Nigel Mansell Autobiography

by Nigel Mansell

  In case you think that you might feel sorry for this ex-Formula 1 driver, don’t panic! My competitive spirit is as strong as ever. Since retiring from motorsport I have just channelled that will to win into the game of golf. I started playing golf during my racing career and it was always a brilliant escape, such a tranquil and yet competitive way to relax. Once I started to improve, it wasn’t long before I became completely fascinated with the game, the techniques, the tournaments. I’m pretty much obsessed.

  Golf has also given me many wonderful friendships and I’ve been privileged to play alongside some of the greatest names in the game. I took part in a few pro-celebrity tournaments, which were invariably great fun. One of the greatest honours was to play with the legendary Seve Ballesteros. It was fascinating and wonderful to be around him on the course. He used to carry photos of all his major wins around with him, and whichever hotel he was staying at would therefore have pictures of all these amazing triumphs, so the whole ambience of success travelled with him. Very clever. He was a fabulous person, a wonderful human being, incredibly softly spoken, charismatic and one of the greatest talents the world of golf has ever seen. A beautiful man.

  To play with these people and learn from them has been a joy. Of course, developing Woodbury was also a great experience and, as I’ve said, some of the professionals I’ve just mentioned helped me improve that course.

  I’ve had some incredibly fun times on the golf course, too. In the mid-1980s, I was in South Africa for a race and I spent some time with Mark McNulty and Tony Johnstone, both great golfers and friends of ours. One of their friends had a private jet so they said, ‘How about we fly down to the Kruger Park, play some golf down there, have a barbecue, maybe see some of the animals and then come back?’ That sounded fantastic so off we went. Things seemed to be so much easier to do in the 1980s!

  We each had the tallest caddies I’ve ever seen, they must have been about seven foot tall! Anyway, we played a few holes and the heat was incredible, it was over 40 degrees. Then we came to a beautiful water-hole par 3, which I could see had some hippos in a nearby river, which was not fenced off.

  We were having a good laugh so I said, ‘Let’s have a picture together.’ I was standing in the middle of Mark and Tony when we all heard some strange grunting noises from behind, then the next thing I know my two friends were shouting, ‘Run! Run! Run!’ I thought they were pulling my leg until I saw them and the caddies running off down the fairway. I looked behind to find a number of massive, angry hippos charging us (they’d been startled by the camera’s flash). Ignorance is bliss and, to be fair, I’ve never had a problem with hippos on a golf course before. It was a good job I was fit because I ran like the wind!

  Happily, we managed to get away safely and were able to have a good laugh about it, but in fact it was pretty dangerous. Anyway, we carried on playing in this searing heat and my left foot, which I’d injured in karting years before, started to swell up and became very uncomfortable in my shoe. Mark asked me what size I was and it turned out we were all within half a size of each other. So I put his left shoe on, but then Tony asked if his shoe might help. We ended up swapping shoes and, to cut a long story short, walked off down the fairway each with an odd pair of shoes on. We looked so strange.

  A few holes later, we played by what I thought was a lake. My ball landed about 30 feet away from the water’s edge so, as I was hot and my feet hurt, I decided to dip my toes in the water to cool them down. I’d done this for only a few seconds when my huge caddy rugby tackled me and pulled me away from the water’s edge, just as a crocodile lunged out to try to grab me. What was I thinking? I had no idea of the danger I was in. After that I just thought, What on earth is going to happen next!

  A few holes later, Mark was on the tee and we were standing nearby when the sprinklers went off, completely soaking all three of us. By now we were just laughing so much, it was just the most funny and bizarre round of golf you could ever wish to play.

  We ended up getting a little late after all our adventures, so Mark was driving really fast to get out of the park before it was closed for the night and we’d be locked in. What do you know, we then got pulled over by the park police. You couldn’t make this up! This huge policeman was really laying into Mark for speeding, telling him off and starting to write out a ticket.

  Mark said, ‘Oh, come on, give us a break please,’ but this guy wasn’t interested. Then Mark said, ‘Do you know who this guy is?’ and pointed to Tony.

  ‘I’m not interested in who he is,’ the policeman snapped back.

  ‘That’s Tony Johnstone, professional golfer, and I’m Mark McNulty . . .’

  ‘Not interested.’

  Mark tried again. ‘Okay, well, we’ve also got our friend who is a Formula 1 racing driver, he’s won all sorts of races . . .’

  The policeman immediately looked up.

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Nigel Mansell.’

  This guy’s whole demeanour changed instantly, much to the astonishment and delight of Mark and Tony. This massive policeman, a Dutch Afrikaner, just melted and became the friendliest guy you could wish to meet. It turned out he was a huge F1 fan and he was so chuffed to chat to me and ask a few questions. He ended up just giving us a verbal warning, so that was yet another lucky escape.

  That day was one of the most extraordinary times of my life. I tell you what, we laughed and had so much fun. Great guys, great friends and thank you for all the fabulous memories.

  I don’t just play golf to get some fresh air, however. I like to win. I love to compete. Of the thousands of rounds of golf I’ve played over the years, I am extremely proud of a few achievements in particular. The first was when I managed to play in the Australian Open alongside my good friend Greg Norman in 1988 at the Royal Sydney Club. At the time, my handicap was 1.9 and I was given a wildcard entry by the Australian Golf Union. Some people criticised that and virtually everyone suggested it could be a very embarrassing day on the greens for me, given that I was playing in one of the world’s top professional tournaments. Most suggested I would be lucky to break 90.

  They’d obviously never met me. I admit to taking a double brandy the night before and, of course, I was nervous on the first tee. My first tee shot wasn’t great but I controlled my nerves and started to improve, saving par on that opening hole. When I birdied the fourth, my name climbed up on to the leaderboard. I was so proud! A challenging front nine saw me take 39, which was a great score. I worked really hard for the rest of the round and, at the eighteenth, I managed a fantastic approach shot to the green that finished inches from the hole, giving me a birdie and a final score of 77, only five over par. Ian Woosnam, who was top 50 that year and soon to be world number 1, shot a 75.

  On the second day my old racing injuries bit back and my left arm in particular was extremely painful and inflexible. Worse still, on the seventh I choked. I swung but I was so tense that I duck-hooked it straight into a bush. I made a double bogey but after that I calmed down and ended up playing okay. That was the biggest choke I have ever suffered, including all my time in motorsport. It was because I felt naked; I didn’t have a helmet on, I wasn’t in my overalls and I wasn’t hiding in a car going past everyone at 200mph. I was incredibly visible, exposed. So it is the first time I felt what a professional golfer really experiences when they choke. My second round came in at 86 but that first score of 77 was something I was hugely proud of. What was that they said about not breaking 90? Hopefully this vindicated my sponsors’ exemption, but either way it is one of the most fantastic memories I have in the game of golf.

  I also played in other pro tournaments, such as the Balearic Open and the South Australian Open, and I’ve played at the qualifying for the Senior PGA Tour. However, the second highlight of my golf career was in 2004 at Harlech in north Wales. On my third round, among 80 other golfers and professionals, I shot a 66, the third lowest score of the day, putting me in the top half of the field. I was also super-pr
oud of the support of my caddy Leo, and also that of Greg.

  Another golfing achievement is the World Senior Championships I won in Albuquerque in 2014. A further highlight of my golfing career came just as I was writing this book when I won the Strokeplay Open at Belleair Country Club, again in 2014. I’ve also recently bagged two aces, as well as an albatross on a par five. And how can I ever forget winning that tournament with my beautiful grandson? Wow. I am also hugely proud to be a member of Royal & Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews, the best golfing organisation in the world, custodians of the game and a wonderful body of men.

  It’s not all glorious wins on a golf course, obviously. I haven’t escaped the two most dreadful diseases in golf. The first is the flippin’ shanks, where you shank a ball from nowhere and hit it sideways when you are playing quite well; the other one is the yips on the putter. I have, very sadly, in competition had a seven on one green where I got close to the pin and then yipped it round the hole for three or four putts. The people playing with me thought I was taking the mickey, but I’d lost my head. These totally involuntary twitches come from the brain to the elbow to the wrist, and every time you go to stroke the ball into the hole, just as you are about to hit it, your wrist twitches and opens or closes the face of the putter and you miss the hole from six inches. It is the most involuntary sabotage.

  Golf for me has saved my life. Through my whole career, it has been a grounding influence, and my set of clubs has travelled with me all over the globe. I have had so much pleasure playing some of the greatest courses in the world with some of the game’s great names. It’s a complete contrast to a racetrack, which is full of noise, full of hustle and bustle and cameras – when you are playing a private game of golf, it is very tranquil, you are at one with Mother Nature. But the strong competitive element is very exciting; it keeps me sharp.

  I’m actually more fired up to play golf than ever. I’ve had little snippets of the skill level I used to have years ago and I want more of it. The only trouble is I am older and more fragile now, so naturally I haven’t got the same physical attributes, but mentally I am there, the appetite has come back. Golf challenges me, gives me great laughs, introduces me to some wonderful people and tests me with more than a few moments of panic and frustration, of course, but that is all part of the game. Golf fascinates me. For example, during a round of 18 holes, you are only actually ‘playing’ – as in swinging the club – for around seven minutes. Yet the round might take you three or four hours. That is an astonishing statistic.

  I am lucky to live very near to two fabulous golf clubs. Belleair Country Club in Clearwater is a home from home. It has two championship courses, the people are really nice and friendly and supportive, and we have a wonderful time there. I enjoy my time playing at La Moye Golf Club when I am back home in Jersey.

  Golf is also now my main way of staying fit. It keeps you young in so many ways. The stress on my wrists isn’t ideal but the competitive atmosphere, the flexibility you need, the long walks – it’s fantastic. I need to wear strong strapping on my left wrist to play a round but that’s okay. I don’t let any worries about getting older plague me for too long. I live life to the full if I can; I find humour in as much as possible and I am blessed that, although I might ache and creak a bit, I am still here.

  Besides, getting older has its advantages. I enjoy being wiser, more mature, more mellow. Certain things in life don’t bother me like they used to. Certain decisions come easily because I have seen what to do in the past and learned from my mistakes. It is an unavoidable part of life that we all make mistakes. That is understandable and forgiveable. What is not okay is repeating those mistakes. Age gives you wisdom, the knowledge gleaned from yours and other people’s mistakes, and I find that wiser knowledge invigorating.

  Let me finish up with another anecdote that starts on the golf course. I was playing with some guys and the age question came up again. When I told them I was in my early sixties, they were genuinely surprised. They said, ‘No way, you look about early fifties!’ They were really shocked and I was, of course, extremely flattered. Made my day, that did. So with this recently in my mind, I had to go to the specialist to get some X-rays to check over the various bits and pieces of my body that have been mashed up over the years. Sometimes they see X-rays and go, ‘Oh my word, your neck is broken!’ and I have to reassure them, ‘Oh, that’s just an old injury.’ Anyway, this one particular time they did the tests and the specialist pulled up the X-rays on screen. And then he said, ‘How old did you say you were again?’

  I puffed out my chest, anticipating that the recent compliment on the golf course was about to be repeated.

  Crikey, it’s happening again. I must be looking good for my age.

  ‘Thank you for asking, doctor. You may be surprised to know I am 62, as it happens . . .’

  ‘Blimey, yes I am. Looking at these X-rays, the wear and tear in your joints looks like you are about 162!’

  AFTERWORD

  I’ve had the most wonderful time sharing these stories with you. When I sat down and started work on this book, I really had to think long and hard about how much of myself to put into these pages. I wanted people to feel as if they had spoken with me about my life, chatted about the racing but also got to know the real me away from the track. It’s been a very emotional experience which has brought back many fabulous memories, a few unpleasant ones, admittedly, but mostly I have been completely overwhelmed by the process of revisiting these special moments in time.

  During the course of writing this book, I have occasionally popped over to the Mansell museum before opening time, just to have a wander round and look at all the fabulous memories captured in that room. As each chapter has evolved, I’ve found those memories coming back to life. Just yesterday I stood next to the Williams FW14 that took me to the world title, and I have to say, to this day, it still looks like an absolutely fabulous car to drive. I can almost smell the pit lane and hear those wonderful engines roaring past when I stand next to my old car. Sometimes, I can hear the buzz of the garage or the chaotic noises from across the pit lanes. Maybe an old rival will flash across my mind, or perhaps I will suddenly find myself in the middle of a certain overtaking manoeuvre at 180mph in some far-flung country. At times, I almost check my fingernails for oil. I was lucky enough to have had a very exhilarating career flying around the world and racing very fast cars, but I can see now that I was often too busy rushing around with my hair on fire to enjoy the journey. Standing in the museum, I can now finally pause for breath and soak it all in.

  I am extremely proud of my career in motorsport, proud of winning two world titles back-to-back and of all the amazing races and triumphs that I was able to secure. Wonderful. I’ve also noticed how, with the passage of time, the moments that stand out are not the intrigue, the politics and the complexities of the sport, but the people, the races, the cars, the fans.

  I know that F1 has changed beyond measure to become what it is today and I am proud to say that it is still the greatest motorsport in the world. I remain an absolutely avid fan. As for my part in that history – well, I believe records are just set as a benchmark, and I was fortunate enough to post some good examples of those. Although, as time ticks by, I am dropping down the order, I am still there in the history books in a number of ways. Even when all my records are finally overtaken, hopefully people will still remember me winning two consecutive World Championships, my five wins on British soil, the outrageous overtaking manoeuvres, my passion for the sport and my will to win. I also hope that my life outside of racing – which has been just wonderful – has been similarly fascinating to you.

  I know I am one of the luckiest people to be alive, not just because of the accidents but also because of my more recent health problems. I have been close to death a number of times, on and off the track. I have sustained terrible injuries and been hit by extremely challenging illnesses, but I’ve always come back from them, I’ve always – eventually – walked away
, at least from hospital; many of my fellow drivers, and also friends outside of motorsport, have not been so fortunate.

  People often chat to me and ask me what was my biggest success. That one is easy: still being alive and surviving the journey. I have been very lucky in that there are not many people around who have broken their back more than once, broken their neck, both wrists, feet and various other bones, so I count my blessings to have had the career I’ve had and enjoyed the success I’ve had and still be here today. I feel very lucky that I have survived. For large parts of my career, I didn’t honestly believe I would see my 60th birthday. I just didn’t think I’d live that long, so I am really thrilled to have achieved that milestone.

  Rosanne and I have each had our challenges, as you now know, both professionally and personally. We’ve had to bounce back many times, but that is what we are like as a couple and as a family. I am proud of the way that we have done that (even if at times it felt like we were on some kind of emotional rollercoaster). We are like any other family in that respect. Whatever challenges life throws in your way, you have to just keep going. You have to bounce back, whether that is from the loss of a loved one, not winning a World Championship, being seriously injured in an accident, a friend letting you down . . . all these challenges come our way and it is vitally important that you bounce back. You can do it. Bounce back.

  Sometimes, I look at all the memorabilia in the museum – the trophies, the posters, the racing suits, helmets and cars – and I have to pinch myself. Some of those events were a long time ago and recounting them for this book has brought them vividly back to the front of my mind. Sometimes I stand in that room, looking around at all that history, and think, Wow, did that really happen?