As you know, Stirling Moss and I never drop names. Stirl, his wife Susie and I were discussing this at his house in Mayfair a few years ago.
If you're reading this column because you think it's really part of the business section or you are a younger reader whose parents have failed in your education, Sir Stirling Moss was probably the greatest racing driver that has ever lived or will ever live. He was also sexist, homophobic and incredibly patriotic.
I wrote at the time that his favourite part of the world was Tasmania, his favourite race the Targa ("the finest I've ever done"), his "number one driver" was Wolf Blass Chardonnay and his number two driver was Norman's port. Stirl liked a drink and it was doing him good. He survived near-fatal smashes and household accidents like a fall down a lift shaft at his Mayfair home, remaining in better physical and mental shape than most of us until recently.
His official career spanned 14 years from 1948. During that time, he entered up to 62 races a year, not counting hill climbs, speed trials and rallies in 107 kinds of cars. He won 212 races out of 529 — including 16 Grand Prix — partnered Juan Manuel Fangio in the Mercedes Silver Arrows F1 team, won the Nurburgring 1000km three times, was a serious rally driver and at 81 was still competitive in historics.
It's important to understand that, unlike today, the cars they raced in then were narrow-tyred, mega-powered, incredibly dangerous beasts. And racing was incredibly dangerous. In the 18 years between 1952 and 1970, 32 drivers died during Grand Prix races in crashes that were insanely gruesome. Drivers expected to die.
As F1 driver Denny Hulme said: "We didn't know any better in the old days. Now we've got the most incredibly hygienic circuits you have ever seen. Some people criticise them. They say it's terribly boring motor racing. Yes, compared to the old Nurburgring it is … but it's better than going to a funeral every Tuesday morning."
Stirling was the first racer to become a brand. But like some rare human beings, Stirl transcended the sporting stereotype. As Charles Jennings, the author of Burning Rubber: a chequered history of Formula 1, writes: "Moss was consummate. He was adaptable, highly professional, not a great boozer and knew the rules backwards. He was a complete driver and a completely modern driver. He was nerveless too."
In 1958, after his steering column snapped at 250km/h, Stirl drove his Maserati over the banked corner at Monza, rolling into the dirt below. He scrambled out and mused: "Well if this is hell, it's not very hot, or if it's Heaven why is it so dusty?"