A familiar, bull-shouldered frame is hunched over a fat, grippy, leather steering wheel. Squat, wide-necked, purposeful, that must be… is it really?
Squint for a second and the decades fall away. Then suddenly – yes! – that is Nigel Mansell, the furiously determined 1992 champion, who was never shy about pushing a car to within an inch of its tyre-protesting life, no matter how unfavourable the circumstances.
Today, on a Silverstone Saturday, he’s squatting low in the bucket driving seat of the FIA Medical Car, a specced-up AMG Mercedes C-Class estate. The faintest trace of a smile is discernible (easily visible these days, now the trademark ’tache has gone) and there’s a glint in his eyes. On this hallowed circuit, scene of some of his most fabled glory days, he’s…