Indulge me please for a moment or two, while I pay tribute to where it’s certainly due
If you happen to be an F1 fan, you’ll have most certainly heard of this man
Sometimes known as “Hunt the Shunt” , he was born James Simon Wallis Hunt
Naturally skilled with passion so pure, naughty school boy charm with magnetic allure
He defined the term “PLAYBOY” in every way. The world was his oyster, his life a buffet
Tabloids loved him as much as the birds, who swooned and chased him by flocks and by herds
His sense of humour was one for the books, it was only outdone by his smashing good looks
Charismatic and tender with a Rock Star smile, tenaciously ruthless was his driving style
The drug was danger, victory the goal, while the hearts of his fans, he boldly stole
Fast fists on circuit and faster to strip. Quick on the draw, from the lip or the hip
A modern day hero, who battled rivals on track. Mistakes behind the wheel, one would rarely get back
When driving was dangerous and sex was safe, James Hunt faced death, not a bruise or a chafe
He commanded attention then held it firm if not firmer. Living life to the limit, with impetuous fervor
Political correctness did not exist and breaking rules was required, just to subsist
The sport misses champions like bad boy James, when drivers were personalities and not just names
A quick glimpse at his life, in Ron Howard’s Rush, where some scenes are sure, to make many blush
Most stories are true, he was cool to the core. We shouldn’t forget though, that he was much much more
A father, a husband, F1’s Golden Boy. Champagne, cigarettes and a wee pinch of coy
He left this world, far too soon. Cheating death on the track but he was not immune
Let’s remember this champion, with this little rhyme. May his memory and legacy outlast all time
I’ll always fight hard to be out in front and live my life at the speed of HUNT…
By Ernie Black (@TheF1Poet). With thanks to the Hunt family for their co-operation and approval.
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