‘“What do you want me to do?” he said when we got to his trailer. I couldn’t have him just staring at me, so I said: “Maybe pick up the phone?” I don’t know if he called anyone’
I got into photographing motor sport through my friendship with Damon Hill. When we met, 40 years ago, I had a job in the marketing department of an office supplies manufacturer and he was mostly on a motorbike, either earning his living as a dispatch rider or racing at Brands Hatch. Then he switched to racing on four wheels – his dad, Graham Hill, had been a double Formula 1 world champion. Damon is a really shy bloke and it was important to him to be with people who weren’t just fascinated by his family history. I didn’t know one end of a racing car from the other.
My ambition was to work for Allsport, the sports photography agency. Eventually, I got a job there and stayed on the staff for three years until I couldn’t cope any more with going to Tottenham on a Tuesday night in the middle of February. Eamonn McCabe, the picture editor of the Guardian and the Observer, gave me a few shifts a week, and suddenly I was in at the deep end.
