SIX OF THE BEST?
THE MAKING OF A SILVERSTONE LEGEND
The British summer can go one of two ways. Roasting heat, clear blue skies and scorched grass.
Or thick, leaden clouds, a cool breeze with a persistent threat of rain. On the banks of Silverstone’s daunting corners, the hardy perennials make their July pilgrimage come rain or shine. Some years they are pink and shirtless; other times, sodden – battling the elements underneath a plastic poncho.
Bedecked in red, white and blue with a cool box of warm tinnies, their eyes are focused on the ribbon of asphalt in the distance, waiting for a glimpse of their man: the silver arrow sporting a tint of fluorescent turquoise.
As the number 44 machine races into view, their spirits lift. From the crowded spectator banks they watch him hustle his Mercedes around the majestic sweeps of Maggotts and Becketts – titanium skid block sparking as it hits the ground at 190mph. Then gone in an instant, flat-chat down Hangar Straight – out of view, but still audible, on and off the throttle as he makes another tour of the windy former airfield.
Lewis Hamilton has become synonymous with the British Grand Prix. For four consecutive years he was unbeatable at Silverstone, fuelled by the support
