his way home from a training session in the south of France. His death, at the age of 22, ensured he would always be the great lost talent of modern athletics.

Ivo van Damme was born in Brussels on 21 February 1954, the son of a policeman. He turned to athletics late, aged 17. His first sport was football, which he hoped to play as a professional. A fractured arm and a family move to the small town of Veltem, in Flemish Brabant, changed all that. Van Damme joined his first running club, Daring club of Leuven, and athletics became his passion. At first he specialised in the 1,500m and 3,000m. His breakthrough came when he dropped back to 800m. The first time he ran the distance he clocked 2:07.20; a few months later he bettered that by five seconds. In his first major international competition, the 1973European Junior Championships in Duisburg, he finished fourth behind Steve Ovett. In 1974, his progress was checked through injury, but in 1975 he finished second in the European Indoor Championships in Berne, breaking Roger Moens's national record. With characteristic courtesy, van Damme waited for his compatriot to celebrate the 20th anniversary of his achievement, before replacing his name in the record books.

After winning the same competition in February 1976, van Damme was set for the 21st Olympiad. Favourite for the 800m was the American Richard Wohlhuter. He was a silver medallist at Munich and runner of the fastest time that year. The Cuban Alberto Juantorena, the red-hot favourite for the 400m, which he duly won, was considered something of an unknown quantity at the longer distance, despite having recorded the second-fastest time of 1976. In the final, Juantorena led for most of the way, winning in 1:43.50, a new world record, with van Damme staying on strongly in second, in 1:43.86, the third-fastest time ever. It was a tremendous performance against an opponent in the form of his life. More than a second and a half behind van Damme, in fifth, was a young Steve Ovett, destined to win 800m gold in Moscow.

In the 1,500m final, a week later, van Damme was up against the 'Flying Kiwi', John Walker, who a year earlier had become the first man to run a mile in under 3:50.00. With the first 400m run in a funereal 62.48 seconds and the 800m in 2:03.15, van Damme, the 800m specialist, must have felt his confidence growing. He was perfectly positioned when he became boxed in by the Australian Graham Crouch. By the time he had manoeuvred himself free, Walker had made his dash. Van Damme flew, but the effort cost him in the stretch and the New Zealander held on by a metre. Van Damme returned home a national hero, but he was not satisfied. He promised he would bring back two golds from Moscow.

It was an Olympics he was fated never to see.

How great could Ivo van Damme have been? The African nations' boycott deprived the 1976 800m final of the talented Kenyan Mike Boit. The 1,500m was similarly devalued by the absence of world-record holder Filbert Bayi of Tanzania and Walker's winning time was the slowest since 1956. Even so, had van Damme continued to improve – and there's no reason why he shouldn't have – one can assume that he would have been hitting the 1:42 mark for 800m by the 1978 outdoor European Championships, a time that would have won him the title. By 1980 (when he would still have been only 26 – Juantorena's age in Montreal), van Damme could have been established as the undisputed middle-distance champion of the world. The Coe-Ovett led renaissance of British athletics may well have had a very different ending.

Van Damme is commemorated in the name of the annual international meeting in Brussels, which has become the scene of several record-breaking performances. This is a fitting tribute to a man who appeared to have time on his side but who ran out of that most precious commodity far too soon.

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The Golden Age of Men's Tennis


....is not the 1960s, the 70s or the 80s.

It's now.

I thought that I'd seen all there was to see in football before this year's European Championships. And I thought I'd seen all there was to see in tennis too, until yesterday's extraordinary Wimbledon men's final. Titantic is not the word. Nearly five hours of superlative tennis, with both men showing extraordinary mental strength. But it wasn't just the quality of tennis which made yesterday's match so special. It was the great sportmanship of the two finalists.

Throughout the match there was no screaming at umpires or shouting of obscenities. There was no big-headed crowing from Nadal after he eventually prevailed; instead he redefined the meaning of the word 'magnaminous'. "He (Federer) is still the best player in history. Roger is always fighting. He's still the number one, still the best, still five times champion here- I've just won one". I don't know about you, but Nadal's speech was the most graceful winning speech I've ever heard in my life. Federer for his part, paid generous tribute to his conqueror, like the true gent he is.

How different Federer and Nadal are from the petulant, spoiled-brat tennis stars of the 1970s and 80s. The on-court, bad sport antics of the likes of Nastase, Connors, McEnroe and that scowling sourpuss Ivan Lendl might seem humorous now- but they weren't very funny at the time. The golden age of so many things might be in the 70s- but with Nadal and Federer at the helm, the golden age of men's tennis is most definitely today.

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Britain's Most Miserable- and Charmless- Sportsman


On Monday evening I was enthralled by that magnificent, white-knuckle fightback to a knee-buckling finish and a place in the Wimbledon quarter-finals. How I wanted him to win.
And when he triumphed, for a brief moment I thought I did love him – until he indulged in that ridiculous “Popeye” gesture, baring his bicep at the crowd, and I was reminded, again, of all the reasons I don’t. Murray is too aggressive, too surly, too focused, too hairy and utterly charmless.
writes Liz Hunt in today's Daily Telegraph.
I couldn't agree more. Here's my First Post piece from 2006 on Britain's most miserable- and charmless sportsman- and although Murray has clearly improved as a tennis player since then- his ridiculous "Popeye" gesture on Monday night showed he hasn't improved much as a human being.

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A Classic Sporting Saturday


The first Saturday in June means one thing: Derby Day. Those interested in the history of the great race, can read my Daily Telegraph interview with the remarkable Lettice Miller, the oldest living Derby winning owner, (she owned the 1937 winner Mid-day Gun,) here. As to what's going to win this year's renewal, well for what it's worth, I like the Sir Michael Stoute trained pair Tartan Bearer and Doctor Fremantle. Tartan Bearer won the Dante, the best Derby trial in recent years, while Doctor Fremantle, who has been supplemented for the race finished second to yesterday's Oaks winner Look Here as a juvenile. This year it looks a particularly wide open race and good luck with whatever you decide to back.

But it's not only at Epsom that there'll be high class sporting action today. Over in Paris, the lovely Ana Ivanovic (above)- a wonderful ambassador for Serbia- bids to win her first Grand Slam in the Final of the French Open.

And in Switzerland, the Euro 2008 Football championships kick off. Germany look the most likely winners of the tournament, but I'll also be having an each-way interest in Greece- again overpriced as they were in 2004- and Croatia, who I think will have
a big tournament.

Let the action commence!

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