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Ah, without doubt my favourite of them all. But why? I'm 34, and his career ended five years before I was even born.
Because Stirling, throughout his career, has backed up his extraordinary driving talent with an exemplary appreciation of who ultimately pays his wages - the racegoing public. From the earliest days in the 500cc Formula 3 cars, he would wave acknowledgement to the crowds, who would of course wave back. He would self-deprecatingly suggest that this was in order to raise his attendance money, by making race organisers think he was more popular than the next guy, but I think it was more heartfelt than that.
If he earned money by endorsing products in the fifties, he seemed to endorse the right ones to further ally himself with his fan base. I've got a Dinky Toys collectors club card passed on by a relative, which is in the form of an oldstyle car logbook, and countersigned by "Stirling Moss, Membership number 1". Guess how many miniature Stirling Mosses raced their Vanwalls and Mercedes round the carpets of fifties England...!
He had a sense of fair play. He backed up Mike Hawthorn at the Reims race of 1958 when Mike shot down an escape road and came back the wrong way. A protest and a disqualification would have been perfectly within Stirling's rights, but instead he sided with Mike. I think I'm right in saying the points that Mike saved that day beat Stirling to the '58 championship.
When Stirling was reported to the police for poor lane discipline in the Mersey Tunnel, Motor Sport magazine published the name and address of the citizen who "shopped" the brightest star of British motor racing. By 1960, this was the level of adoration for him.
And all these years later, he still has time for the fans. I can testify to this, as I know I've related in this place before. I once encountered him in the Silverstone paddock, when he had just endured a bad qualifying session in an ill-handling and recalcitrent MG B. Hot and bothered, he was leaning on his trademark motor scooter, and generally seemed thoroughly at odds with his morning. However, this was Stirling Moss, and I had a camera to hand. So I gingerly went up to him and asked "May I take your picture, Mr Moss?"
At once, his countenance changed. He made an expansive gesture with his arms, and with an "Of course, dear boy!" he stepped back from the scooter and posed for my humble little instant camera. We shook hands, and I went away confirmed in my enthusiasm for this legend of motor sport. Needless to say, the resulting snapshot is one of the most cherished items in my collection.
I've scarcely mentioned his racing. I've seen him race competitive modern cars in the BTCC - he was driving the Akai Audi 80 with Martin Brundle in the early 1980s. It was not his forte. Doorhandling with other touring cars does not sit well with his driving finesse. I'll admit I've never seen him in his prime. But Stirling Moss is still a match for most averagely good drivers. Seeing him at Goodwood in '98 taking an Aston DBR1 by the scruff of the neck and dicing with Brundle in a D Type and Tiff Needell in a Lister is one of my all time favourite memories. At 70, he was every bit as aggressive as men half his age.
And that is why Sir Stirling Moss is, for me, every bit the legend he deserves to be.
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