James Hunt: F1’s premier playboy

Today’s F1 stars exist in a mundane world of diet plans, sponsorship deals, and banal photo ops. But life in the fast lane wasn’t always so dull.

"In my day, the drivers used to go out after a race and chase girls,” legendary driver Stirling Moss lamented. “These days, they thank Vodafone”.

And nobody embodied the F1 playboy lifestyle like 70s heartthrob James Hunt.

The flamboyant racer had ‘Sex, breakfast of champions’ embroidered onto his overalls, and according to legend once bedded 35 British Airways stewardesses in two weeks.

In the run up to the crucial Japanese Grand Prix, Hunt was stationed at a plush Fuji hotel which also served as a stop-off for BA cabin crew.

"Every morning," team manager Alastair Caldwell recalled, “James would bounce up to the girls in his shorts and bare feet, say, 'Hello, I'm James Hunt,' and take them straight upstairs for a party. This happened every day for a fortnight."

On the same race weekend, Williams boss Patrick Head caught Hunt with his trousers down minutes before the race, cavorting with a Japanese girl in the pit garage.

After hanging up his helmet, Hunt threw himself into the party life, gaining a reputation for huge benders and manic shagathons.

Future FIA president Max Mosley recalled heading with Hunt to a party in Rio de Janeiro, when the driver’s friend produced a block of polished marble and three lines of white powder. Mosley politely declined, leaving James to sniff the lot.

But with money running dry, the former champ headed back to F1 as a BBC commentator.

During his first race, with his leg in cast from a recent skiing accident, Hunt smashed his way through two bottles of rosé, before resting his feet on the lap of co-commentator Murray Walker.

As driver René Arnoux struggled on the track, Walker reported the Frenchman was blaming his bad form on an engine change.

Now well oiled and slurring, Hunt slumped forward in his chair, and announced to millions of viewers: “All I can say to that is bullshit”.