Colin McRae: A Tribute To A Proper Gentleman

By Steve Boxer

A couple of months ago, I travelled up to the idyllic small town of Lanark, an hour outside Glasgow, to interview Colin McRae. As an avid motorsport fan, this was an exciting prospect – McRae was, simply, the greatest rally driver Britain has ever produced, and his thrilling driving style had provided vast amounts of pleasure over the years. But there was also an element of trepidation: in his time in the World Rally Championship, McRae had acquired a reputation for a certain tendency to be unforthcoming, if not a little snappy, with the press.

On meeting McRae himself, any such fears instantly disappeared – clearly, that particular reputation had been a mere function of the extreme competitiveness, single-mindedness and dedication that were required to reach the pinnacle of rallying. What I found, instead, was the true Colin McRae: a proper gentleman, solicitous to a fault, relaxed, self-deprecating, devoid of any trace of ego and utterly likeable.

It was obvious that McRae, having bowed out of the rat-race of the WRC (a disastrous single-rally substitution for the then-injured Sebastien Loeb in the Citroen team the previous year was his last taste of the WRC, although he did say that he would gladly have returned to the WRC given the chance) had signaled a new phase of McRae’s life. He had abandoned his much-trumpeted residency in Monaco, and was busy being a family-man at the magnificent Jerviswood House, with its garage that doubled as a mini-museum and separate office building.

His main project was his clubman-rallying car, and he was talking enthusiastically about his plans to launch a major assault on the next Dakar Rally. One sensed that this bravest (and sometimes most reckless) of drivers felt relief at not having to risk his neck every week. Which makes the recent tragic events even harder to bear.

When we arrived in Lanark, McRae was at the optician, so we interviewed his dad Jim, another rallying legend, and another true gentleman, while we waited. The plan had been to take the McRae’s for a pub lunch, but Colin, unbidden, returned with a vast array of sandwiches and pastries, which were duly scoffed. Interviews conducted, thoughts turned to photography, and we decided to employ the most complete car in his garage, an Escort Mark II.

Colin himself, despite the presence of several mechanics, insisted on washing it with a pressure-hose, his love of machinery of all kinds shining through. Indeed, Jerviswood House is a treasure-trove of machinery – as well as the cars, a profusion of quad-bikes, motorbikes and so forth was in evidence. As if to underline that any trace of unnecessary recklessness had no place in his life, he drove us back to Lanark station in his Audi, in a manner that could only be described as stately.

In losing Colin McRae, we have lost both a motorsport and a videogame legend – although one hopes he will live on in the games that bear his name, and one feels sure that the world of motorsport will commemorate him with a lasting memorial, probably in the form of a regular race or championship bearing his name. If ever there was a reminder of the cruelty of life, it lies in the fact that, just when Colin McRae’s priorities had changed from competing in dangerous circumstances to building a family and a life of security, he was taken away from us. He will be terribly missed.

(Pictures courtesy of Codemasters)