by Tom Rubython
Hunt’s only problem, if it was a problem, was that he was usually only attracted to wholesome, nice girls. He usually had no time at all for the flashy, busty and tarty airhead types. And the type of girls he liked did not always want to fall into bed with him. At races, he was very successful with women and, for those that resisted his charms, he had a fallback line that always won a girl over. He would tell them: “But I might be killed in the race.”
When Hunt was driving for the Hesketh team, Bubbles Horsley overheard Hunt using the line. It was just before a final qualifying session and there was danger of his driver not even qualifying for the race, so he leaned over to Hunt, who was sitting strapped into his Hesketh car with his helmet on, waiting to go out, and said: “Going to die in the race, are we? Well we’ll have to go a lot quicker in qualifying then, won’t we?” Horsley remembers that Hunt was very embarrassed and went out and drove faster than he had ever done, and easily qualified.
Apart from on the race track, Hunt’s main means of meeting women was by socialising in London’s west end. When in England, he was a regular in the pubs, bars and nightclubs in the Kings Road. He particularly loved chatting up cute, young, English waitresses in restaurants, and there were many of them working in London at a time before large-scale immigration started. After a few drinks, he thought life was a huge joke and found everything very funny. It was immensely attractive to women, and girls loved being around him. He radiated what was described by one friend as an “attractive bonhomie.”
In Christopher Hilton’s book about Hunt, called Memories, many people reflected on Hunt’s sexual prowess. Before he died, Nick Brittan said: “He was larger than life, boisterous and excessive in nearly everything he did, and he had a rather delightful arrogance.” But Brittan was not always an admirer, and added: “There’s a fine line between supreme confidence and arrogance, and James teetered on the brink.”
Ian Phillips was a regular in the Kings Road in the early seventies, and remembers: “James was the darling of Chelsea and the west end.” But Phillips declined to socialise with him when he became world champion, saying: “We lost touch because he moved in circles I didn’t want to move in. All manner of people want to know you when you’re the champion.” But Phillips understood the temptations put in Hunt’s way, and he understood Hunt. As he says: “I’ll pose the question: if you were 29, good looking in a macho sort of way, had the public school certainties, the bravery to drive a Formula One car and win in it, had the money and the adulation, what constrictions would you have accepted? If he pursued and caught beautiful women, wouldn’t you? It wasn’t even adultery. He was divorced, not married.”
Chris Witty, the well-known motor sport PR man, told the following story, and it rings true: “He’d go into a bar and, if there was a pretty girl and an ugly girl, he’d always have a bet with the mechanics that he would pull the ugly one – because she didn’t expect to be bonked that night and he couldn’t be bothered to spend all the time chatting up the pretty one.”
Jochen Mass, his teammate, also recounted an anecdote that reflected Hunt’s view of women at the time: “There was a girl called Mercedes, and she worked for Spanish television. She said: ‘Can I do an interview?’ He said: ‘Not a problem’, and they stood him beside the camera. And as she was asking him a question, he asked her (on camera): ‘Do you fuck?’ She said: ‘Thank you, James’, and walked off. Sometimes, he just went over the edge with statements and things like that.”
James Hunt was never afraid of frankly discussing sex and his requirements, even with journalists. He said sex for him was a therapeutic form of relaxation. He called it a “form of communication.” He said: “I don’t usually have sex before a race because I am very definitely concentrating. I find that it is the communication between two people that makes it worthwhile, and, before a race, I am pretty uncommunicative. However, if, say, I have an hour or so to spare before dinner on the night before a race, then I can enjoy the physical release. But I will only do it with someone who is fully understanding.” But, of course, he broke all his own rules as frequently as he made them. He liked nothing better than to have sex immediately before the start of a Grand Prix. As the famous story goes, he had sex just before the most important race of his life – at the Japanese Grand Prix of 1976 – only minutes before getting into his car.
But he never behaved so crudely with Jane Birbeck. They had met a year before, when Birbeck was having an affair with Mark McCormack, the chairman of International Management Group (IMG), the world’s biggest sports sponsorship and management agency. Physically, Birbeck ticked all Hunt’s boxes and he couldn’t take his eyes off her the first time they met, which was at a backgammon tournament in Marbella.
But there was a problem as McCormack was not a man Hunt could afford to upset. Hunt was also a client of McCormack’s company, as was Jackie Stewart.
McCormack and Birbeck had met at IMG’s office in London, and the 45-year-old American was a legend in the sports industry and the most powerful man in sport. He was manager to all of the world’s top golf and tennis stars and an author of the best-selling book, What They Don’t Teach You At Harvard Business School. The book sold millions based on the precept of how to negotiate a deal. But he was also married to Nancy Breckenridge and had three small children, who lived in Cleveland. Breckenridge was a stay-at-home housewife, bringing up the children and never accompanying her husband on his travels. Her husband was very discreet, and she never asked and was never told about what he got up to.
McCormack was very rich, worth at least US$20 million personally through his ownership of 100 per cent of the shares of IMG. He spent his life travelling on IMG business, making deals and looking after his clients.
But Hunt, after chatting to Birbeck for some length while McCormack was occupied in a business meeting, could sense that she was uncomfortable about seeing a married man with three children. But then Hunt, too, was a married man, and so he decided to bide his time before taking the relationship any further. But, by all accounts, she had captivated him that day.
After their first meeting, when it was time to leave the Marbella Club, Jane told Hunt she was returning to London with McCormack the following day but invited him to look her up.
When he was in London again, he did look her up; and so began a relationship that would last for more than half a decade. But it all started off very slowly and very properly, which was unusual for Hunt. It was a full six months after they met that he and Birbeck went to bed together. Hunt had wanted to make sure that McCormack was off the scene completely as he was genuinely frightened about the damage he could do to his career. Only when that was certain did he proceed.
Birbeck had no idea about this and she didn’t realise that McCormack’s fearsome reputation preceded him. In the sports business, he was nicknamed ‘Mark the Shark’, and with good reason. Many a promising young tennis players had had their careers terminated by ‘The Shark’. Hunt, aware of his reputation and having been warned by Jackie Stewart, did not want that to happen to him.
Recalling how long it took Hunt to make his move, Birbeck told Gerald Donaldson: “I was sure he was gay because he never made a move on me for so long. It was a rather bizarre courtship. We had plenty to talk about, but that’s all we ever did. He liked conversation and would talk endlessly to me on the telephone. When we got together, we’d have supper and talk into the small hours. There was no deep urge, particularly on his part, to make a permanent relationship.”
Birbeck was 24 years old at the time and a stunning woman. Her beauty was always understated because she always dressed like a tomboy, but when she got dressed up, she was a very impressive woman indeed. Hunt’s friend John Richardson described her as “a very cool, a very English, ice maiden.” Hunt quickly nicknamed her ‘Hot loins’, which got shortened to ‘Hottie’. The nickname was picked up by the British media and she never shook it off. Richardson remembered: “The name stuck, and the press picked it up and ran with it.” Gerald Don
aldson described her as “adventurous and fun-loving…with very obvious feminine charms.”
Like his wife Suzy, Jane was daughter of military man, also a brigadier, called Nigel Birbeck. The family was well-off and she was educated at a boarding school in Kent. Nigel Birbeck was renowned as a former deputy fortress commander of Gibraltar, where the family had lived for a long period. Jane Birbeck spent her teenage years on the Costa del Sol. When the family moved back to Britain, they took up residence in Buckinghamshire and she started to spend a lot of time in London. She worked as an au pair for a while before taking a secretarial course.
From the end of 1975, Hunt and Birbeck were seeing each other regularly when Hunt was in London. She avoided Spain, as Hunt was publicly still married to Suzy Miller and was living with her at the Spanish house. The last thing she wanted was to be known as was the girl who broke up his marriage.
But when Miller got together publicly with Richard Burton in early 1976, there was no further need for secrecy and the two of them became an item and began being photographed together. At first, no one knew who Birbeck was; and Hunt wasn’t in a rush to enlighten the paparazzi.
But the relationship was serious and passionate from the start. She also had a very fierce independent streak, which Hunt adored as an antidote to Suzy Miller’s neediness. He felt the failure of his marriage was primarily because he could not cater to Miller’s need for constant attention. Birbeck required none of that, and was a total opposite to Miller. Although she lacked Miller’s poise and ethereal presence, Hunt liked Birbeck’s bohemian style and her undeniable sex appeal. He said about her: “She has a strong personality, the strongest one I’ve ever met and the only one who could stand up to my strength, which is why we have such a good balance. I’ve never wanted to use or abuse women, but if you have a stronger personality you can’t help but be the dominant one, and the moment that happens you have no relationship. I don’t want someone to live for me.”
Birbeck also understood that marriage wasn’t on Hunt’s agenda after the fiasco with Suzy Miller.
The marriage to Miller had made him realise he needed an independent woman on his arm. There was initially no question of Birbeck moving in with him. He didn’t want it and neither did she. But Hunt often felt lonely on his own in Marbella and so he did what many single men do when faced with that situation – he got a dog. Well three dogs to be precise.
They were called Oscar, Gypsy and Barbarella. But only one of them really mattered, and Hunt formed a connection with Oscar that was to endure for 14 years. Hunt’s relationship with Oscar transcended any human relationship he ever had. With Oscar, he found a true connection, and a serious bond developed between them.
Oscar was supplied by a British vet, who was introduced to Hunt by Mary Richardson. He was immediately taken to Spain. It was the start of an enduring and rewarding relationship, as Hunt and Oscar became inseparable on the beaches, the mountain roads, tennis courts and golf courses of Marbella. Oscar was never on a lead and followed Hunt everywhere, jumping into the passenger seat of his Porsche 911 Carrera and leaping out when they reached their destination, just as a human companion would. Hunt would frequent cafes and restaurants that welcomed Oscar and, where possible, Oscar liked to sit at the table as well. Hunt said: “Oscar is very special.”
One golf club, the Aloha, sent out a memo to members banning dogs from the course. But the memo actually stated that the ban did not include Oscar because he was better behaved than some of its members. Richardson remembers: “James’ relationship with Oscar seemed far closer than any human relationship he ever had. He was completely devoted to that dog.”
The relationship with Birbeck, however, was initially not so smooth.
When Hunt declared his love for her and she for him, she was very wary of his reputation and didn’t feel ready to move in with him to share his life. She declined to come live with him in Spain and carried on with her job in London, later moving to New York at the end of 1976. Birbeck was remarkably candid to Donaldson about their relationship. She told him that he was a “spoiled brat”, something she didn’t realise at first. She was also well aware that he was incapable of being faithful to her. She would open the European newspapers and magazines sold in New York and see a photo of her boyfriend with a glamorous woman on his arm. She told herself it was because she was not there.
Hunt slept with so many women that year it is impossible to recall them all. In truth, he didn’t know all their names either. He had a fling with 19-year-old Charlene Shorto, the Brazilian socialite, and they were an item for a while. Shorto was the sister of Baroness Denise Thyssen, who was married to Baron Henri Thyssen, the iron and steel heir who also owned the world’s most valuable art collection. Hunt met her in Marbella, where the Thyssens lived and where she was staying with her sister. Shorto was later the muse of fashion designer Valentino and became a leading figure in Europe’s fashion industry.
It was at this time that Hunt also took up with Valentine Monnier, a supermodel and budding actress. She was a blue-eyed blonde who appeared on the cover of the American Cosmopolitan magazine in the summer of 1977. Monnier wore a gold evening gown for the shoot and was briefly America’s best paid model. Later, she became a minor actress. Monnier was a serious rival to Birbeck at the time, and Hunt considered leaving her for Monnier many times.
But ultimately, Shorto and Monnier were just two of many during 1976 and 1977. At the French Grand Prix, Hunt hooked up with then 16-year-old Ruth Caldwell, a very bright girl and the daughter of McLaren team manager, Alastair Caldwell. Because of his respect for her father nothing happened between them, but they certainly had a good time together.
But, despite all the dalliances, he always came back to Birbeck. And there was no doubt, despite what he said later, that she was the love of his life.
But Birbeck took a long time to adjust to her boyfriend’s chronic unfaithfulness. Hunt tried to hide it from her, but there were too many affairs. He was a very good juggler, but he just had too many balls in the air. When she was at his villa in Marbella, Birbeck would continually pick up the phone and, on the other end, presumably upon hearing a woman’s voice when she said ‘hello’, the caller would just click off.
They had terrible rows in Spain, and Hunt admitted that Birbeck would “throw terrible tantrums and lapse into silent sulks and not speak to him for several days.” She was initially angry at what she called his “lack of consideration.”
Birbeck never spoke publicly about it but it was often impossible to hide her disappointment, and she had to endure some pretty humiliating and sometimes public put-downs due to his chronic unfaithfulness. But she was not alone.
The Hunts and the Sheenes were very good friends during this period. Both men were world champions in cars and motorcycles in 1976. Barry Sheene’s girlfriend and later wife, Stephanie McLean, had to put up with the same kinds of problems as Birbeck. They had both met their partners in 1975 and both quickly realised they were serial womanisers, incapable of being faithful. Both McLean and Birbeck were of similar age and looks. McLean was regarded as one of the most beautiful women in the world. The two women often got together and discussed their joint problems with their boyfriends, but Stephanie MacLean did not have to endure the humiliations of Jane Birbeck.
There was no more public and no more humiliating put-down than when Hunt’s one night stand with a Dutch journalist was written up and published all over the world in the Dutch weekly entertainment magazine Nieuwe Revu, in July 1977.
It all started in March 1977, when Hunt scheduled an appointment at his villa in Marbella with Alissa Morrien, a blonde journalist from Holland. It was for a lifestyle article with photographs. But what Hunt didn’t know was that Morrien was on permanent assignment from her magazine to sleep with famous men, write up the experience and rate their performance in bed for the magazine’s readers. The magazine had a circulation of 200,000 and was only published in Dutch.
Morrien flew into Marbella and checked
herself and the photographer into the Marbella Club, which was situated not far from Hunt’s house.
Hunt spent the day with her by his swimming pool. During the interview, Morrien stripped down to her bikini and lay sunbathing on a sun lounger as they talked about his life. Hunt thought the behaviour odd for a journalist, as he said later: “I thought it was slightly strange when she started to divest herself of her clothing.” She questioned Hunt about his sex life, and he admitted to having many girlfriends despite his permanent relationship with Birbeck. At noon, they got into his Porsche and sped off to a harbourside café at San Pedro for lunch.
When they returned, he went out for his afternoon run and Morien attempted to joined him but fell back with a severe cramp after a few hundred metres and returned to the house.
When Hunt returned after 15 minutes, he took a bath, and the interview continued with him naked and Morien sitting on the loo seat, tape recorder in hand. It is clear that Morrien could not stop staring at Hunt’s penis, even when he asked her to look away. When he told her: “I will get shy if you don’t avert your gaze”, she admitted she carried on looking through a mirror. In truth, Hunt found it amusing and had no idea it would all be reported later.
After his bath, he invited her out for dinner with two of his neighbours.
Morrien described part of the dinner: “James put his hand on my knee and began stroking my leg. He told me: ‘I’d love to stroke you all over your body’, and I replied: ‘I’d love that.’” Morrien sent her photographer back to the Marbella Club and remained with Hunt that night. Hunt said later: “I had dinner with her and the rest is up to your imagination.”
Well not quite, as little imagination was subsequently required. Afterwards, by the time she had left and when he was informed what Morrien did for a living, he said: “It never occurred to me that I was being a gullible idiot. But I am pleased to have been able to help Miss Morrien with her journalistic inquiries. I was on good form and look forward to reading my official rating.”