The Top Gear Story (9 page)

There was also Rig Stig, who took the wheel of a brutally powerful racing truck, and true to
Top Gear
form, the stereotypes were in abundance with the whole right sleeve of his white suit being sunburnt. Just to even out the political scales, The Stig's Communist Cousin tipped up for Series 12's final episode wearing a suit in a fetching shade of Marxist red (later seen again in a DVD release for the ‘Vietnam' special). His actual Russian clone on that country's version of the show was called Stigushka. Back in Blighty, Herr Stig was introduced in Series 15, with a nicely predictable German mullet sticking out from the back of his helmet and finally, Vegetarian Stig has helped the team test a hybrid car – and yes, he wore green and had solar panels on his helmet. Re-named Janet Stig Porter, he came to an untimely end after inhaling the apparently ‘healthy' fumes of a technologically advanced hybrid car. A personal favourite is the Australian Stig for that country's own version of the show, who officially uses the same name but was unofficially christened ‘Stiggo' by one of the presenters.

The Stig has become a phenomenon. Even his racing gear has led to some fans buying up identical garments, such as the Alpinestars GP Tech racing suit, or most stylishly of all, the White Simpson Diamondback motorcycle race helmet (originally, a Speedway RX helmet; a former
Top Gear
employee later put her leaving gift – a signed Stig helmet – up for auction, where it was expected to fetch £1,200). His boots were known to be a size ten and only a well-timed camera flash by an
Auto Trader
lensman could capture his eyes behind the visor, so we knew he was not a robot (although the eyes were rumoured to look like those of Damon Hill!). Or at least, he was only partially a robot, like a cyborg or similar.

Over the years, a number of people have been suspected of being The Stig. Numerous racing drivers such as Julian Bailey, Chris Goodwin, Damon Hill, Heikki Kovalainen, Tim Schrick and Russ Swift have been linked to the role by a gossip-hungry press but none of these theories were correct. Tiff Needell was also mentioned, but he has raced against The Stig at
Top Gear Live
roadshows on more than one occasion (and once tapped on The Stig's helmet to ask, ‘Is that Perry in there?'). When Damon Hill appeared on the show to post a lap time, the media had been told it was Alan Titchmarsh as a decoy; this further fuelled speculation that former World Champion Hill was The Stig. Damon seemed genuinely awkward, causing further speculation, when asked by Jezza if he really was The Stig before ultimately denying it. When Jenson Button discussed with Clarkson the differing racing lines that F1 drivers took around the test track compared to The Stig, Button said, ‘Well, obviously The Stig isn't a Formula 1 driver then,' to which Clarkson mysteriously replied, ‘Might be.' When pressed, the BBC always maintained a stock answer, refusing to identify him and also ramping up the absurdity of the creature: ‘We never comment on speculation as to who or what The Stig is.'

Although previously denied by Perry McCarthy, rumours persisted that The Stig was in fact more than one man, although again this was always played down by
Top Gear
. However, when The Stig does certain specialist tests, it is hard to imagine just one driver could fill the famous white boots. For example, ‘The Winter Olympics' special saw The Stig take a full-size snowmobile down a near-vertical ski-jump ramp. Rumours suggest this may have been a famous Swedish snowmobile champion called Dan Lang. Likewise, when The Stig drove that huge racing truck, it was most likely this was also a specialist racer, not least because he proceeded to perform
some incredibly deft and hugely difficult power slides in the massive machine.

Conjecture about The Stig's identity ceaselessly swarmed unabated all over websites. Then, in the summer of 2009, rumours started to leak out that the identity of the character might be revealed during the opening episode of Series 13, after he had first tested the startling Ferrari FXX track car. Millions tuned in to see the astonishing Italian hypercar – which costs £1.4 million and whose owners can only drive it on an approved track when Ferrari permit them to do so.

The FXX posted a brutally fast time of 1.10.7 minutes, which easily knocked the previous leader – the Gumpert Apollo – (1.17.1 minutes) off the top of the leaderboard, only for it to be disqualified for using slick tyres. However, such was the fascination with The Stig that the viewers and studio audience were not particularly interested in the scintillating lap time by one of the fastest cars ever built: this episode was all about The Stig.

The racing driver was then introduced to the studio audience and took his place in the studio car seats next to Clarkson. After some preamble, the crowd then began to chant ‘Off! Off!' and eventually the mystery man lifted his helmet off to reveal … Michael Schumacher.

Although Clarkson played along while Schumie seemed a little bewildered, no one actually believed that the seven-times Formula 1 World Champion was The Stig himself. Not least because Schumacher earns around $200 million every five years, which is certainly beyond even the BBC's oft-scrutinised celebrity pay budget. Speaking in the media, former Stig Perry McCarthy said, ‘As if. Michael is worth more than a small country. And this is the BBC. Can you really see him wanting to drive a Vauxhall Astra round a track for £700 a week? That's all The Stig gets!'

To date, only one driver has ever beaten The Stig's time for a lap in the Reasonably Priced Car – 1:44.4 – and that is Rubens Barrichello. This came in July 2010 and a behind-the-scenes clip reveals just how much he enjoyed himself. He revealed that his goal had been to beat Nigel Mansell and the hardest part of driving such a basic car was finding the apex of each corner. Barrichello posted a Stig-beating time of 1:44.3. Clarkson had already noted that – unlike some F1 drivers – Rubens took exactly the same racing lines around the track as The Stig, something Lewis Hamilton also did. Notably, The Stig told Clarkson that although Hamilton's time of 1.44.7 minutes left him down the leaderboard, because it had been very wet on the day itself – usually attracting a four-second allowance – he regarded that performance as the most impressive. Notably, The Stig later revealed that of all the F1 drivers, only Mark Webber and Lewis Hamilton had let him show them the track's best lines.

Exemplifying the scientific and precise approach to the lap times on the test track, on the day of Rubens' record drive, Andy Wilman revealed that he had been wearing lucky underwear he'd had since 1995, originally for reassurance on aeroplane flights but now a totem for whenever the programme needed a good day at the office. So, a laser-like focus and exemplary driving skills, mixed with nerves of steel and reflexes of a ninja are not, after all, what's needed to beat The Stig – you just need lucky pants!

I
n British television terms, Jeremy Clarkson is without doubt one of the finest examples of the old adage, ‘you either love him or hate him’. Indeed, when Channel 4 broadcast a list of the
100 Worst Britons We Love To Hate
, Clarkson came in at a respectable No. 66: and that’s what Jeremy Clarkson thrives on. Seriously, I think if there came a day when everybody agreed with him, he’d quit.

Nonetheless, as
Top Gear
’s success increased throughout the 2000s, Clarkson’s personal profile rocketed and he is now one of the most famous household names in Britain. For many, Clarkson has become the unofficial voice of Middle England, especially Middle English men. We live in the age of the New Man: this is a man who exfoliates and moisturises, who cries at rom-coms, who understands that his wife may need a hand with the children and he’s not averse to reading chick lit. But a metrosexual Clarkson is not: he likes – among many things – fast cars, fags, beer and
speaking his mind. In a sense this is typical of a large chunk of
Top Gear
viewers and where Clarkson has won so many fans is because
he is unashamed
in his ways. Indeed, he’s proud of them and if he senses the slightest whiff of political correctness, he’ll attack it with venom.

The logical manifestation of Clarkson’s ‘apolitical-political’ appeal was the 2008 ‘Jeremy Clarkson For Prime Minister’ campaign, which unsurprisingly attracted rafts of column inches in newspapers and internet coverage. A petition was started on the No. 10 website forum by a group calling themselves simply ‘The UK Public’, with the original submission made by a mysterious man, known only as ‘Joseph Dark’. Its mission statement was as follows: ‘This petition calls on the UK Public, in a display of national pride and solidarity, to show through electoral strength and direct political action, its disgust and displeasure in the politicians and government of today, and the lack of tangible opposition. Only by the election of Jeremy Clarkson, a man whose integrity and straight talking has earned the public’s respect, to the position of Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, can the Great British Public once more regain its trust in its leaders, and be raised back to its position of authority in the International Community!’ The hyperbole accelerates as the copy goes on to say: ‘Clarkson is as close to a god [as] any mere mortal can get. His straightforward no-nonsense attitude would make our country great once more.’

Jeremy Clarkson actually shares his birthday – 11 April – with a previous British Prime Minister, George Canning, although his predecessor is somewhat older, having come to power in 1770. However, tenuous as this ancient political precursor was, within a few weeks nearly 40 Facebook groups were calling for JC to become PM. The petition was a perfect opportunity for critics and fans alike to regale or lambast the
Top Gear
presenter. His
Sunday Times
and
Times Online
columns were plundered by numerous magazines and websites for examples of what his manifesto might actually contain, although even a scant perusal would make it clear this would be a thicker publication than an Argos catalogue. Short of ideas, he is not.

The original petition quickly gained over 50,000 signatories and for a week or two, the on-line campaign was the talk of most offices and factories around Britain. At one point, there were in excess of 264,000 signatories in total across all forums. A rival petition
not
to make him PM, meanwhile, had attracted only 87 names. Eventually, Clarkson spoke out and said he would make a poor prime minister as he was always contradicting himself; even the office of No. 10 got involved with a very firm tongue-
in-British
-cheek response. On a YouTube video posted on the official Downing Street site, a 55-second clip showed the famous black door of No. 10 opening, sound-tracked by typically elegant classical music, before the camera swept up an historical staircase lined with pictures of previous leaders. Then a photo of Clarkson looking statesmanlike is focussed on and a caption states that officials ‘have thought long and hard’ about the petition and the fans of Jezza have made ‘a compelling case’. However, it quickly dismisses the notion, saying, ‘On second thoughts … maybe not’, before No. 10’s email address zooms off the screen to the sound of a racing car engine.

Notably, Richard Hammond and James May did not appear to have signed the petition. Clarkson no doubt found great humour in a similar internet campaign regarding Hammond – not quite so politically motivated, albeit perhaps far more popular: the petition wanted to make Hammond the new Dr Who!

So, let’s humour the notion for a moment and project what it would actually be like if Jeremy Clarkson
was
Prime Minister. Of course, there are elements of his personality that might cause a
few ruffles in the House of Commons. Quite how the Speaker of the House of Commons would react to statements such as that Americans ‘barely have the brains to walk on their back legs’ and people should avoid Norfolk unless they like ‘orgies and the ritual slaying of farmyard animals’ is open to conjecture. Besides, he was already not very popular in the House: an early-day motion tabled by two Liberal Democrat MPs – Norman Baker and Tom Brake – pushed for him to be summoned to the House to explain ‘a curious and misguided attitude to the real and major threat posed by climate change’.

Let’s face it, Clarkson is not one for holding his tongue on matters that he thinks important. The
Daily Mail
observed, ‘some of his views would make Genghis Khan blush,’ while the
Mirror
called him ‘a dazzling hero of political incorrectness.’ Clarkson joined in the ‘JC for PM’ fun some more with a
light-hearted
sample of his manifesto in the
Sun
. His opening gambit was to reverse all the new laws passed by PM Tony Blair and his deputy, Gordon Brown, since New Labour came into power in 1997, with particular highlights being ‘the bloody environment’, ‘the hunting ban’, the ‘endless tax demands on motorists …’ He closed by saying he was off for lunch and then a holiday – which is, after all, what a lot of people think politicians do anyway.

There were few dissenters, it seemed. One who did voice his concern was Clarkson’s good friend, the writer AA Gill, who perhaps knows the man far better than most and therefore has a right to comment: ‘It couldn’t get any wronger than having Jeremy in charge,’ he said in
The Times
. ‘I would have problems sending my child to a nursery school that had Jeremy on the Board of Governors. I say this with love and respect, but I just don’t want him ever to have a switch that’s attached to anything.’ He went on to deride Clarkson’s denial of global-warming as
‘Canute-like’, but conceded that his friend’s much-admired wife Francie would make a brilliant First Lady.

There was perhaps a genuinely political motivation behind the light-hearted nature of this mammoth petition, however; for years the eccentric political satirist Screaming Lord Sutch and his Monster Raving Loony Party had come to represent people who were so disillusioned with British politics that they needed an exaggerated protest vote, the chance to tick ‘None of the Above’ while still registering their voice. Screaming Lord Sutch was involved in politics across four decades but tragically, the great British character committed suicide in 1999, a year after losing his mother. Some therefore suggested that JC had effectively taken up his baton; given that Clarkson had no hand in the petition, perhaps it would be more accurate to say the British public themselves were looking for someone to fill the void.

Critics would, of course, point out the irony of calling Clarkson a ‘Man of the People’ since he is a former public schoolboy and the fees at Repton are currently in the region of nearly £10,000 a term, a figure completely beyond the means of most
working-class
men, who watch him with great admiration. However, perhaps the reason why Jeremy maintains such an appeal is that although he does have some of the (albeit generalised) trappings of the public-school lifestyle – he supports hunting, he enjoys cigars, etc. – he is otherwise very much a typical, outspoken British male. He doesn’t play polo or tick many of the stereotypical boxes of the middle classes. With class divisions crumbling in an increasingly fragmented British class society, Jeremy Clarkson’s fans don’t question his roots – in fact, many probably don’t even know or care.

Clarkson is certainly no fool – he knows that his comments irritate as often as they entertain, but he enjoys being the
bête noir
. When a survey of young Londoners revealed that 16 per cent
of 16–24-year-olds would like to see Clarkson as their city’s Mayor (the same figure backed
The Apprentice
star and noted entrepreneur Sir Alan Sugar), Jezza responded with a column in the
Sunday Times
explaining what he would do, if he did take the top job in the capital. This also gave an insight into what might have happened, had the ‘Clarkson For Prime Minister’ petition succeeded. Having initially thought he would be mad to give up driving Ferraris for a living to earn far less and be criticised every day of his life (no change there then), he pondered about certain parts of the mayoral job that he would like: ‘As far as I can tell, the job of running the capital is no harder than being a lift attendant.’ So we have Clarkson’s official-unofficial Mayoral manifesto suggesting he’d get rid of all bus lanes, sell the Mayoral eco-car and buy a Range Rover, go to The Ivy for lunch most days, take in a West End show, reintroduce fox-hunting in Islington and Hackney, increase the congestion charge to £50 a day so that only smart and expensive motors could be seen in London and finally replace Marc Quinn’s statue of a woman with no arms and legs in Trafalgar Square with a full-size bronze model of a Spitfire. Oh, and pass a law banning people from entering the London Marathon in diving suits or chicken outfits.

If Clarkson does have a dominant overarching political position, it’s his belief that government should not interfere with people’s lives: he once famously said those in power should ‘build park benches and that is it’. He was a virulent critic of the New Labour ‘Nanny State’, particularly the proliferation of bans, including hunting and smoking prohibition (on National No Smoking Day he deliberately smokes as often as circumstances allow); the Congestion Charge and other attacks on motorists are all similarly despised. Not surprisingly, he has little time for ramblers and endured a lengthy legal wrangle over a right-of-way dispute on his Isle of Man second home. He is probably not the
greatest fan of the European Union and given the urban myths about bans on bananas that are too bendy, etc., it would be no big surprise.

As an aside, Andy Wilman concurs with this stance about the ‘Nanny State’. He has even suggested there is a sociological reason for
Top Gear
’s popularity, in that since New Labour came to power in 1997, they had proceeded to preside over a Nanny State that was constantly placing limits and restrictions on people’s lives – health and safety, car legislation, anti-smoking legislation, etc. – and he believed there was therefore an undercurrent of ‘people who get nagged to fuck’ who found
Top Gear
’s irreverent middle-fingered salute to authority a refreshing way to spend Sunday evenings.

Clarkson has, of course, had his own dealings with prime ministers, notably former PM Gordon Brown. While on a tour of Australia in 2009 to promote
Top Gear Live
(an extravaganza of fast cars and stunts, now a globe-trotting arena spectacle), Jeremy was speaking at a press conference when he called the then-PM a ‘one-eyed Scottish idiot’, an observation that naturally caused immediate uproar. The comment came during a discussion about the global financial crisis and Clarkson was actually complementing the Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd on facing up to the extent of the damage. His actual words were as follows: ‘It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a world leader [Rudd] admit we really are in deep shit … He genuinely looked terrified. Poor man, he’s actually seen the books. We have this one-eyed Scottish idiot who keeps telling us everything’s fine and he’s saved the world and we know he’s lying, but he’s smooth at telling us.’

Even Clarkson himself seemed to know he’d possibly overdone it this time, because at the actual moment in the press conference he turned to Richard Hammond and said, ‘I said that
out loud, didn’t I?’ although he then laughed it off. The press conference was filled with the usual ‘Clarkson-isms’ such as calling
Top Gear
studio fans ‘apes’ (he’s also dubbed them ‘oafs’) and saying if the show’s motorcycle stunt riders were killed, ‘it’s not the end of the world’ because they are French. But it was his views on Gordon Brown that journalists fixated on and the incident soon threatened to cost Clarkson his job.

In fact, Brown lost an eye in a schoolboy rugby accident and Clarkson’s comment was seen to be in poor taste by many politicians and people in the media, as well as the Royal National Institute for the Blind and other disability groups. Soon he faced an almighty barrage of criticism over his remarks. Various Scottish politicians urged the BBC to take Clarkson off air. The Rt. Hon. Lord George Foulkes, a former Scottish Labour MP, said: ‘If the BBC banned Jonathan Ross for what he said [the message Ross, along with comedian Russell Brand, left on actor Andrew Sachs’ telephone answering-machine] and they have taken Carol Thatcher off air for something she said in private [‘golliwog’], then something should be done about Clarkson. He has insulted Gordon Brown three times over – accusing him of being a liar, having a go at him for having a physical handicap and for his nationality. It is an absolute outrage of the worst kind.’

The RNIB’s chief executive Lesley-Anne Alexander said, ‘Clarkson’s description of the Prime Minister is offensive. Any suggestion that equates disability with incompetence is totally unacceptable.’ Fairly soon it became apparent that Jeremy had completely overstepped the mark and he issued the following apology: ‘In the heat of the moment I made a remark about the Prime Minister’s personal appearance for which, upon reflection, I apologise.’ However, he later watered down the apology somewhat in his weekly newspaper column, clarifying that he was only sorry for making the remarks about Brown’s eye and his
nationality, ‘But the idiot bit – there is no chance I’ll apologise for that.’ Downing Street would not be drawn into the furore and simply declined to comment, arguing that, ‘Mr Clarkson is entitled to his own interpretation of the economic circumstances.’ However, Peter ‘Mandy’ Mandelson was a little more acerbic: ‘I’ve got absolutely no repeatable views to express on Mr Jeremy Clarkson.’