The underrated 917-tamer who grew tired of F1

Back in the day when April always meant Imola, I used to delight in evening trips with Denis Jenkinson into the mountains, where we would find chunks of the Mille Miglia course, and he would share his memories of the greatest sportscar race there ever was. Having accompanied Stirling Moss in the winning Mercedes in 1955, he knew whereof he spoke.

One day Jenks said what fun it would have been to do the Mille Miglia in a Porsche 917. With Rodriguez? Siffert? “No, no,” he replied. “Given a choice, I’d have gone with Redman – he was as quick as they were, and far more intelligent. With Brian, there’d have been a much better chance of getting to the finish...”

Redman drove in only a dozen grands prix, but for him it was always important that racing be fun, as well as a living, and even back in 1974, when last he raced a Formula 1 car, he found the paddock a touch precious for his taste.

It was never the case that Brian lacked the ability to hack it in Formula 1. Far from it. He finished third in his second grand prix, at Jarama in 1968, and in the monsoon of Monaco in 1972, subbing for Peter Revson at McLaren, Redman was fifth, in the process lapping team leader Denny Hulme.

PLUS: Brian Redman's Top 10 moments

Although Redman is remembered primarily as a sportscar driver, his prowess in single-seaters was amply displayed in Formula 5000, where he defeated arch-rival Mario Andretti more often than not: “I had some fantastic races with Mario, and you know what, we never once touched wheels…” Modest to a fault, Brian would describe himself as ‘a good professional’ though he was much more than that.

It was in 1965 that Redman first came to national prominence, winning endlessly in a lightweight E-Type, owned by Charles Bridges. The following year Bridges bought a Lola T70, which Brian raced with success, and in 1967 another member of the family took him into single-seaters.

Brian Redman, GPR

Photo by: GPR

“When Charles got out of racing, his brother David said to me, ‘D’you want to do F2?’” Redman recalled. “I said ‘yes, what’s the deal?’ He says, ‘I’ll give you thirty pound a week, guaranteed for a year’. Right, I said.

“We’d be away for a month, and when we got back he’d be sitting there, 10 o’clock in the morning, with a glass of whisky. ‘Hello, spud! Where’ve you been?’ ‘Well, Barcelona, the Nurburgring...’ ‘Eeh, that were a grand trip – how did you do?’ ‘Well, we were fourth here, and sixth there...’ ‘Eeh, well, that’s all right, then. Where are you going next?’ Very casual it was, really…”

That same year Redman went to Spa for the first time, driving a Ford in the 1000Kms, and 12 months on, now a member of John Wyer’s JW Automotive squad, Brian won the race in a GT40, partnering Jacky Ickx. When he returned a fortnight later, though, to drive a Cooper in the Belgian GP, a horrifying accident awaited. At Les Combes his car’s front suspension broke.

"I did Jarama, Zolder and Monaco, but while in the late ’60s F1 had all been a big party, five years on it was more serious, less friendly" Brian Redman

“I went over the Armco, and my right arm was trapped between the car and the barrier,” he said. “It was several hours before they operated – I remember shouting ‘Don’t cut the overalls off’ because they were new! – and the surgeon said it might not be possible to save the arm, so I was very lucky.”

Redman thought the ‘old’ Spa the most testing circuit of all: “Every time I went there, I’d lie in bed, sweat pouring off me, because I thought I was going to die the next day. I loved the track, but you really didn’t want to have an accident. Generally, though, it was lucky for me: I think I won five times there.”

A few years on, in the 1972 1000Kms, Redman was leading in a factory Ferrari 312P, but Ronnie Peterson’s similar car was closing. Les Combes again: “I noticed all this activity in the crowd, and I backed off and just got round. It had started raining at that part of the circuit, and the activity was people putting up umbrellas. Ronnie went right round the corner on the barrier. We won.”

In most minds, though, Redman is synonymous first with Porsche. “When I joined them, in 1969, they asked if I wanted to be number one in my own car, or drive with Siffert,” Redman said. “I knew, with Seppi, that I’d be number two, but I thought we’d win more races that way, so it didn’t bother me.”

Steve McQueen, Brian Redman and Derek Bell filming on location

Photo by: Motorsport Images

The Siffert/Redman pairing won many times, and Brian got on famously with his mercurial team-mate, while conceding the partnership was not without its frustrations: “Seppi only had one speed – flat out. At Le Mans in 1970 we had a four-lap lead when he missed a gear, so that was mildly distressing…”

Years later Redman was told by a team member that at Spa he had been quicker than both Siffert and Pedro Rodriguez, and not long before Wyer died Brian was moved to ask him, “Why did you never tell me?” “My dear Redman,” came the typically dry response, “if you’d known that, imagine what I’d have had to pay you!”

Late in 1973, Brian made a brief return to F1, driving a Shadow at Watkins Glen, alongside Jackie Oliver and George Follmer. “It was an older car, but I outqualified them, and was invited to join the team for 1974,” Redman recalled. “I’d just had a good season in F5000, with Carl Haas and Jim Hall, so I decided to stay where I was.

“Shadow signed Revson, who was then killed testing at Kyalami. In the meantime, the US F5000 series had been cancelled, so when I got another call, after Peter’s accident, I said yes. I did Jarama, Zolder and Monaco, but while in the late ’60s F1 had all been a big party, five years on it was more serious, less friendly. When Haas rang to say the F5000 series was back on, I told Don Nichols I was going back. I was getting 750 quid a race, but I thought, ‘I can win in America, and get prize money as well...’”

In 1977, during practice for the Can-Am race at Mont Tremblant, Redman had his biggest accident, when his Lola did a back flip at 160mph.

“I didn’t see it coming – it had been fine to that point, but when Jim Hall asked if I wanted any changes, I said, ‘Yes, take a quarter of an inch off the front wing’,” said Redman. “Ha! That was what did it. On the next lap, it just took off, and as I went down the road, the roll-bar – and then my helmet – actually wore away. I had a broken neck, bruising of the brain, broken shoulder and ribs...I really wasn’t in very good shape. My wife flew out from England, and when she arrived in Montreal she saw a newspaper with the headline ‘Redman est mort’. Fortunately, they got that wrong.”

For 40 years now Redman has lived in Florida, but his Lancastrian accent is intact, and complements a wonderfully dry wit. Now 84, he still drives racing cars fast, still comes across as a happy man. The once cruel scars on his face – legacy of an accident in the 1971 Targa Florio – long ago faded to nothing, absorbed into a deep tan. Mario Andretti once told me he thought Redman the most underrated driver motorsport has known, and I’m inclined to agree.

Brian Redman

Photo by: Jeff Bloxham / Motorsport Images