Win mentality shines through
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Bathurst victor Win Percy received a hero’s welcome on a recent trip Down Under. Sure enough, an energetic drive followed…
It’s more than six years now since a ghastly example of medical negligence paralysed poor Win Percy from the waist down. Weymouth Win was for many years one of the most popular of all leading British racing drivers, which always struck me as odd because normally it’s the slow ones who win friends, while blokes as quick and hyper-competitive as Winston generally attract more respect than true friendship.
But it was always difficult not to be engaged by the smiling Dorset driver and of course his record speaks for itself – highlighted by triple British Touring Car Championship titles in 1980-82, winning umpteen European Touring Car Championship rounds with Tom Walkinshaw in the 1984 TWR Jaguar XJS, then establishing TWR’s Holden Racing Team operation in Australia in 1990 and winning that year’s Bathurst 1000 with Allan Grice to topple three seasons of Ford Sierra domination “on the Mountain”.
This was a really big deal in Australia, and when Win finished second back at Bathurst in 1991 the only Pom ever to win Australia’s greatest race was really taken to the Aussies’ hearts. I found just how much around 2003 on a ferry from Melbourne to Tasmania, when Win emerged from the Gents chuffed to bits. “Here,” he announced excitedly, “chap in there just said ‘You’re Win Percy, aren’t you? I saw you win at Bathurst!’” Typically, appreciating how that might have sounded, Win then reverted to his more normal Mr Cool and added modestly “Now isn’t that nice?” Which of course it was. And also well deserved. He went down well with the Australian fans, and genuinely adored their country. We did several Classic Adelaide Rallies together, but he’d (perforce) missed several editions before eventually returning for last November’s 2009 event.
By this time he had recovered the ability to stand and walk for short distances with the aid of splints and sticks. His old friend Tom Walkinshaw backed his Australian return while Jaguar Australia provided a turbodiesel V6 XF saloon modified for him with hand controls. He was given a hero’s reception back at Bathurst, before taking the Jaguar on a Tasmanian tour, accompanied by his old friends Stephen and Carolyn Coffey. Stephen’s father, Ken, had raced a Cooper-Bristol in the 1950s and Stephen had provided his awesome Robnell Cobra for Win in several Adelaide outings – not all of which had seen them staying on the black stuff. One year Win overshot a notorious special stage black spot and hit a tree beside one against which Jack Brabham had shortened an Aston Martin the previous year. When Jack learned of Win’s indiscretion he just tittered: “Aah. That takes the pressure off me then…” Professional racing drivers? Sympathetic bastards…
Win ended his Classic Adelaide run really when he simply ran out of energy, his right elbow bleeding due to abrasion against the door trim while energetically whanging the throttle/brake hand-control lever fore and aft. Pulling it backwards opened the throttle, pushing it forward braked. He raved about the XF: “Just unbelievable for a standard production diesel – we were catching Porsches on some of the stages. I think Mr Tata’s onto a real winner there.”
But he admitted to some mixed feelings about his drive. “It’s only when you’ve got no feeling in your backside and legs that you appreciate how much driving really is ultimately a seat-of-the-pants thing. I loved being involved again, but of course there’s part of me that still wants to really compete – and that’s been left unsatisfied.” He should have said that to some of the local modern supercar hot shoes he’d just overwhelmed along the way. I’m sure they would have been decidedly underwhelmed to learn he could have gone even quicker. One Porsche driver he caught and passed said: “It wasn’t so bad until my nav yelled ‘That bloke’s in his sixties! He’s in a wheelchair and uses hand controls.’ And then added ‘And his Jag’s a diesel!’”
Stephen Coffey reckoned it was hard to tell any difference in Win’s pace, commitment and skill, though on their Tasmanian tour as the Jaguar’s brakes began to glow one limitation of hand control had caused a certain frisson. Initially its adjustment was not quite right, and as the brakes heated up Win found his knuckles were hitting the XF’s facia before the lever had provided full effect. “We’ve got no more brakes left, folks” became a cry the Coffeys began to dread. When we met them a few days later I swear their eyes were still as big as dinner plates. And dear old Win’s? Just beaming, mischievous as ever…