The peoples' democratic blog of Matt Hayward

Richard Hammond book. Just avoid.

Er, frankly not what I expected. Here’s the breakdown:

• 2% about James May and the Jeremy Clarkson
• 5% childhood
• 5% getting to Top Gear
• 13% Top Gear pre-accident
• 75% ‘the accident’

Don’t get me wrong, of course I expected it to be about the accident. But much like the Walk the Line movie about Johnny Cash, I expected a big crescendo to his fame as a Top Gear host, then bang. Nothing. Instead he talked about how he shat himself on the way to the audition. More about him and the early days of Top Gear would’ve been very interesting. He does touch on how the idea of driving a jet car came about, but more or less in passing detail.

Unless you’re a nurse or involved in the health industry you too will probably have a feigning interest in this book. Don’t get me wrong, I owe Richard Hammond and the boys a tremendous debt of gratitude for doing Top Gear. But by crossing narratives from Richard to his wife Mindy as his hospital stay begins, every bane minute detail of Mindy’s doings is discussed in detail. Frankly it’s hideously boring.

Despite the bane minutia, there’s one interesting bit. The Hammond clan hire some ex special services lads smuggle them out to Scotland past the preying paparazzi for a well deserved vacation. It’s amazing to think that anyone would need such a crew to take a holiday!

This is more a book for the girls. It’s about love and empathy and Florence Nightingale dedication to the sick. It’s the kind of account your mum would write when her son goes to hospital to get his tonsils out. Now I want to invoice someone for the hours of my life this book has usurped and kill a hippie to feel normal again.