The Coolest TV Drivers ever

The Coolest TV Drivers ever


Welcome to the world’s coolest TV driving stars to ever clamber aboard a car. Be they real or fictitious. Stars of the big screen and small are celebrated here in equal measure, in places where normally they’d pale into insignificance, victims of a culture where the car’s the star.

Well not here they don’t, as MT pays tribute to the drivers of the cars that they helped put on the automotive map in the first place, with their tales of drunkenness or debauchery. Or not. There’s everyone from Burt Reynolds and David Hasselhoff to DCI Gene Hunt and Bo ‘Dukes of Hazzard’ Duke.

We had to knock back so many ‘stars’ we could have created another two or three features. Which we will. At a later date, once the creativity’s dried up again. Noddy of Toytown – the original boy racer - was on the shortlist, as was the delectable femme fatale, Penelope Pitstop. Indeed, so was the amiable cockney butler from Thunderbirds, Aloysius ‘Parker’, the ex safe breaker and affable chauffeur to boss, Lady Penelope, the honey of the Thunderbirds posse.

Anyway, here’s who actually made the cut.

Burt Reynolds

The man who single-handedly invented the moustache as a car-fashion/fashion-car item way before Selleck muscled in on the act, shows us exactly why he’s the daddy of cool behind the wheel. MT struck up a keener relationship in his formative years than with his own pa.

Yup, the legendary ‘Bandit’ himself makes it to the top of our stack, not to be confused with Burt’s own stack. A place where many members of the fairer sex found themselves in the late 1970s, one of whom was his co-star here, an equally youthful looking Sally Field.

For those of you unacquainted, Burt Reynolds shoved his tackle into a pair of ill-fitting denims for the role of Bo ‘Bandit’ Darville for the first of three outings in 1977; then shoe-horned himself into the come-hither cockpit of his special edition Pontiac Trans Am to set about transporting 400 cases of alcoholic beverages from Texarcana, Texas to Atlanta and back in 28 hours flat. All due to a wager he undertook with Big and Little Enis, who were in the habit of setting nigh-impossible bets with ‘gearjammers’ that, to date, no one had succeeded in.

Bandit enlisted the assistance of his good ‘ol buddy, ‘Snowman’ – CB lingo apparently, it was all the rage back then, along with disproportionate moustaches and copious chest wigs – who just happened to own a truck in which to carry said ale in. whilst Bandit flanked him in his Trans Am.

Oh yeah, and he’s pursued every step of the way by ‘Smokey’ – that’s the hick police force to you and I – although he does become the people’s hero on his travails as all and sundry do their bit to aid and abet Mr. Reynolds’ law evasion techniques and get to his destination on time, and against all odds.

Many of the scenes are stolen at each twist and turn by a certain fellow actor going by the name of Jackie Gleeson, who portrayed the character of Sheriff Bufford T Justice. Bandits’ nemesis throughout his journey did his best to outwit the screen idol whenever the opportunity arose. Which sadly wasn’t all that often otherwise the premise of the film wouldn’t have worked.

Jay Kay

Jay welcomes viewers into his car life, with a guided tour of his lock up. OK. You have to put up with the inane ramblings of the ‘Fifth Gear’ presenters, but you can also mute the sound and just sit and marvel at no better private collection of super, luxury and rare collector’s models. And a purple Audi A6 estate.

"I've had a few Ferrari’s" declares Kay, in a typical riposte to some interviewer’s probing as to the funk singer’s love affair with cars. In fact, so enamored was the daft-hatted one with the Italian supercar, his long player entitled ‘Travelling Without Moving’ depicted an illustrative interpretation of his famed ‘Buffalo Man’ logo fused with the Ferrari crest on the cover sleeve. Not content with that bit of nifty – yet copyright-dubious – artwork, he drove three of his cars – including a Ferrari F50 – in the video that accompanied his ditty ‘Cosmic Girl’, taken from that album.

A keen environmentalist in his spare time, Kay supposedly owns around 25 vehicles that could be seen as supercars in the eyes of his detractors, and rumour has it that in total he has around 37 vehicles, including what he refers to as ‘staff cars’.

The truth – as always – is a little different, as at last count he has four supercars to his name. One of which is a mega-rare black Ferrari Enzo, which served as the muse for the track entitled ‘Black Devil Car’ on his last CD, ‘Dynamite’.

Kay's passion for fast cars has inevitably landed him in legal trouble. In May 1998, Kay was caught driving at 111 mph and his license was suspended for 42 days. He said in an interview, "I should count myself lucky. I've clocked up 175mph on a public road. If I'd been caught doing that, it would have been a prison sentence."

He’s also appeared in front of Scottish magistrates to face charges of speeding, apparently having been clocked at 105mph in a 70mph zone, whilst behind the wheel of a Mercedes-Benz G-Class. He was banned from driving for 6 months as a result of that demeanour.

Jay is currently holder of the fastest lap time in Top Gear’s ‘Star in a Reasonably-Priced Car’ challenge, having nobbled Simon Cowell’s previous best, whom he had temporarily lost the title too previously, and according to host Jeremy Clarkson is always pleading with to appear on the show again every series.

In 2007 Kay participated in the Gumball 3000 Rally, representing the independently-sponsored Team Adidas in a Maserati Quattroporte.

Bo Duke

Set to a backdrop of some good ol’ home boy banjo-plucking music, the country and western strains of one Mr. Johnny Cash are heard ringing out as Bo Duke goes through his General Lee motions on this piece of yee-haaaing footage.

Fast cars, Daisy Duke, moonshine, crazy driving, Daisy Duke, fast cars, Daisy Duke, moonshine, stunts...Oh yes. All done, dusted and wrapped up inside 60 minutes, the original Dukes of Hazzard TV series – as opposed to the sub-standard box office flop based on the show – was jam-packed with kick ass car crashes, daredevil stunts and much bonnet sliding and innovative car entering. The General Lee was the automotive star of the long-running, prime-time 1980s show without question, yet Beauregard ‘Bo’ Duke was the undoubtedly the coolest none metal element and reason for the show’s unmitigated success.

The younger of the two ‘good ol’ country’ boy brothers – t’other hillbilly, check-shirted racer was called Luke – Bo was the irrational, decidedly amoral ex-stock car test driver with an unruly blonde barnet and who elected himself to steer the most famous Dodge Charger committed to celluloid. Which was great news for the legion of viewers tuning in for the show each week, as the best thing about this floppy fringed laydee-magnet – who collected much totty air miles – was that he was always willing to jump the General Lee, no matter how improbable the distance between the car and its ideal landing spot.

Put it this way. If there was a gap worth circumnavigating – or at least looking like it could be – then Bo was your guy, always hollering at the top of his voice as he flew through the air…..Yeeehaa! Indeed.

Mind you, it soon got to the point where it was any excuse to holler in the end.

No one in Hazzard County could out-run the General when Bo was driving, not even his old adversary Boss Hogg. Nor his trusty deputy, Sheriff Roscoe P Coltrane, whose life’s work it was to catch and reprimand the boys for their illegal and constant running of moonshine.

A procedure that inevitably resulted in the siblings spending quality time together in the Town Hall slammer, only to be busted out just as soon as Daisy Duke’s cleavage appeared on the scene which seemed to work wonders with the local constabulary. Naturally curfew and the giving up of their rights to carry guns was part of the bail conditions, so instead they had to suffice with bows and arrows. No really.

Dubious plots, cardboard scenery, iconic stars and Daisy Duke. What more could you ask for to accompany your sausages in a bun on a Saturday tea time?

James Simon Wallis Hunt

Jimmy proves that nerves and prize money plays no part in his preparations for winning races in this motivational video clip, as Britain’s most hirsute F1 driver asks for a fag from a spectator as he takes to the winner’s podium at the end of the 1976 British GP. Couldn’t imagine PR-machine Hamilton acting like this.

Ok. Not a cool TV driver in as much as he was the star of his own fictitious show, as his real life was played out in front of a camera that just kept rolling long after the director should have shouted “cut!”

A proper 70s superstar – and not just cockney rhyming slang befitting of a disliked individual – Hunt was a living legend in his own front-pleated slacks. Britain’s fifth Formula 1 champ, he first got behind the wheel of a road-going pocket rocket in 1973. He finally got the hint and removed himself from said cockpit in 1979 after casually looking through his F1 CV, after browsing it and duly noting that it read like this;

Races started – 92. Races won – 10.

However, he did manage to stir his stumps and win the Driver’s Championship during his career. Just the once mind.

Now correct us if we’re wrong here, but this shouts to us the one thing. Slacker. The original F1 playboy before the phrase was invented, this man about town obviously - despite being blessed with racing skills that most of us could only dream about – couldn’t really be bothered applying himself that much. Which in our book qualifies him as pretty damn cool. It was clear that this would-be champ Jimmy, simply didn’t want to cramp his considerable style by going and winning things.

Nevermind the day job, head to the nearest bar, locate the nearest bit of skirt and see what happens made a deal more sense in his book. Still, the latter day mentor of a one Mr. Eddie Irvine – no less an unagreeable, wayward character at times – didn’t just disappear into oblivion once he took the decision to hang up his race booties and buff up his helmet, professionally-speaking, for the last time.

No. the highlight of his glorious career of seeming underachievement came in 1978, when he was asked to be the roving Ambassador for a globally renowned car manufacturer no less. With its own ambitious plans for world domination. Invited to tour the planet as part of his high profile role like a modern day Christopher Columbus spreading the good news, he was charged with pedaling the automotive prowess of whom exactly? Jaguar? Ferrari? Yes, Vauxhall.

At the time, purveyors of vehicular blandness beyond compare. A lonely, sad demise for a once proud man who made his last journey to the great Scaletrix track in the sky in 1993.

Michael Knight

After mistakingly being informed he could sing by untold amounts of tone-deaf Germans, the Hoff takes things one step too far by releasing a record in the UK recently. With snapshots of his iconic Knight Rider days well and truly behind him, he still, shockingly, manages to pull things off. In a video that’s tantamount to advocating kerb-crawling. Brilliant.

Otherwise known as David Hasselhoff..”A man, a machine and a bubble perm, bonded in a futuristic alliance dedicated to the righting of wrongs.” Knight Rider was to the 80s what Dave’s other equally successful vehicle – Baywatch – was to the 1990s. Apart from there being a distinct absence of spandex swimsuits at lest three sizes too small on show in the former, unless you count Bonnie and then, April’s daring outfits. Which if our memory serves us correctly ran to some fetching jumpsuits and high-collared blouses.

“…A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who doesn’t exist, a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless and the clinically obese…” Michael was on the payroll over at F.L.A.G, a secretive government foundation – so cloak and dagger it was simply an acronym - who rescued him when he was shot in the face by criminals.

Probably indebted, in return all they asked of him was that he embarked on a bit of justice campaigning on its behalf thereafter. He was handed a new identity, a new name and a black Pontiac Trans Am that could communicate with him. And so it did on a regular basis. In a sort of camply delivered, pre-sat nav manner as the twosome went about their mini adventures together.

Michael was unchallenged as just about the coolest bloke to ever drive a car, both on or off the TV, yet unfortunately the point where fantasy and reality met became a bit blurry for David Hasselhoff toward the end. After going away and reinventing himself as a huge pop star – in Germany – he got involved in Baywatch, again, something that tickled his ego so much the lines crossed further. Tragically, the last time we saw him he was attempting to scoop a cheeseburger off his kitchen floor. With his mouth.

Jeremy Clarkson

In usual forthright mode, the living legend that is Clarkson goes for the jugular, grabbing the neck and throttling the Toyota Prius. Only if he could locate its throttle. His usual degree of eco-sensitivities are never compromised, as he goes about introducing some firearm-owning redneck to the planet-saving Prius.

What more can we say about the demi-God himself? Our spiritual leader in this automotive world which we populate that hasn’t already been leveled at him or seen him guilty of? Nothing as it happens. Legend has it that his personal man space at home is clogged up with all persuasions of vehicle including a Lightning F1A jet fighter, and some say he’s the Stig, as they’ve never been captured in the same shot. No they don’t. That’s a blatant pork pie. But he’s definitely got the driving prowess to do the job.

Clarkson’s own inimitable sound bites could – and do – fill books, as he coins it in still further by regurgitating his off-the-cuff remarks and opinions on everyday things that irk him from paperback into hardback. Yet to MT his finest automotive observation has to be reserved for his reflections on the original Fiat Multipla, that – on launch – he eloquently described to being ‘a car that looks as if it has been set on fire, and then put out with a cricket bat.”

His flippant comments can make or break car sales given his command over certain sectors of the frayed denim-clad, mullet-sporting British car buying demographic, as his spat with Vauxhall testified shortly after the launch of the ‘as then’ new Vectra model.

Riling the manufacturer like it’s never been before; Clarkson was banned from ever test driving any of Vauxhall’s new products ever again. Although we do believe that fatwa has been lifted recently. His derisory quips toward erstwhile British car maker Bristol has also resulted in him being banned from the premises of any of its showrooms. And his guilty-by-association Top Gear cohorts, James May and Richard Hammond.

Having almost singlehandedly turned around Top Gear’s televisual fortunes with his ‘presenting style’ when it returned in its new format – once it had done the necessary evil and culled the likes of Tiff Needell, Chris Goffey and Quentin Wilson – a few years back, Clarkson’s long-sightedness with every aspect of the popular entertainment show has paid dividends. He is assigned to a role of ‘Top Gear ambassador’ as the show is exported around the globe.

DCI Gene Hunt

DCI Gene Hunt displays all the charm, suaveness and political sensitivities that he’s acknowledged for in this clip of one of ‘Ashes to Ashes’ best scenes. Which is interspersed with Audi Quattro galavanting to remind viewers its all about the car.

Possibly as politically incorrect as one man can be, DCI Gene Hunt prehistorically roams a fictitious police landscape of the 1970s and early 80s that no longer exists. Sexist to the point of downright vulgarity, bolshy, unethical and willing to turn a blind eye to bribery and corruption with equal ambivalence, Hunt is the antithesis of what supposedly makes the right detective chief inspector here in 2008.

He is but a figment of the viewer’s imagination though, or so we’re led to believe. First popping up in BBC TV’s smash hit time-travelling drama, Life On Mars, and most recently dug up, sorry, resurrected to reprise his curmudgeonly role in the sort-of sequel, Ashes to Ashes, there’s a point to him being here.

And yes, it’s got everything to do with cars, as it’s time to ‘Fire up the Quattro!’

Sitting there watching BBC1's Ashes to Ashes got us kinda thinking. Once we’d stopped newly romanticizing over Keeley Hawes' character I concentrated on the undoubted star of the show, a 1981 Audi Quattro, driven by Hunt with much enthusiasm.

From the moment the flame red, four-wheel drive Quattro burst onto this faux-1980s scene in the first episode, teased and cajoled into manic action by the cowboy-booted right foot of Phillip Glennister’s anti-hero, we’re hooked all over again. Like short-trousered young MT was back in the real day. (Are we really that old? – Ed)

Ignore the artistic license and falsified evidence that suggest as a permanent four wheel drive car it can be handbrake turned, and just concentrate on the raptous sound of the 2.0-litre turbo-charged, rally-bred engine as it’s thrashed this way and that in the name of suspect law enforcement. And let a lump form in your throat as Hunt emerges from the Quattro to utter the immortal line; “This is one bloke who you don’t wanna let his load off.” Peerless.

Eddie Irvine

Eddie Irvine ably demonstrates that he’s as good with a jet ski as he is with an F1 car, tells us that he needs a bigger helicopter and cycles to a pub, in a fly-on-the-wall documentary as to what makes the great man tick away from the Formula One circus that normally follows him around.

Fast Eddie, loose Eddie. A man on a mission. A mission as it was to actually win once in a blue moon would have been nice Eddie, the famed Irish Formula One driver who didn’t do anything by the book. Ever. Races = 128. Podiums = 25. Retirements = 51. Wins = er, 4.

Come on now Eddie, we could do better than that in the MT Hyundai Getz pool car, concentrate son, for the love of Christ. Although it’s way too late nowadays, you could have at least commandeered a car that stood you half a chance of a chequered flag finish, a splash of the old champers and some lippy planted on the cheek by some sponsor’s eye candy. Fancy sticking with Ferrari and Jordan, and then, upping zimmer frame and moving on to Jaguar when the sun went down on your F1 career. Jeez.

That said – and rewind a few sentences – and the playboy lifestyle was lived up to, even if not convincingly backed up by results. Nevermind, as being one of F1’s most entertaining characters was a lot to live up to and required constant thought and application. Off the track. And in the pit lanes.

If there was one accolade you could bestow upon Eddie without any risk of recrimination or reprisal though, and that would be ‘maverick’. Not as in a Top Gun pastiche way. More in an out-and-out ‘don’t look at me like that or I’ll re-arrange your face’ kinda way.

It probably comes as no surprise to learn that the handy-in-a-scrape Ulsterman was the protégé of the late, could-have-been great, James Hunt who we casually (what other fashion) mentioned earlier. Which accounts for the way in which he honed his F1 winning ways and disciplinarian work ethic.

Irvine’s most notable achievement came early in his career and arrived in a pit lane, rather than the track, and involved a certain Brazilian driver going by the name of Ayrton Senna, who, after one particular heated encounter out on the circuit aimed a punch at our boy, claiming that as a rookie he should show a little more respect for his elders. And considerably betters.


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