by Tom Rubython
Lamb made the introductions and Hunt pitched his proposition to Hogan. Hunt’s keen grasp of things impressed Hogan straightaway. He was also impressed by the young man’s supreme confidence that he was going to be Formula One world champion in the not-too-distant future.
When Hogan’s demeanour revealed a small degree of scepticism towards Hunt’s bold claims, Hunt thrust an article from Autocar magazine in front of him. The article substantiated his prediction as well as the year in which it would be achieved.
Hogan remembers Hunt telling him: “I’ve got an article here from Autocar, and it says I’m going to be world champion in 1974.” Autocar magazine updated its predictions every year and was sometimes accurate and sometimes not. That year, as Hogan remembers, it also listed Mike Beuttler as a future world champion; it could not have been more wrong about that.
Hogan now says: “It’s the first thing I remember him saying to me: that he was going to be world champion in 1974. So he missed it by two years, but I’ve never been confronted with somebody who was so convincingly ultra-confident. I would get phone calls every week from somebody saying they were going to be world champion and ‘can’t you sponsor me?’ But this was the one and only time I actually believed what I was hearing.”
Hunt was feeling particularly pleased with himself that day. He had just been given a test drive by the new March Formula 3 team and it had gone very well. He had high hopes of being signed as a works driver by the new team. But first, he had to get some sponsorship together to help pay for the drive. Hogan remembers: “He knew Max Mosley and Alan Rees, and he was very keen on March.”
By modern standards, Hunt’s needs were very modest: just US$5,000 for a season’s motor racing. But even a thousand dollars was a lot of money in those days and it was a tough call for an unproven driver. But Hunt already had some sponsorship vaguely promised to him by a company called Rose Bearings, and he wanted Hogan to help seal the deal. Hunt said: “I need you to help me because I’ve got to go and see Rose Bearings.”
Hogan had received countless requests for help before, but something told him that this young man was different. Although he finally agreed to help put together a professional presentation, Hogan made it very clear that the proposition was much too small for Wasey’s and that he would handle it only in his spare time, purely as a favour. It was an unusual outcome for Hogan, but he sensed something in Hunt; although today he has no idea what it was.
Their first meeting lasted around half an hour and, throughout, Annabel Lamb said nothing. In truth, Lamb had little idea about driver management but was a latent petrolhead and liked hanging around with Hunt. At the end, she was absolutely delighted with the outcome and couldn’t quite believe that a man with Hogan’s reputation in the agency world was prepared to help her driver.
The next day, Hogan wrote Hunt a note, which read: “I have been thinking about what you were saying and I think it’s all achievable. So, if you want to do it, you’ve gotta do this, this and this.” He adds: “I can’t remember what ‘this, this and this’ was, though.”
After Hogan had put together the presentation, Hunt asked him to go and see the sponsor alone. Making some excuse, Hunt asked: “Can you go and see him?”
Hunt had worked out that a presentation by a professional adverting executive would make a far greater impression than one by a wet-behind-the-ears young driver. Hunt had surmised that his cause would be enhanced by him not being there. It was a very intelligent assessment and Hogan was impressed by his sound judgement. Finding Hunt to be very determined and dedicated to the event at hand, Hogan remembers being delighted by his attitude.
Hogan recalls: “So I went to see Rose Bearings on his behalf, and the guy I saw – I’ve no idea what his name was – all I remember is that he was a miserable son of a bitch. I tried to explain the sponsorship to him but he didn’t want to know.” The chairman of Rose even turned the tables and told Hogan: “I think young people like you should be giving me money to run the car. I shouldn’t be paying you; it should be a privilege to be putting our name on it.”
Ironically, Hogan could see the chairman’s point, as he says: “I must say I learned something from that miserable man – a lesson which I’ve used time and time again. The funny thing was that, many years later, when Audi was looking for sponsorship for its rally team, I told them they should be paying us. And they nearly did because they wanted a big name on the car. So you always learn something.”
Eventually, Hunt did get some money from Rose Bearings thanks to the chairman’s young assistant, who had also been at the meeting and who could see the merits of the proposal – and who wasn’t as miserable as his boss.
It was less than US$1,000 but it was a crucial US$1,000 because, on that basis, Wallis Hunt gave his son another US$1,000, and it was enough to get the season underway.
Then, Hunt had one of his periodic pieces of luck. Coca-Cola was a client of Wasey’s, and the drinks company decided to allocate a small amount of money from its budget for motor racing sponsorship. In those days, Coca-Cola was not a big brand in Britain and was just beginning to establish itself outside of America. Generally, colas weren’t popular in England, in a market then dominated by lemonade. Coca-Cola found motor racing to be an ideal way to organise sample tastings and to introduce their product to young people.
With not enough money to partner with Formula One or even Formula Two, Hogan was told to spend it in Formula 3. Hogan remembers it clearly: “Absolutely out of the blue, they said to me one day: ‘Why don’t we sponsor something in motor racing?’ So we sponsored James Hunt and also Gerry Birrell’s Formula 3 car.”
As Hogan remembers, the deal with Coca-Cola was worth around US$1,000. He says: “A thousand dollars was a fortune in those days, so, between his father and Rose, he sort of scratched through the Formula 3 season.”
It may have been messy, but it was the start of a relationship of mutual trust and affection that would stretch over two decades. Enduring many trials and tribulations, it would also ultimately lead to great success and firmly establish the reputations of both men.
Hogan says: “I was doing it as more of a favour. You can’t imagine what it was like; these were the primitive days of sponsorship.” But deep down, Hogan was enormously impressed with Hunt’s confidence: “He was totally self-confident. I have never seen anybody quite like him in my life. Let’s put it this way, I reckon I knew a lot about motor racing; you have a feel for it. You immediately knew, even in those days, how hard it was to make progress, and James had absolutely no doubt whatsoever that he was going to make the big time.” He adds: “James had that public school veneer, that confidence that you could only imagine during the war of spitfire flyers. He could never see a problem, and always said: ‘Why shouldn’t I be able to do that?’”
Hogan and Hunt also became close personal friends. Hunt introduced him to a motor racing haunt in West London called 365, as it was situated at number 365 on the King’s Road. At the bar and in the restaurant, the two men would frequently share a shepherd’s pie, the menu speciality which sold for 10s/6d (55 pence) per portion. In that bar, Hunt introduced Hogan to other motor racing characters, such as fellow Australian Tim Schenken. Schenken subsequently introduced Hogan to Ron Dennis, who, at that time, was running a Formula Two team called Rondel Racing with his partner Neil Trundle. It was to be a fateful meeting, as Dennis handed Hogan his first big motor racing assignment when he appointed Wasey’s to find sponsorship for the team.
The introduction eventually led to much bigger things, especially when Philip Morris’ Marlboro brand moved into Formula One in a big way in 1973 and hired Hogan to manage it day-to-day.
Hogan never secured any more sponsorship for Hunt after that initial foray. The driver couldn’t afford to retain Wasey’s and it was difficult for Hogan to do it freelance without creating a conflict and risking his job. As Hogan explains: “I suddenly realised how difficult it was. It was very good education because, whilst I was working fo
r an advertising agency at the time, I could see all the reasons why you shouldn’t do it, you know, on a daily basis.”
The two men met frequently as friends for the next five years until destiny brought them together again professionally in the most decisive way.
CHAPTER 10
The Formula 3 Years 1969 to 1971
Four dispiriting years of slog begin
James Hunt was impressive enough in Formula Ford for his team, Motor Racing Enterprises (MRE), to want to move him up to Formula 3 midway through 1969. Mike Ticehurst and Gerard McCaffery’s belief in him simply grew stronger and stronger, and Hunt also became convinced he was going all the way. McCaffery was prepared to fund the drive as long as he could afford it. Ticehurst’s faith in Hunt was incredibly important to the young driver in the early days; Ticehurst used to tell anyone who would listen that Hunt was an up and coming man. Howden Ganley, who drove in F3 at the time, remembers becoming very fed up with hearing it. MRE was running Ganley’s car, and Hunt was all Ticehurst wanted to talk about. Ganley says: “I remember him saying: ‘This young guy’s going to be really good.’ Tim [Schenken] and I were already in Formula 3 but we knew Mike and we lived locally, so we used to stop by and chat to him. When he was telling us all about this guy James Hunt, we were like: ‘Yeah, yeah’, because, at that stage, you don’t want to hear about anybody else, do you?” Ganley adds: “But Mike was a total believer.”
Ticehurst, who died ten years ago, was genuinely a very pleasant individual, much liked in his racing days. Today, he is not even a footnote in the James Hunt story, and, for some reason, Hunt biographers Gerald Donaldson and Christopher Hilton fail to give him any mention in their books. Hunt – as he did with Tom Wheatcroft – subsequently wrote Ticehurst out of his story and his contribution to his career. But, without Ticehurst, Hunt may never have left Formula Ford.
As it was, after barely one and a half years in Formula Ford, Hunt made the move to the senior formula. As he lined up on the grid for his first Formula 3 race at Mallory Park, on 11th August 1969, he silently toasted his good fortune. He had arrived at the big time.
In truth, Hunt had never felt right in a Formula Ford car and he was glad to leave the junior formula behind. He was much more comfortable in the larger formulae and found Formula 3 to fit him like a glove. Sitting on the grid, he couldn’t wait for the starter’s flag to fall that sunny August Sunday.
Hunt found the difference between a Formula 3 car and a Formula Ford car to be like night and day. Whilst Formula Ford cars ran on narrow tyres that looked like road car tyres and had more or less standard road car engines, F3 cars had proper slick race tyres and specially tuned racing engines – albeit, in those days, restricted to one-litre capacity to stop the cars from going too fast.
But what he found somewhat disconcerting was the high standard of the opposition.
Formula 3 that year was riddled with stars of the future, drivers that would one day end up in Formula One. They were scattered everywhere amongst the grids in 1969. His competitors included Ronnie Peterson, Tim Schenken, Howden Ganley, Jody Scheckter and Niki Lauda. In fact, 12 drivers competing that year in Formula 3 would eventually sit in a Formula One car.
But luckily, Hunt had plenty of support. Hunt had caught the eye of Barrie Gill and Andrew Marriott, founders of the CSS sponsorship agency. Then in its infancy as a news agency, CSS would grow over the next five to ten years to become the biggest sports sponsorship agency in Britain. The three men became friends, as Andrew Marriott recalls: “I can’t remember exactly the first time we met him but he was obviously a likely lad, and I knew the people that were running him. We thought he was great and he just looked the business. He was an exciting driver; even then, he had a lot about him, a lot of charisma. You could just see it.” It was a valuable introduction as, a few years later, CSS would play a significant role in Hunt’s life.
Formula 3 was so popular in those days that it was not unusual to have 75 or more drivers entered for a single race. Hunt said: “Formula 3 was the right way to go at that time. For an up-and-coming driver, it was the only serious route into Formula One.”
He may have achieved his ambition but his car was a second-hand Brabham BT21 that was well over two years old. His engine was tired and desperately needed a rebuild. The quality and quantity of the field in Formula 3 would make it a tough challenge, and the odds were stacked against him performing well enough to be noticed.
Despite that, Hunt did what he did best and was immediately a front runner and contender for F3 podiums. He wrestled the Brabham round to finish seventh in his first race at Mallory Park. Ticehurst was delighted with his debut and promptly entered him for two Formula Libre races where he won both times out, picking up just enough prize money to pay the bills.
The following weekend, he was at Brands Hatch, where, once again, he easily qualified for the main race and scored his first podium finish, placing third. The next weekend, he was fourth at Brands Hatch again.
That August and September of 1969 were two of the finest and happiest months of Hunt’s career, as he raced every weekend. He didn’t win anything in F3 but it was clear to everyone that, in an up-to-date car, he would easily have been winning races.
On 28th September 1969, he went to Cadwell Park in Lincolnshire. Set in the Lincolnshire Wolds, racing was restricted because of noise. Nevertheless, it was a popular venue and known as a driver’s circuit, with varying fast and slow characteristics.
The Cadwell F3 race was significant in 1969 because it was the worldwide race debut of the new March Engineering company. The launch of March had taken the racing world by storm and the eyes of the motor racing world were on Cadwell Park that weekend.
Ronnie Peterson was debuting March’s new F3 car, dubbed the March 693. March cars were named after the year and the formula in which they appeared, and it was the only 69 car produced by the new company. The whole of the March team was there to see its debut, including owners Max Mosley, Alan Rees and Robin Herd. Their presence proffered an opportunity for Hunt to shine in front of some very important people, and shine he did. The March company would subsequently become a very important part of the James Hunt story and it was all the result of what happened on that autumn day in Lincolnshire.
Incredibly, Hunt qualified his two-year-old Brabham car on the front row of the grid for his qualifying heat. He qualified easily, despite a minor accident. When all the times were added up, he was on the front row of the grid for the main race.
By the end of the first lap, Hunt was in third place and battling with Ronnie Peterson, who was driving the brand new March 693 in its first race.
At the head of the field, Tim Schenken raced with Howden Ganley and they passed the chequered flag to finish in that order. But Hunt and Peterson jostled for third place from the very start of the race, swapping places in virtually every lap. In the end, they tied for third place, crossing the finish line with identical times. The stewards, however, judging by eye, said Peterson’s longer nose cone was fractionally first to the line. So, officially, Hunt placed fourth.
Nevertheless, the race had been so close that Hunt’s new lap record was shared by only two other drivers. Suddenly, everyone was talking about the young Briton. The weeklies Autosport and Motoring News gushed about him that week.
Hunt had made an immediate impact, and Max Mosley was so impressed that he telephoned Hunt a few weeks later with an offer to drive for March at Brands Hatch on 19th October. In between Cadwell and Brands Hatch, Peterson had crashed the new March and it had turned over and caught fire. He had been rescued from the car, but the injuries he had sustained meant he would be out of racing for a month.
Mosley remembers it well as his first serious encounter with James Hunt. It was also when he first christened him ‘Hunt the Shunt’, as he says: “When we wanted to replace Ronnie, there were two obvious replacements: one was James and the other was someone called Ian Ashley. And when the press asked: ‘Who are you going to put in?’ I said: �
�It’s a choice between Crashley (Ashley) and Shunt (Hunt).’ And that’s actually where that came from, they called him ‘Hunt the Shunt’, which was just quite right.”
But it didn’t work out. Hunt was totally overawed at Brands Hatch and could not get in the groove. In truth, Peterson had driven the skin off the new March 693 at Cadwell Park and made it look a lot better than it was. At that time, Hunt was no Ronnie Peterson. And it showed.
In truth, the new March 693 was a dog, and Hunt hankered to get back in his Brabham. At Brands in the March, he could only manage tenth place – far worse than he would have performed in his Brabham, which he knew was a better car.
Hunt received some bad press and went from hero to zero, whilst March was saved some embarrassment about how bad its new car was. Everyone blamed the driver.
Predictably, nothing came from the drive and Hunt finished off the season in his MRE-entered Brabham BT21. At the end of 1969, Hunt placed 15th in the Lombank British Formula 3 Championship with eight points. In truth, it wasn’t much to write home about. But, overall, he had made a notable impact in Formula 3 by doing it all in an old car and only competing in half of the season. For now, it was good enough.
All in all, he had competed in 12 races in Formula 3 and scored two first places, one second and two third places. It was a very capable performance and, despite the March fiasco at Brands Hatch, it had got him noticed as a coming man.
So much so that, at the end of the season, he scooped up a Grovewood Award. The Grovewoods were motor racing’s Oscars, and the significance of winning one should not be underestimated in Hunt’s career. The Awards were sponsored by a conglomerate called Grovewood Securities Ltd, quoted on the London Stock Exchange and run by John Danny.
Grovewood Securities had been founded in 1914 and was initially called The Lady Workers’ Homes Ltd, with the object of building houses for the exclusive occupation of working women, until it was bought by Danny in 1958 with backing from the Eagle Star insurance company.
