“Sex – the breakfast of Champions” was the legend on the T-shirt the 1976 Formula 1 World Champion wore under his driving suit. Ex-public schoolboy irreverence that only partially sums up this deceptively talented, sophisticated and intelligent man. He personified that much overworked term charisma, but he was also an instinctively brilliant, hard-charging driver who won the world title, 10 Grands Prix, scored 23 podium places and took 14 pole positions.
Despite all that success, James never really took himself or the establishment too seriously, preferring to turn up to sponsors’ parties in a T-shirt, jeans and sockless or, when he was in a good mood, a tuxedo and tennis shoes. After he retired from F1, James lucked into a job as one of the two BBC TV Grand Prix commentators, paired with national icon Murray Walker. But it was James who almost singlehandedly brought the disappearing millions back to their televisions to watch Grand Prix motor racing and hear his startling blend of upmarket charm and pithy straight talking, roundly lambasting drivers he considered stupid or lazy. “Bullshit” is a term that sometimes slipped out of James and onto the BBC airwaves if he didn’t agree with some driver’s antics or pre-race remarks.
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