KEN TYRRELL:
PORTRAIT OF A
MOTOR RACING GIANT

By Christopher Hilton.
Published by Haynes.

If you've dropped by to read this column much over the past few years, you'll know by now that I tend to struggle to get excited about a lot of Christopher Hilton's work. Consequently, I didn't sit down to read Hilton's newest offering with particularly high expectations, however pleased I may have been to see that someone has finally taken the time to write Ken Tyrrell's biography. This time, Hilton got the better of me. I enjoyed this book a lot.

There is something intrinsic in the nature of sport, and perhaps motorsport in particular, that makes it a fertile breeding ground for unbelievably intelligent, colourful, and gifted individuals, and few Formula One identities could demonstrate these qualities (and many others) in as large doses as did Tyrrell. The no-nonsense English team-owner steered his eponymous outfit through nearly four decades of racing, and weathered the full spectrum of experiences that only F1 can create.

There were the highs, of which Tyrrell's special relationship with Jackie Stewart is an obvious standout. The two of them formed a team boss/driver pairing of a kind rarely seen in Grand prix racing over the years – Chapman/Clark, Dennis/Hakkinen, perhaps Todt/Schumacher, maybe one or two others. In Tyrell's case, the reward was three World Championships at the hands of Sir Jackie, and if that's not worth writing a book about then I don't know what is.

But that's really just the tip of the iceberg. There was Project 34 – the infamous six-wheeler that almost turned Grand Prix racing on its head. Then there were the more difficult moments – the deaths of Francois Cevert and Stefan Bellof, and the eventual sale of the team that led to the birth of BAR. Throw Tyrrell himself into the mix, and suddenly you're struggling to think of reasons not to read it.

This book, a cousin of Karl Ludvigsen's Haynes driver biography series, sees Hilton draw heavily upon his own conversations with Tyrrell through the years, as well as the words of those who were on the scene during various critical moments of the team's existence.

The result is a fascinating glimpse of a man with the 'old guard' spirit of a true racer, a breed that has been hunted almost to extinction among the rows of palatial motorhomes in a Grand Prix paddock. (Although surviving examples can still be found in the form of Frank Williams and Patrick Head).

I'm of the wrong generation to have seen the Tyrrell team at the height of its power, and while I was aware of their various achievements, it took this book to draw an assortment of random facts and statistics and weave them into a single, flowing tale.

The real strength, however, lies in the accounts of those who were on the spot. To hear from such folk is invariably interesting, but what really struck me in this particular book was just how passionate just about everyone seemed to be about both the team and Tyrrell himself.

It's normal for people to sound publicly enthusiastic about their team, particularly if things are going well, but this seemed somehow different. One particular quote, referring to a period when the team had entered what would prove to be a terminal decline, illustrates this quite nicely:

"Chris Leslie joined that year (1995) in purchasing, which 'means anything and everything that needs to be bought. We were buying toilet rolls one minute and carbon fibre the next and gearbox parts the minute after that.' He stresses that the team never felt they were going nowhere, 'never felt like that at all. All everyone thought was: "What we need is money and/or an engine. Maybe with the engine we can get the money or with the money we can get the engine."

'We were all totally convinced that we had the people to do it. Everyone was behind Ken and we were privileged to be working there as opposed to the other teams, because they were becoming big business. We almost judged that that wasn't racing anymore. Yes, it was going to be a struggle but we did feel all we needed was the engine. The morale at the team was fantastic.'" (p. 121)

The book is very well laid out and features some fabulous photographs that are further flattered by the use of matt paper. More than any other of Hilton's book that I have read, this one seems to really have come from the heart and Hilton has risen to the occasion. It's a pleasing account of a man whose story most certainly deserves to be told – and from an author that I wasn't expecting to enjoy. Sometimes, it's nice to be proven wrong.