Life and death of a racing driver

A new Formula One season is nearly upon and as debate rages about the Bahrain Grand Prix (or the lack there of) and we are bombarded with sponsors’ adverts featuring Hamilton and Button it would be easy to forget it wasn’t always like this.

Motor racing wasn’t always this glossy, it wasn’t always this affluent and it wasn’t always this safe.

And whilst race fans may relish seeing two British drivers with very realistic title ambitious they should remember the efforts of a champion who did not have the helping hand that pampered drivers are given today.

Graham Hill was the epitome of a racing champion. He came from nothing, lived fast and died young.

But the playboy tag that is so often banded about when it comes to drivers of yester year would do a disservice to Hill’s passion and dedication to the sport.

He was born in to humble surroundings in London and rose from freelance mechanic to World Champion.

Hill’s passion had been ignited by a track day at Brands Hatch, paying five shillings for each lap of the track. He was hooked after his fourth lap.

“I’d never been to a motor race or seen a motor race until I was in the first one I was in!” Hill later exclaimed about his first race in the 1958 Monaco Grand Prix.

His party lifestyle off the track was a distance cry from his meticulous approach on it. “He was such a lot of fun yet frightening when he was serious,” explained his friend, and rival, Jackie Stewart.

Hill was a race fans dream but an engineer’s nightmare. He kept records of every car he drove and was constantly pushing for more.

The intensity brought success, and the success brought with it a more extravagant lifestyle.

The champion’s parties were legendary amongst the F1 fraternity but unlike so many others, enjoying the trappings of fame and fortune did not affect his burning desire to race, or win.

Still the only driver to have won the Indy 500, Le Mans and the Monaco Grand Prix he has to be one of the greatest drivers of all time.

Ironically the winnings from the Indy 500 bought the plane that Hill would later crash and tragically die in 1975.

But watching the BBC’s Graham Hill documentary Driven doesn’t just document an F1 legend but also the evolution of the sport and how the fear and stark reality of death shaped the glitzy world of racing today.

Driven’s fascinating depiction of a time when F1 was dealing with over a death a season makes Hill’s achievements all the more impressive and reminds as all that racing isn’t all about the glamour, money and celebrity.

Caged fighters are tamed

Excruciating cries of pain coming from colossus figures as they manipulate each other’s limbs to breaking point instantly make me regret my decision.

The world of mixed martial arts comes with certain brutish connotations that the Rough n’ Ready gym in Northampton is doing nothing to dispel as I nervously enter for my first, and probably last, MMA training session

Rough by name, and rough by nature, the large steel security door and rickety stairs up to the gym do nothing to settle my nerves. The walls, adorned with pictures and newspaper clippings of previous fight events leave me in no doubt that this is the real deal, I’m about to train with proper fighters.

I’m there to meet semi-professional fighter Jorden Curran. He is keen that I see beyond the blood and gore that some so-called fans revel in, to see the real sport behind the muscles and violence.

“It was scary the first time I stepped through the door because this place was full of huge guys beating each other up.” He jokes.

“I was worried that I would be looked down upon because I was smaller than the rest but everybody was really friendly and welcoming.”

Jorden is a muscular six-footer. To say he is the smallest tells me all I need to know about my training partners for the next two hours.

Mixed Martial Arts encompasses different fighting styles and disciplines from across the world. Its popularity is growing fast. Fights can take place in a ring or a cage, depending on where you are in the world.

The Ultimate Fighting Championship, with their caged octagon ring and superhuman fighters, has bought the sport to the masses. They have transposed the underground cage fighting world and now their fighters have become stars, touring different continents to showcase sell-out events. There is even a video game franchise.

The popularity of the sport continues to rise in the UK. British fighters, such as Michael Bisping, are prominent fighters in the UFC and gyms, like Rough n’ Ready, host events across the country to present the fighters they produce.

I am greeted by trainer Ewen Campbell in the main gym, surrounded by ground mats and pads. Unsurprisingly he is a 6ft 3’ mountain of a man and his thick Glaswegian accent is exactly the kind of rugged voice I expect to hear.

‘Don’t worry you can sit-out and join in whenever you like.’ He reassures me upon hearing that I have never fought, boxed, grappled or even hit a punch bag in anger in my life.

My apprehension dissolves as each fighter greets me and the close-knit group involve me in the jokes and camaraderie prior to the warm up. It’s the calm before the storm.

Ewen’s laid-back demeanour disappears as the training session begins. He baulks orders as the large speakers pump out adrenaline inducing music. We start with fitness. A lot of fitness.

There are jogs and sprints mixed with rolling and cartwheeling. I’m surprised by the agility of my fellow trainees, most of which would not look out of place on a Viking battlefield.

Then we move on to the pads with 100’s of punches and kicks. I try in vein to keep up but I have to sit out.

Finally comes the moment I have been dreading, grappling. We are paired with other fighters to attempt the Jiu Jitsu holds that Ewen has demonstrated.

I pick Jorden in the hope my friend will go easy on me and luckily he does. Then we are told to swap. This isn’t what I bargained for.

I’m paired with Mo. The most experienced fighter and ex training partner to some of most infamous UFC fighters. I excrete an uneasy laugh: ‘Go easy on me’. I’m not joking!

Kindly he gives me advice on how to defend myself, restraining the brute force and lethal skill he had displayed with his previous partner and only inflicting monetary pain during our grapples.

As we warm down I ache everywhere. I’m too busy concentrating on not being sick to ask any questions about the upcoming fights that Ewen is trying to match them for.

When I leave the gym I’m left in no doubt that MMA is a sport. It’s as much about athleticism and skill as it is about power. And whilst the fights can be violent, and fans can be bloodthirsty, the fighters are disciplined and display the kind of control that means I can leave this training session unhurt.