I have been deeply saddened by the news that TV motorsport pundit and ex-Formula 1 team boss, Eddie Jordan, has died, aged 76.
Always “EJ” to his friends, I first met Eddie Jordan as long ago as the early 1990s. I was at Silverstone for the British Grand Prix and he approached me in to explore whether I might be able to encourage Rover Group, which was based in my Parliamentary constituency, to partner with Jordan Grand Prix – still the new kids on the block in the world of Formula 1.
Already someone with a reputation as a wheeler dealer, after telling me what he wanted to talk about, EJ’s looked at me and said: “What I would like you to do is …” It all sounded quite businesslike but then there was a pause before his next words “… have some food!” as he beckoned me towards the Jordan motorhome in the F1 paddock.
It was pure EJ. Did he have an agenda? Of course he did. The wheeler-dealing never stopped. But the warmth was real and the Irish hospitality was genuine. From that day on the same warmth was always there. He felt like a friend for over 30 years – even though we rarely saw each other more than once or twice a year, normally at F1 events.
EJ was a force of nature. His rise from bank clerk and off-cut carpet salesman to Formula 1 team owner is the stuff of legend in the world of motorsport. It is captured evocatively in this video tribute posted by Formula 1 last week.
EJ was serious about the business of winning and he had a keen eye for talent. Before EJ broke into Formula 1, he gave future Grand Prix drivers like Martin Brundle and Johnny Herbert their first big breaks driving for his Formula 3 team. He was also the one who first brought Michael Schumacher into Formula 1. After Damon Hill scored Jordan Grand Prix’ first Grand Prix victory in 1998, moreover, EJ’s team was a contender for the Drivers World Championship the following year with Heinz-Harald Frentzen, taking on the likes of Ferrari, McLaren and Williams.
But EJ’s competitiveness never took away his warmth, nor dimmed the family atmosphere that always surrounded his team – both at its Silverstone factory and at the races themselves. With EJ around, there was always fun, humour and entertainment.
My early experiences of life in the Jordan family also brought something I had never expected to see in Formula 1. After the 1994 British Grand Prix was over, EJ brought a flat-bed trailer into the Silverstone paddock for an impromptu music gig, with Damon Hill on guitar, fellow drivers, Johnny Herbert and Perry McCarthy assisting with vocals, and EJ himself on drums, banging out rock classics like “Johnny B. Goode.” EJ was as talented a drummer as he was a wheeler-dealer.
It is difficult to come to terms with the reality that none of us will ever see EJ again. As Sir Jackie Stewart said in an interview for Sky News last week, “Eddie was the type of person who would never die.”
Like so many others in the world of motorsport and beyond, I am grateful to have known EJ and to have had his friendship.
Thoughts are with EJ’s wife, Marie, and with all the “Jordanians”, as he called his family in a Christmas video he sent out only three months ago.
RIP Eddie Jordan.
