Barry Sheene

The son of a former motorcycle racer turned experienced engine tuner, Barry spent his childhood travelling to various race meetings in the UK and Europe. The atmosphere was intoxicating and Barry openly admitted he grew up ‘more interested in bikes than schoolwork’: he used to skip class to watch practice sessions at Brands Hatch. The Donald Duck logo on his helmet first appeared in 1969 and Sheene openly admitted it was a bid to attract attention.

‘Titles and trophies were waiting to be won, but I wasn’t that ambitious at the time. The fun aspect of the sport took priority as far as I was concerned.’ BARRY SHEENE

Barry made his race debut at Brands Hatch in March 1968 aged just 17 in a club event. By all accounts his natural talent was obvious for all to see. His first win came at the same circuit, in just his second race meeting, and a mere two years after making his debut Sheene was crowned the 1970 125cc British Champion.

There may have been something portentous about Barry Sheene growing up in a flat at the Royal College of Surgeons in London. Driven to succeed, he would ride to glorious and sometimes gory ends, his early years laced with the resilience that would one day see him crowned the greatest.

He was born to race. Father Frank, aka Franco, was the college’s resident engineer and spent his spare time tuning motorcycles for the stars of ’60s racing. His reputation led to a friendship and partnership with Francesco Bultó, founder of the Bultaco factory, and the opportunity for his son to ride good bikes in his nascent career.

That would spark some festering jealousy among Barry’s peers, but it would be trite to suggest he ever had an easy life. After battling chronic eczema and asthma, the latter not helped by being a schoolboy smoker, he became an honest grafter who valeted cars, delivered antiques and filled bins to make money, working almost as hard as he played.

Some of those teenage exploits are legend, such as the carnal relations involving a church crypt and snooker table, but his pre-Stephanie reputation as a playboy was almost severed, quite literally, before he even made it to school. A bath-time investigation of a toy train ended with the engine locked onto his nether regions, prompting screams and eventual freedom via Franco’s bolt-croppers.

Franco’s tools would continue to be a liberating outlet for Barry as he grew up. Variously described as difficult, cocky, precocious, obnoxious and, according to his sister Maggie, ‘a little shit’, Barry found his calling in the bike world.

It would not be a smooth passage, though. Authority always grated and the strictures of school were anathema to his independent spirit. Fights at his school off Trafalgar Square were common and even led to his first foray into the spotlight when his brawling saw him talent-spotted for the role of a hooligan at the nearby Royal Opera House. And so Barry Sheene, soon-to-be macho star of one of the grittiest of sports, played his role in Tosca, Puccini’s tale of murder, torture and suicide, alongside one of the stage’s great divas, Maria Callas.

His opera career was short-lived and he dispensed with school as soon as possible. Franco and Iris did little to dissuade their dilettante to stay on, giving him a note for the headmaster and £15 so he could travel to Europe for a month as spanner-man for American racer Tony Woodman. He was 14.

In the modern era, when boy racers are fast-tracked through race academies and lavished with premature sponsors, it seems barely believable. Motorcycle racing in the ’60s was the sporting underbelly, with riders reasoning that three of them would be killed each year and that they would each have six crashes. Hence they crossed off their spills and crossed their fingers. Part of Barry’s legacy would be the way he propelled motorcycling towards the mainstream while championing greater safety.

Left: A childhood spent in the race paddock meant that a desire to race bikes was inevitable, although, initially at least, Barry was more interested in the mechanical elements of the sport.

Right: Such were Barry’s angelic looks that a number of his relations said he was ‘too pretty to be a boy’.

Back then, though, he was a skilled back-up to successful GP racers such as Chas Mortimer, but determined Barry was never going to be content playing second fiddle. The first race came in March 1968 at Brands Hatch on one of his imported 125cc Bultaco bikes. He flirted with the lead before the bike seized and he crashed. Deploying that inveterate resilience, he ignored the shredded skin and aching head to get back on his 250cc bike and finish third in a second race. It was a typical triumph of bloody-mindedness over bloodied lip.

From the start Barry stood out. He had the Donald Duck logo and then his name on his helmet. White leathers would also be ordered. Hindsight is always 20/20, but he did not really need gimmicks to get on, even if they quickened the pace of publicity. From working for Mortimer, he was soon chasing Chas in the British 125cc Championship. He came second in 1969, but that was a year in which a man who seemed bereft of intimations of mortality wondered whether it was worth it. The reason was the death of Bill Ivy. The charismatic Kent racer, whose early 50cc bikes had been prepared by Franco, was killed in practice at the East German Grand Prix. His links with the Sheene family, and the fact that he was one of Barry’s heroes for being fast and flamboyant, left Sheene pondering the point.

Racers rarely succumb to introspection for long. A year later a teenage Barry won the British 125cc title, and also made his Grand Prix debut in a one-off race in Spain, where he duelled with Angel Nieto before settling for second place. The Spaniard would go on to become the greatest of all small bike racers, with 13 world titles, but the man who pushed him to the world title in 1971 was still living out of the back of a van and employing a suspect mechanic. ‘He was the only one in the world who could not strip an engine, so I let him do the cooking while I did the mechanics,’ Barry recalled. The friendship forged with Nieto in the heat of combat never wavered. Decades later, Nieto would tell journalist Nick Harris that Barry was the ‘Valentino Rossi of his day’.

Sheene in 1969 posing with a young fan and his Bultaco race bikes. Barry’s racing talent had been recognised two years earlier by team owner Francesco Bultó, who was impressed by the way he ran in a couple of newly imported Bultaco bikes.

Barry’s first Grand Prix win came at Spa that year, after he had been fined for spilling fuel on the track while returning from a late night out, and he might have won the 1971 world title had he not suffered broken bones in a non-championship race in Holland. He drew on his resilience again by ignoring the broken ribs and bones in his back to take Nieto to the wire.

Barry with the 250cc Derbi at the Salzburgring, Austria, in 1971.

Many of the enduring myths about Barry were created in the time before he swung a leg over a 500cc Grand Prix machine. His caravan was deemed luxury by the grubby standards of the day, just as other riders would grudgingly recall the white picket fence he had marking out his space in the paddock. The truth was, Sheene wanted better for men risking so much and actually paved the way for others to ride on his coat tails.

Similarly, he is often damned for his negativity towards the Isle of Man TT, but it is easy for those behind the drystone walls to ignore more than 240 deaths on the Mountain Course. Barry went there in 1971 and crashed at Quarterbridge, but it is risible to suggest there were ever any half measures from a man who was so courageous around some of the world’s most dangerous tracks, both at home and abroad. Later, Giacomo Agostini, TT legend and the most prolific Grand Prix winner of all, would join the chorus of disapproval without attracting anything like the criticism; Barry was always happy to be first and ever ready to speak his mind.

The yin and yang of a racer’s lot saw a disappointing 1972 followed by the FIM Formula 750 European title in 1973. A year of reviving his image as the Next Big Thing came complete with domestic 500cc and Superbike titles. He was the King of Brands long before his star quality made him a commercial hit.

That was enough for Suzuki to hand him the RG500 and a ticket to the Big Show, the 500cc world championship, but his debut year was flawed and frustrating. As Phil Read beat Agostini in a battle of the old guard, Sheene was scarcely riding in the vanguard of change; he was again left wondering if it was all worth it when test rider and great friend Gary Nixon suffered a horrendous mid-season crash in Japan. Of course, he soldiered on to a distant sixth place in the title race.

If he thought he was through the storm, though, the resilience that had overcome toy train trauma and taped-up ribs was about to be tested like never before.

Barry Steven Frank Sheene was born on 11 September, 1950. The Sheene family – dad Franco, mum Iris, older sister Margaret and baby Barry – lived in a four-bedroom flat in Holborn, London, which came with Franco’s job as general maintenance man at the Royal College of Surgeons. It was a position he held for 40 years. Iris also worked at the college, as housekeeper, which meant she had the responsibility of cooking for all the visiting surgeons.

Sleep was never one of Barry’s main attributes, as he continually scratched himself when lying down in his cot, keeping everyone else awake. He also suffered terribly with asthma until his teens, and a severe attack during the family holiday to the Isle of Man TT in 1955 saw him spend two days in Noble’s Hospital.

His sister Maggie was actually born in Brighton after Iris was advised to move out of London due to the bombing dangers of the 1940s. Margaret eventually married Paul Smart, one of the UK’s leading motorcycle racers of the 1960s and ’70s.

‘I was never a weedy, fragile-looking kid like some are with asthma . . . I was as tough as any youngster of my age.’ BARRY SHEENE

Barry takes a ride on one of his dad’s Bultacos. Sheene senior, Franco, was a keen racer, riding at leading UK meetings held at Brooklands, Blandford, Oulton Park and the Isle of Man. He retired in 1956 to spend more time with his family. He returned to the circuits during the 1960s, tuning 50cc and 125cc Bultaco machinery for a number of riders, including future World Champions Phil Read and Bill Ivy. When Franco raced, Barry would be with him, watching and learning. The two were inseparable. Years later, Franco would be ever-present with Barry in race paddocks all round the world.

Barry was also well known for his mechanical prowess, having learned his skills at an early age from his father Franco. Aged only 14, Barry skipped school to spend a month in Europe as a Grand Prix motorcycle mechanic for American Tony Woodman. He would take a similar role in 1968 – this time for a full season, working with British racer Lewis Young. He could strip, fix and rebuild engines, something he’d picked up from Franco, who was not only a regular club racer but a wizard two-stroke tuner. Motorbikes played a big part in Franco’s life and most of his evenings were spent in the workshops doing something connected with machines.

Barry with his mum Iris enjoying an overseas family holiday.

Barry gets a helping hand to push-start his Bultaco at a race meeting in March 1969. His racing career had got underway a year earlier and his debut outing at Brands Hatch was something of a baptism of fire: he came close to a fairy-tale win, only to crash out when his 125cc Bultaco seized. Undeterred by numerous cuts and bruises he went back out in the 250cc race 30 minutes later – nervous, excited and full of adrenaline – to claim an impressive third. Sheene’s racing was firmly up and running.

Aged just 18, Barry soon became popular with fans of all ages. By the mid-1970s, he was comfortably the most popular British rider in the paddock, regularly staying behind after the races to sign autographs for his horde of followers.

Barry’s early breakthrough came while riding the 125cc, 250cc and 280cc Bultacos tuned so expertly by his dad, Franco, who had a long-standing relationship with Senor Bultó, the owner of the Spanish manufacturer. Barry’s first full season of racing in 1969 in the 125cc British Championship saw him battling with seasoned campaigners, such as Chas Mortimer and Jim Curry, and competing at the iconic race circuits Croft, Scarborough, Castle Combe and, shown here, Oulton Park. Note Sheene’s determination to streamline his body for extra speed.

‘The reason I started racing was to do something at the weekends.’ BARRY SHEENE

Barry ended the 1969 season second overall in the 125cc British Championship, a close runner-up to Chas Mortimer. The season saw Barry take an impressive victory at Castle Combe. Mum Iris (second right) and dad Franco (third right) travelled to all of the race meetings and made a formidable support team. The following year, 1970, Sheene would win the 125cc British Championship.

Barry posing with dad Franco. Together, they invested in a 125cc ex-works Suzuki twin cylinder, the bike that arguably transformed Barry’s career. The bike cost the princely sum of £2000, a significant amount of money in 1970, and it wiped out the Sheene funds, both father’s and son’s. The pre-owned race bike had achieved a lot in the hands of former rider Stuart Graham and would give Barry two superb years of racing.

‘My parents mean more to me than anything. I’ve never been spoiled but my parents have always been so understanding.’ BARRY SHEENE

Barry raced in the 1971 125cc World Championship, where he rode his own privately entered Suzuki. He also had a new 250cc twin-cylinder Derbi at his disposal, which he raced in the 250cc World Championship that ran simultaneously with the 125cc event.

The first time he raced the 250cc Derbi was in that year’s inaugural Austrian Grand Prix at the Salzburgring. Despite a terrible misfire, which meant the engine was running below optimium capacity, he was lying in a strong second place when the engine finally expired. More seizures followed in subsequent meetings and his only 250cc World Championship points came when he took sixth at the Sachsenring circuit in East Germany. He would fair much better in the 125cc category.

The luxuries of a factory-backed rider were a long way off, and it was a basic existence for the youngster Barry and his mechanic Don Mackay as they toured the 12, all-European, World championships venues in their van. ‘There was enough money to buy fuel and the floor of an oily Transit van isn’t the best place to get a good kip. We slept in two cold sleeping bags and ate like hippies, a can of baked beans one day, maybe a frugal salad the next.’

The World Championship season featured visits to Salzburgring (for the Austrian Grand Prix), Hockenheimring (German Grand Prix), Snaefell Mountain, Isle of Man (British Grand Prix), Assen (Dutch Grand Prix), Spa-Francorchamps (Belgian Grand Prix), Sachsenring (East German Grand Prix), Brno (Czechsolvakian Grand Prix), Anderstorp (Swedish Grand Prix), Imatra (Finnish Grand Prix), Dundrod (Ulster Grand Prix), Monza (Italian Grand Prix) and Jarama (Spanish Grand Prix).

The 1971 125cc World Championship witnessed Barry (4) battle all year long with Spanish rider Angel Nieto (1) on the factory Derbi and, to a lesser degree, Italian Gilberto Parlotti (2) on a works Maico. Nieto won five races to Barry’s three (the Belgian Grand Prix, Swedish Grand Prix and Finnish Grand Prix) while Barry scored the most points from 11 rounds, by 109 to 87. However, only the rider’s best six results counted towards the World Championship and Nieto took the title by eight points (87 to 79).

The ten-speed 125cc Suzuki may have been built in 1967, but when Barry raced in England in 1971, he would win the 125cc races nearly every time. He won the 125cc British Championship in both 1970 and 1971 and would almost certainly have won the 250cc title too in 1971 had he not opted to miss the final round at Snetterton in order to make his North American debut at a big money meeting in Ontario. British rider Steve Machin won the race at Snetterton and with it the title, leaving Barry in second.

Barry relaxing in the paddock prior to a race. Racers competed in both the World Championship and British Championship simultaneously, meaning that they could compete in as many as 25 race meetings a year on a range of very difficult circuits, such as the 14-mile Nurburgring or the badly surfaced Imatra in Finland. The prize money would range from £200 to £2000. It was a dangerous business too, with as many as six riders losing their lives a year between 1968 and 1973, including famous riders Bill Ivy, John Hartle, Jarno Saarinen and Renzo Pasolini. Safety standards were rudimentary at best.

Barry raced the Bultaco in British Championship rounds because the Suzuki was far superior to what anyone else had – whenever he raced it, he had dominant wins. With the Suzuki being a 1967 machine, it was also getting harder, and costlier, to obtain spares, so Barry felt it was too precious to risk in UK races.

A cheerful and confident Barry relaxes with Franco at the 1971 Isle of Man TT, following the 125cc race scrutineering. He’d enjoyed the TT as a young spectator and paddock helper, and was looking to score some valuable points for his 125cc World title campaign, having taken third in the opening Grand Prix of the year at Salzburgring. However, while dad Franco was an ardent supporter of the TT, Barry’s happy mood soon changed, and what happened on the following days would see the start of a difficult relationship with the event.

Barry led the 1971 125cc TT in the early stages until he hit thick fog over the Mountain and eased off. Experiencing clutch problems, he crashed out at Quarter Bridge at the start of the second lap. In his own words, ‘The Mountain circuit didn’t frighten me in any way. I just couldn’t see the sense in riding around in the pissing rain completely on your own against the clock.’

While Barry’s dislike of the Isle of Man TT was well publicised, the opposite was true for his dad Franco, who loved the Mountain Course. He competed at the TT between 1950 and 1954, as well as at the Manx Grand Prix in 1955 and 1956, finishing all nine of his races to pick up nine finisher’s medals.

‘It used to make me laugh when people said I wasn’t a real road racer just because I didn’t race at the TT . . . I loved racing at Scarborough and you don’t get more of a road circuit than Scarborough.’ BARRY SHEENE

Despite his crash in the 125cc Isle of Man TT race, Barry still took part in the Production race the following day on a borrowed 250cc Crooks Suzuki. He again posted good times in practice, but during the race he suffered a speed wobble, and the seat, petrol tank, steering damper and battery all worked their way loose. He pulled in after one lap – and never raced at the TT again.

‘Some of the best races I’ve had have been after a good bedroom session.’ BARRY SHEENE

Barry on a Hi-Tac Suzuki T500 motorcycle in December 1971. The machine was the work of constructor Colin Seeley and Sheene rode it in 1972.

‘The support of the fans is really nice, it makes everything worthwhile, but I don’t think I’m anything special.’ BARRY SHEENE

The 1971 season saw Barry turn professional aged just 20. This meant that he could concentrate on his racing career – and travelling round the world and getting paid to race motorcycles was a far more attractive proposition than driving a lorry around Central London or giving out tickets as a car park attendant. His good looks, relatively young age and shoulder-length hair meant he stood out on the racing scene, and he was increasingly attracting the attention of fans and sponsors.

Barry enjoys a pre-race cigarette as he leaves the pits while legendary mechanic Nobby Clark (right) looks on. In 1972 Sheene signed to ride a works Yamaha YZ635 in the 250cc World Championship under French importer Sonauto’s banner. At the beginning of the year, Barry was the hottest property in motorcycle racing, but a combination of complacency, loss of form and unreliable machinery meant this was a year to forget. He should have been challenging for the 250cc and 350cc World titles, but his only points all year were a third and a fourth on the 250 in two Grands Prix, Spain and Austria.

1972 was a season when nothing went right, but 1973 was a year that put Barry’s career firmly back on track. It was the beginning of a seven-year period as a works Suzuki rider and in that first season Sheene targeted three titles – the FIM Formula 750 Championship and Britain’s two most prestigious national championships, the MCN Superbike and ShellSport 500. Barry won the newly formed Formula 750 European Championship while his success in the 1973 Shellsport series can be seen by the number of stars adorning the side of his motorcycle. Winning riders were given one for every victory in the event.

Barry was given two machines by Suzuki for 1973 – an air-cooled TR500 and a three-cylinder water-cooled TR750. Both bikes were developed from road bikes, but they were housed in frames built by chassis specialist and former sidecar champion Colin Seeley. The superior handling of the bikes, combined with Barry’s own mechanical skills, ensured the partnership was a success: the Seeley-framed TR750 triple, seen here, gave Barry victory in both the FIM F750 Championship and MCN Superbike series.

‘In 1973 the works Suzukis were feeling right; I was beginning to feel right; and I sensed there might be something good at last happening for me.’ BARRY SHEENE

As Barry’s career gained momentum, his earnings as a professional racer began to improve, and by the end of the 1972 season he had enough money to move out of London. He eventually settled on Ashwood Hall, a six-bedroom country farmhouse near Wisbech in Cambridgeshire. Although in need of renovation, it had its own grounds and an apple orchard, and – crucially for Barry – it was big enough to provide a home for both him and his parents, Franco and Iris.

By his own admission, Barry put his parents through hell as a rebellious teenager. As he got older, though, his bond with them grew: not only were they always by his side at a race meeting, they also shared a home with him. So whenever Barry moved house, Franco and Iris always went with him. His dad’s expertise with machinery has been well documented and he was vital in giving set-up advice throughout Barry’s career, but equally important was his relationship with his mother. Their bond was incredibly tight right up until she passed away in June 1991, which left him distraught. So keenly did he feel her loss, sister Maggie felt it was ‘something he never really got over’.