David Leggat: Classy Brock stood tall among Aussie heroes

A couple of builders arrived at my house one Monday morning. "How was the weekend?" I asked.

They looked at me as if I'd just grown a third arm.

"Bathurst was on," one said, as if that should explain it all.

Silly me. They'd strapped themselves into their chairs for the day, shut the curtains, opened many cans.

New Zealand could have gone to war, the South Island could have slipped off its moorings. These guys would not have known.

One was a Ford man, and he was chuffed. The other was a Holden diehard. Ford had won the previous day. One was happy, the other not. Renovations were slow that day. These were grown men, but I kid you not. Serious stuff.

When it comes to the subtleties of motor racing, I can't help you. Under a hood I'm lost. Petrolhead I'm not.

But Peter Brock? Now you're talking. Peter Perfect, as he was known, died aged 61 yesterday.

It has been a bad week for Aussie heroes, what with Steve Irwin's sudden death robbing the country of its much-loved larrikin of the animal world.

If you ask non-sporting Australians to ponder their most recognisable modern sporting achiever, Shane Warne would probably be top, but not solely for his cricketing gifts.

But I'd wager Brock would be a close second. He epitomised class, had loads of skill, daring, nerve and that ruthless streak you need to make it. In short, he was a hero, and even Ford hardheads would doff their caps.

The record speaks for itself. Nine times champion at Bathurst. In 1979, he blitzed the field by six laps. Think Bathurst, think Brock.

He won 37 Australian Touring Car races and for years he was untouchable as the legend of Brock and Holden flourished. When the commentators roared "Here comes Brock!" it brought a frisson of excitement.

That's rare in sport.

He retired in 1997, and if there was a criticism, it was that perhaps he hung on a shade too long. Maybe he found it hard to say goodbye. If so, among the true sporting greats, Brock did not have that on his own.

Dick Johnson and Mark Skaife have won the Australian title more often, but to non-believers, Brock had the name.

Smooth in racing lines and appearance, clean cut, he did wonders for the image of his sport.

He'll be missed, and wouldn't you know it, the next round in the Australian championship is Bathurst on October 8.

It's a rough old town in New South Wales. Not a place given to shedding tears. But expect a few that day.

* Two champions have different agendas this weekend.

One, Michael Schumacher, will be chasing victory in the Italian Grand Prix before his expected announcement that he's to retire.

His Ferrari team have a special affection for the Monza. And after that there are three races left in the Formula One championship.

There won't be any emotion. Schumacher is, to coin a phrase, a driven man. He can catch championship leader Fernando Alonso. The gap is 12 points. The notion of going out a champion will appeal to one of the sport's greats.

Then there's Roger Federer, and if you fancy a really solid bet, nip into the TAB and put plenty on him winning his ninth grand slam title in New York on Monday.

Once Rafael Nadal was eliminated, Federer's chances zoomed. Federer has won four of the past five grand slams and is chasing a third straight United States Open crown.

He plays Russian Nikolay Davydenko in tomorrow's semifinals. Davydenko is seeded No 9. He's no slouch. But in seven clashes with the supreme Swiss, he's won a total of four sets.

Either Andy Roddick, seeded No 7, or unfancied Russian Mikhail Youzhny will emerge from the other semifinal for Monday's showdown.

As with Tiger Woods, we should relish watching Federer. The trick about the greats is they make the damned difficult look easy.

Federer has lost five singles matches out of 73 this year. He's dropped just one set in five matches at the Open.

Don't jump the gun. Upsets do happen, I hear you say.

Dead right. Just not at Flushing Meadow this weekend.