Graeme Crosby - A way with the fairies

A chat with the fairy folk can only be for the good, racing ace Graeme Crosby tells ALASTAIR SLOANE.

When Graeme Crosby returns to the Isle of Man early in June he'll stop near an old bridge on his way to the famous road circuit and whisper to the fairies, "How ya doing, fellas?"

It's just to let them know he's back on the island. The fairies will like that. So will the Manx people, old bike racer Croz saying hello again, this time as a guest of the organisers in a special millennium parade of champions.

He first met the fairies and Manx islanders in 1980, when he was already an international race hero and before he won the first of his three Isle of Man titles.

"The organisers sent me a plane ticket and a fellow from the local tourist board picked me up at the airport," Crosby says.

"On the way to the circuit he stopped the car near an old bridge and asked me to come and say hello to the fairies."

Crosby had been a bit of a larrikin as a young fella, playing rugby and knocking about with mates in Auckland before becoming an apprentice motorcycle mechanic.

Talking to fairies, mythical or otherwise, especially under a bridge, was not something a typical New Zealand bloke did, Crosby reckoned.

But he had seen enough of the world as a champion motorcycle racer to respect traditions. So he wondered off to the bridge and said in his best New Zealand accent, "Gidday, fairies, how ya going?"

A few hours later a handful of racers, including the legendary Mike Hailwood, were giving Crosby a guided tour of the circuit.

"We were in a car and the locals said I should do about 10 laps to get a feel for it, but we settled on five," says Crosby, always an individual when racers lived hard and rode hard.

"Hailwood and the others pointed out characteristics of the circuit, where so-and-so lost his boot because the kerb sticks out more than any other place ... where someone else head-butted a wall - things like that."

Crosby will be reunited with his 1980-winning Suzuki bike when he and other former champions going back to the 1960s do a lap of honour in June. The bike belongs to a private collector in Britain.

"There are things about the Isle of Man circuit you can never forget," Crosby says. "At 29 and three-quarter miles (about 50km) it's such a long way that it's sometimes hard to remember exactly where you are.

"There is one part of it where they grow garlic, and you can smell it. So as soon as I got a whiff I knew exactly where I was and what was ahead of me.

"When you are doing 140 mph (226 km/h) it's good to know what's coming up."

Crosby is still in awe of the circuit. "I think about it time and time again. You have either got to be silly, stupid or something, to compete on it.

"I was the first rider to do six laps in under two hours. That was in my first appearance in 1980.

"Actually going there and doing reasonably well, without having bounced off any walls or crashed, was pretty good.

"It would be very easy to become complacent around there. You can make a few bucks, but it's extremely dangerous."

Crosby left Suzuki for Italian Giacomo Agostini's Yamaha-equipped Marlboro-sponsored team in 1982 and finished second in the world championship. He left the European racing scene at the end of 1982 and thereafter made only sporadic race appearances, mostly in Australia and New Zealand.

Through the late 80s and 90s he set up a retail motorcycle shop in Auckland and got his pilot's licence. A couple of years ago he sold the shop and went flying, piloting twin-engined aircraft on a courier run up and down the North Island.

Now he's back in the motoring business, this time swapping two wheels for four and selling Mercedes-Benz cars for Coutts in Auckland.

He must be good at it, because he was New Zealand's top Mercedes-Benz salesman in 1999. To say thanks, head office in Germany has invited him to Stuttgart.

That trip comes after the Isle of Man, when Crosby says goodbye to his old bike and racing mates, and stops at a bridge on his way home to say "See you later, fairies."

They won't strike up a conversation - they never have. But old bike racer Croz reckons they've been good to him.