He was the first person I met in this business 40 years ago. Simon had joined Motoring News in 1982 one week before I arrived to be assistant editor on Motor Sport, and as the junior he was sent down to usher me into the depths of Standard House, home of both magazines. He was cheerful, friendly and full of funny disparaging comments about the unusual place we were both to work. He remained the same for the rest of those 40 years – always upbeat, relentlessly funny, universally friendly.
It’s completely true that I never heard anyone say a bad word about Simon. He was the same cheerful soul with everyone from Formula 1 prima donna to hopeful amateur snapper at Thruxton, always with time to stop and advise, or just chat about racing. He could do that on camera too, fronting interviews and podcasts with JYS and Damon Hill with the same ease as he could keep a room full of enthusiasts laughing at a club night talk. He was lightning-quick with a funny line, the Lee Mack of our business, and loved writing abstruse headlines referring to obscure music tracks (you had to be of a certain generation to get the BTCC headline ‘Alfa’s Man, Alfa’s Biscuit’). Simon’s was the uncredited hand behind the tortuous pun headings in the Daily Telegraph’s Honest John column, too; when one editor junked them there was an outcry from readers.
For someone who wrote serious, considered, knowledgeable analyses of racing in the broadsheets as well as the specialist press, he loved a wind-up. When an MN rally reporter came back from an event boasting of an amorous conquest, Simon waited three months, then contrived a fake solicitor’s letter stating there was a baby on the way. He let the ‘father’ stew for a morning before he came clean.
Simon interviews Emerson Fittipaldi this summer for Motor Sport
Like me Simon didn’t believe in soft-soaping the bad things of life: he was completely upfront and open about his diabetes, his eye problem, his personal concerns, the sudden sad loss of Michèle his wife two years ago. Bad things happen but they don’t cancel the good things, was his mantra. I never saw him angry, nor ever depressed, just the same cheeky grin, the same bouncing walk and the same bouncy talk. He genuinely did light up the office, and losing such a valued colleague leaves a hole that covers not just Motor Sport but the racing world, not to mention his family and many, many friends.
I know that for months to come I’ll keep thinking “Ha, that’ll amuse Simon”, but no longer will that lead to the ping-pong emails of cheerful insults, avian ID, prog rock and obscure racing facts that used to lighten my day. I’m so happy that the chirpy figure who met me at that door 40 years ago became my friend.
Motor Sport extends its condolences to Simon’s children Tom and Lucy, his sister Clare, father Mike, and wider family and friends.
Read the brilliance of Simon Arron in the Motor Sport Archive