Eddie Jordan - a chaotic genius with a heart of gold

Formula One has lost a legend who came from nothing to challenge the sport with guile and his refusal to be denied

The first and only time I met Formula One maverick Eddie Jordan there was almost an accident. It was at a function at the 2001 Laureus Awards in Monaco, the room was thick with stars of sport and film.

There was a healthy grouping of South Africans. Mike Horn, the explorer, was a nominee. His handshake mashed my fingers. Francois Pienaar, the former Bok captain, was a guest. One lady got very excited and insisted that she have a picture taken with him. The lady looked at him lovingly and told him she could now die happy as she had finally met Sting. Sting from The Police. Not Pienaar of the Boks.

I drank bubbles on the rooftop of a hotel with Morne du Plessis overlooking the Monaco Grand Prix track that was to be used next week. He introduced me to Kapil Dev, Dawn Fraser and Hugo Porta. At a cocktail party on a beach, Jürgen Prochnow, the German actor most famous for his roles in Das Boot, Beverly Hills Cop II, Dune (the one with Pienaar / Sting), The English Patient, Twin Peaks, Judge Dredd and A Dry White Season, was one of the many celebs annoyed with the long queue for the bar.

A certain sportswriter had come up with a solution and went around the other side of the bar, parted the curtain and asked for a drink. The barman laughed and sorted me out. I kept the spot secret for a few rounds, until I was tapped on the shoulder by a man “dying of thirst,” I wrote a few years ago. “He’d seen me bringing armfuls of drinks for friends and wanted some help. I took him to my secret spot.” That’s how I met Jürgen Prochnow. He hasn’t returned my calls.

John and Jennie Robbie were in attendance and were my constant party partners. At another function – the Laureus Awards have more functions than an Instapot – John was engulfed in a bear hug by Eddie Jordan. They knew each other through a connection who had gone to school with one of them, I think. Jordan was in town for the Grand Prix with his Jordan team.

John was almost propelled backwards by Jordan into Dwight Yorke, the Manchester United striker, who was in attendance with model Katie Price, who had taken on the moniker Jordan as Eddie employed her as a pit girl. John, a United fan, almost knocked over a United player. The headlines I could have written.

Eddie Jordan died last week having had an extraordinary life. Known widely as “EJ”, he had been diagnosed with bladder and prostate cancer in December, which spread to his spine and pelvis. His family said he “had passed away peacefully at his home in Cape Town”. EJ brought a “rock and roll image” and “fun and exciting element” to Formula One, read a family statement. “EJ brought an abundance of charisma, energy and Irish charm everywhere he went. We all have a huge hole missing without his presence. He will be missed by so many people, but he leaves us with tonnes of great memories to keep us smiling through our sorrow.”

Damon Hill, who took Jordan’s first Grand Prix victory in Spa, said: “Eddie was chaotic and a genius all at the same time. He had the energy of 100 men. He created so much joy and had a massive heart. There will only ever be one EJ. He left his mark on the sport. He came from nothing, he worked his way up by using his cunning and guile. And, by his own admission, it wasn’t because of his good looks but because he was undeniable. He had a way of getting himself into your life. He was extraordinary and brilliant. He had a lovely family, and he enriched life all around him. My heart goes out to them. The sport has lost a true legend, and we have lost a true friend.”

Kevin Eason, the former motorsport correspondent for The Times, wrote a wonderful tribute to a man who had become a friend. “(His last act as a team owner in Formula 1 was as outrageous as it was typical. And hilarious…”

“I asked him if he regretted selling his team after 15 years to end a fantastic story: he started out with a £5-million overdraft and ended with a fortune estimated at about £80-million. There wasn’t a hesitation. ‘Yes, of course,’ he said. But Bernie Ecclestone, Formula One’s hard-headed chief executive at the time, had become Jordan’s mentor and confidant. He, more than anyone, knew how the finances of Formula One worked and he advised Jordan to get out and sell before he was made bankrupt.

“Ecclestone organised the sale to a Russian oligarch called Alex Shnaider. Then the mischief started. Jordan had sold the Formula 1 factory, which sat opposite the Silverstone track — but not the land around the factory, nor the transporter trucks or even the driveway to the front door.

“ ‘I got a truck and a crane and put concrete blocks across the drive. They couldn’t get in, so what were they going to do? If the Tsar of Russia turned up, he wasn’t getting in. They had to pay. The devil is in the detail.’ It seemed Jordan had learnt a lot from Ecclestone, the master of fine print.”

Writing in the Guardian, Johnny Herbert, the former F1 driver, remembered: “Look at the pictures of the British Grand Prix in 1995 after I won. Eddie had the truck with his band, Nick Mason was on the drums, Eddie was on the drums, Damon was playing guitar, me doing tambourine as that was the only rhythmic thing I could sort of play. It wasn’t Formula One but the fun and the people that it dragged in after the race was brilliant and he loved it.”

“The Beatle George Harrison would be in the Jordan motorhome alongside Nick Mason from Pink Floyd, and there was glamour and girls, including a young lady called Katie Price, who adopted the Jordan name and then was smart enough to register it for merchandising before Jordan had a chance,” wrote Eason.

Eddie Jordan had a heart of gold, which John Robbie celebrated: “RIP my friend Eddie Jordan. A lovable rogue who dreamed big and achieved his dreams. In spades! Helped me organise a terminally ill SA kid to meet Louis Hamilton at Silverstone GP for Reach for a Dream. One of a kind. Love to the family. Hamba Kahle.”