NICE GUYS DON’T finish first. It’s a tired old adage, and one clearly disproven by the existence of Mike Wilds. During a career that has spanned 57 years (thus far), this instantly likeable wheelman has accrued hundreds of race wins. A mere stripling at 76, he is a model of calmness and self-deprecating wit, and is still getting paid to race the good stuff.
Nevertheless, Wilds is clearly befuddled by the attention, keen to chat but wondering why he is being interviewed. ‘My time in Formula 1 was a disaster. I only ever started three races,’ he says, forgoing the fact that he touched the hem of Grand Prix racing. Plus he had already survived a couple of horrendous accidents. ‘I suppose that’s the thing,’ he muses. ‘I am proud that I at least started a few races in Formula 1.’ Pause. More mulling over. ‘That is more than many drivers ever do, even really talented ones.’
He also didn’t have family wealth to call on. ‘I grew up in a flat in West London. What did it for me was cycling along to the Chequered Flag showroom on Chiswick High Road. I used to press my nose against the
