A brief history of me: ages 0 to 21

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My life, pt 1: It all started with Bo and Luke.

When I was a kid, I used to love the crazy jumps they did on the Dukes of Hazzard. I wanted to be a stuntman when I grew up. I would gather my Blue Peter annuals and such like on the landing and make ramps for my Lego cars to bound over. I lusted after a TR7 on my best friend’s street.

That was pretty much the limit of my automotive interests, though. Motorsport, for example, was barely on the radar. Sure, I’d always got excited at the sound of The Chain and loved watching Tony Pond rallying on TV, but it was far from a religion and no-one else in the family shared my passing interest.

By the age of 14, I still wasn’t much into motorsport, but I still loved cars. I was quite the artist and would draw them at every opportunity. I even had a monochrome rendition of a Ford Capri Laser exhibited at county level. It was ace and I truly regret throwing it out a few years back. Sadly, by the age of 15, my artist skills vanished and I scraped a grade C in GCSE art. Hey ho.

It was around this time that I passed up what I now recognise as having been a great opportunity. My high school had a karting club. A karting club, dammit! It’s just a pity I had so little self-belief that it never even crossed my mind to join. Even now, I’m not the most confident person, but if there’s one place I am confident, it’s behind the wheel. Live and learn, I guess.

Eventually, my 17th birthday arrived and I had to face up to the reality of driving; an activity I’d never considered myself worthy of. Despite some traumatic learning with my Dad, I passed my test first time. It wouldn’t be for quite a while that I’d really start driving, though. For the time being, I restricted my boy-racer antics to the computer. F1GP was a solid favourite and even saw a bit of network play at University. Although I didn’t realise it at the time, it taught me quite a bit about racing lines.

And that’s the thread we’ll pick in the next thrilling installment...

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