Born to Be Riled (60 page)

Well, sorry, but on normal roads the S6 is outgunned: 340bhp may be a lot, but the Jag serves up 370 and the BMW a massive 400.

Time and again, I’d pull out to overtake a truck and be left there, on the wrong side of the road, wishing that a) I’d stayed where I was or that b) I was in an XJR. Put simply, the S6 is fast, but not fast enough.

And while the four-wheel-drive system makes it tidy on a wet roundabout, it does not have the poise of its rivals everywhere else. From time to time it feels leaden, ponderous even. While the M5 and XJR iron out bumps in the road, the Audi transmits each one with faithful accuracy. It’s sad this. It’s like sitting down at the finest-looking restaurant only to find the chairs are uncomfortable and the food is better at your local.

The funny thing is, though, that I’d go back. Food is only one bit of a restaurant’s make-up, in the same way
that high-speed poise is only one part of a car’s. And in so many other areas, the S6 is absolutely bang-on.

More news from Rover on the 75 front. With 8000 sold, it’s outperforming the Alfa 156 here in the UK, while over in Italy it’s been voted the ‘most beautiful car in the world’. Furthermore, a bunch of Middle Eastern motoring observers have voted it their car of the year. So, there we are then. It’s brilliant.

Well, sorry to be the one who relieves himself all over the bonfire, but I’m not convinced. I don’t care how many LCD readouts they put on the dashboard or whether the K-series power plant is an engineering masterpiece, the Rover name still smacks of postwar austerity; as a result, the 75 is a sort of wheeled Werther’s Original.

And then there’s that advertisement where the new 25 is seen driving round a roulette wheel. What’s that all about? It should have Dr Finlay behind the wheel, not some bird in a silk nightie.

And I don’t see how the situation will ever get better, not so long as BMW remains at the helm. It’s a bit like Manchester United buying Liverpool FC and telling them: ‘Be good… but not as good as us.’ The best Rover can hope to achieve is second place, and that’s why they are about to post losses of around £600 million. A sum described in City circles as ‘a lot’.

Then there’s Marks & Spencer who, like Rover, have a middle-aged, middle-England appeal and who are also
about to announce some catastrophic results. And meanwhile we have a £758 million Dome that no one wants to visit, a river of fire that didn’t happen, a big wheel that broke and a flame of hope – which was designed to burn all year in Birmingham but fizzled out after five days.

In Brazil, some of our football players lost an important game of football, and I understand that our cricketers, too, failed to do well in South Africa. So, all in all, it’s not been a good start to the third millennium for the Mr Smiths and Mr Robinsons of the world.

Some, of course, would say that this is predictable, that we should accept the fact that these days England is just a 44 dial code, .uk on the Web, the fifty-first state of America and the thirteenth member of the EU. They would argue that the empire is gone, along with Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, and that we are nothing more than a two-bit island race in a global village.

I, however, am proud of being English, in a passive, now-that-you-mention-it sort of way. I like the fact it’s always 57 degrees and drizzling, because this means we spend more time at work and less on the beach. And this, in turn, makes us richer.

I mean, look at France. Yes, they won the World Cup and, yes, they came damned close to taking the ultimate rugby crown, too, but so what? Their idea of a luxury car is a Peugeot 406, and their students have to get jobs in London since there are none in Paris.

And Germany? Think how delighted they must have been when they bought Rover, how they’d put one over on Tommy. But now it turns out their longest-serving chancellor was corrupt and their little acquisition is costing them £600 million a year.

Sure, I’m no great fan of Phoney Tony, but then he’s Scottish. As is his Chancellor, his Lord Chancellor, the Chief Secretary of the Treasury, his Foreign Secretary and the new bloke at Transport. Then there’s Prescott, who’s Welsh, and most of the rest are homosexual. England’s contribution to the Cabinet is Mo Mowlem, and she’s the best of the lot, by far.

And then there’s Richard Curtis, Marco Pierre White and Tara Palmer-Tomkinson. There’s
Notting Hill
and
The Full Monty
. I even had some British wine the other night, and it was bloody good.

But best of all, there’s Jaguar. My old XJR has just gone back after two years and 20,000 totally trouble-free miles. No, really, in all that time not a single thing went wrong, whereas life with my Toyota Landcruiser is a nonstop return trip to the dealers.

I’ve looked at all the alternatives. There’s a Jeep Grand Cherokee outside my house right now, but it’s too jiggly. The Mitsubishi Shogun is too brash, and the Merc M-class is just too Guildford. Which means that, some time this year, we shall get either a Discovery or a Range Rover, because they’re still the best 4x4s by far.

And what about sports cars? I know the new Boxster is a fine-handling machine that now goes as quickly as its badge would suggest, and I’m aware that six-cylinder SLKs are about to burst out of the pipeline. But, come on, neither of these is a match for the sheer brutality you get from a TVR. These things are so aggressive that they could almost be Scottish.

But if they’re out of your price range, then it’s off to Mazda for an MX-5, a car that wouldn’t be half as good if it were not for the Lotus Elan.

And anyway, we do still have an empire. It is a small island in the Pacific Ocean, and last time I looked the population was 8000. And all of them, curiously, have Rover 75s.

A taste of what Postman Pat has pushed through the Clarkson letterbox over the years.

Dear Jeremy…

‘If Clarkson found Norfolk flat and featureless he is in a minority. Norwich has a shopping centre that is as good as any in the country…’

P.G.

‘I think most Norfolk people wish that Jeremy Clarkson would revert back to his previous job selling Paddington Bears. I do not care for his road testing attitude and even less his patronising and sanctimonious views of Norfolk.’

C.M.

‘I was shocked to learn that the French Gendarmerie is using your photo for training purposes of how an English hooligan looks when he is full of britpiss. You should complain.’

T.V.

‘Clarkson, you are a freak. You scare the children the way you look on television. And it gets worse when you open your mouth. Unbelievable.’

T.V.

‘I am a squaddie on top of a hill near the border of Kosovo and recently saw an article calling you a fashion
freak. I don’t agree with what they say and I think people from Norfolk still point at cars as well. But getting to the original point, I think you are the coolest dude to put his foot on planet earth… keep up the good work.’

M.S.

‘I am 83 years old and I’ve been driving every day for a living since 1930. The modern cars you write about today, I wouldn’t have one as a gift. They are rubbish. Who wants to do over 50mph anyway?’

J.J.

‘Jeremy, wonderful how you sorted out those navish foreigners and those poofters, and German ones at that. Your friends urge you to consult a doctor and your enemies hope you don’t.’

T.V.

‘Just fill the magazine with lots of pictures of Jeremy and lots of articles written by him. He’s so gorgeous and sexy I’d like to cover him with chocolate and lick it all off…’

S.H.

‘As part of an English project, we are allowed to write about our favourite celebrity. I chose you because I think you’re funny and get to drive ace vehicles. My friend Max is writing to Tiff Nodel, the one who helps to present Top Gear with you. I think you’re better than him though.’

G.F.

‘Congratulations on your new talk show on the BBC. This is an absolute breakthrough. For the first time a baboon will have his own talk show.’

T.V.

‘I have a large collection of toy cars and trucks. The fact that you said collectors of toy cars are child molesters I found not only highly offensive to thousands of ordinary people, but of such you should be sent to a shrink to see what makes you tick… I wish upon you an eternity stuck in an old car in a convoy of trucks and caravans…’

J.F.

‘If the VC were awarded for stupidity and ignorance you would be one of the first to receive it. Nature seems to have given you a large body but a very small brain…’

B.C.

‘People who commit crimes are dysfunctional. They are alienated, bitter and resentful. So they attack symbols of success, like JC’s Cosworth and he wants to flog them within an inch of their lives, which will make them even more resentful. JC is intelligent, gifted and graced by success. He should not insult our intelligence by uttering such bollocks.’

A.D.

‘Jeremy Clarkson is without doubt the most appallingly sexist person to strut across planet earth but he has a valid, if slightly liberal point of view regarding the treatment of the vehicle villain… I have just had the misfortune of
being the victim, for the fourth time, of car crime. These bastards should be staked out naked in the desert… etc.’

G.M.

‘We are out there, the Supertramp music fans. I have all the music and if you would like anything taped please drop me a line.’

P.S. Did you see them at the Albert Hall in 1997?

M.O.

‘Dear Mr Clarkson, You’re a prick.’