Flash Jordan

Growing up, Eddie Jordan was known as either Flash Jordan or ‘The Stroker’.
Both monikers are apt: Jordan is the first to admit that he’s always been something of a wheeler-dealer. The 60-year-old, originally from Bray, was renowned for coming up with scams to make money. He talks about how he used to sell fish on the streets, and carpets in the Dandelion Market. He’d do anything to make an honest buck.
It was this determination – allied to his natural charm, an apparently unbounded sense of optimism and his love of speed – that enabled Jordan to make it into the Formula One big time. And you get the distinct impression that if he hadn’t made his fortune in motor racing, he’d have done it some other way.
It would hardly be an overstatement to say that Jordan was addicted to speed. From an early age, he took to racing around on bikes or in dinghies. When he was eventually old enough to drive, Jordanturned his attentions to motor sports, becoming Irish karting champion in 1971. Having done time in Formula Ford and Formula Three as a driver, in 1979 he set up Eddie Jordan Racing.
There were twists and turns aplenty before he eventually got to sup at the top table, sweet-talking his way into Formula One in 1991 as Jordan Grand Prix, officially becoming Team Ireland in the process. Subsequently, over a 14 year period, Jordan made sporting history by becoming one of only five teams to win multiple Grand Prixs during the last 25 years – a remarkable feat by any standards for an outfit that came out of nowhere to take on the big boys of Ferrari, McLaren, BMW, Honda and Toyota. Along the way some of the best drivers in the world drove for Jordan, including Eddie Irvine, Damon Hill, Ralf Schumacher, Heinz Harald Frentzen and Rubens Barrichello. Indeed Michael Schumacher’s first ever race was in the Jordan colours. These days he keeps himself busy fronting his band, Eddie and the Robbers. He might be ‘retired’ from Formula 1, but you can bet that we haven’t heard the last of Eddie Jordan.

JASON O’TOOLE: You were kind of seen as an outsider in Formula One, right?
EDDIE JORDAN: People were always very sceptical of me in Formula One, yeah. I remember (McLaren principal) Ron Dennis used to say to me, ‘You are just not serious enough!’ But Ron is a megalomaniac because he has to have everything just so. I am the exact opposite. I think, ‘What is it that I need to do to achieve the win?’ I didn’t need to have everything stacked up in beautiful array. It’d be great if I had the time, energy and people to do it. But I’m trying to think about what will get us over that line first? And how devious do I need to be? The first thing I’d ask myself when we got a new sponsor was, ‘Will it make the car go any quicker?’ It might help sell the product but it doesn’t make the car go quicker. So I didn’t give a fuck about those things – once we looked smart and were rock ‘n’ roll-y. And the guys always looked smart.
Do you think that Formula One breeds arrogance?
Sport generally does. You can be very arrogant. There are so many people who think they are better than you. You have to believe that you are at least as good. To say that you are better is arrogance – and that’s what you have to tell yourself. When you’re sitting on a grid, you could be saying, ‘Jesus! How lucky am I? How many thousands of teams are there in the world – and I’m sitting on the grid with McLaren and BMW and Ferrari?! And I’m paying for my engines. And I’m getting engines that are two or three seconds worse performance-wise than they have – and I think I’m going to beat them? I mean, am I out of my head?’ Because that’s the truth. But you never think like that. Instead it’s: ‘I am going to fucking beat them. Jesus! Wait till I get them! I’m going to strangle them! I’m going to stab them in the eye! I’m going to fuck them!’ You’ve got to think like that. It’s vicious. But during the race you become such a mean son of a bitch that you just want the best for yourself and the worst for anyone else.
How did you react when results didn’t go your way?
I used to have to hide for ten or fifteen minutes because I’d be mentally drained and quite violent – with myself. Not violent in terms of I want to punch somebody, but kicking walls sort of thing.
When you won, you had a reputation for partying...
Formula One can be quite clinical and very clean and very matter-of-fact: ‘We are here to win and that’s good... blah, blah, blah. Thank you very much for giving us the results and bye’. But we’d go mad and have a decent drink and the press would be invited. Jesus! This was hysteria. When we won things we went mental and celebrated. We didn’t care. But not all night parties. I was never one for that.
So, would you guys trash hotel rooms?
No. They’d be sacked immediately. To be honest, I was really rigid about things like that. I have a real dislike of abuse of things, even waste of food. That’s the kind of thing that really does my head in. I have a real issue with food being left on the plate or thrown in the bin.
Women appear to throw themselves at Formula One drivers. Why?
I think women find it different! On the day of a race, yeah, there’s birds all over the place but you don’t even think about them. For me, that’s eye candy. The people in Formula One are very focused – on the race. At 12 o’clock at night they might be less focused! Naturally enough (laughs). I’m not going to say something massively critical here, but in order to be a racing driver you have to be above-average intellectually. That’s not a reflection on golfers or footballers or any other sport. But there are so many hi-technology bits of information that you have to process. You’ll notice the really bright ones, like Michael Schumacher, who understands the logics and the physics of the cars, and the science of making it go better. I think that’s probably an attraction to some girls. Some of the guys are good looking. You have people like Schumacher who was married to Corinna and they were never apart. But then you have the likes of Eddie Irvine and David Coulthard. David always has the most stunning bird that you could ever meet on his arm. And we know what Eddie Irvine’s reputation is like.
Apparently half the models in Ireland have been linked with Eddie Irvine.
Well, I don’t know if that’s all true or not. But Eddie has this reputation which is possibly a figment of the imagination of a lot of the people who write about it. Yes, Eddie has no problems attracting girls to him – but whether or not he has to beat them off, I would dare say, is perhaps a wish rather than a reality!
Speaking of Eddie Irvine, you had an uncanny gift for discovering drivers, who would make a name for themselves and then leave. Did that drive you mad?
Some left and some I’d sell, depending on the contract I had with them. But that’s how I made my money. I had them under contract and I sold them – it’s no different to football. In Irvine’s case, I had one year left on a contract, so what do I do? I sold Irvine to Ferrari for a lot of money. We were their youth academy! I brought that thing of selling drivers into Formula One – nobody had a clue what was going on. I had the guy under contract for three years and I’d always sell him at the end of the second year if he was good because I didn’t want a driver just going through the motions on the third year, looking for his other drive.
Did the drivers work for the team, or was it each man for himself?
They’d fight between themselves. Irvine and Ralf Schumacher were always at each other. They don’t consider it a team effort. They’re told all the time that ‘it’s a team, it’s a team, it’s a team’. And they sign contracts as if they are members of a team. In a football team you’ve got eleven players trying to shoot the ball into the same net, but in motor racing you’ve got everyone going around in a circle trying to finish in front of each other. It’s an individual sport within a team structure, which is very different.
What was your reaction to the recent sex scandal involving Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile (FIA) president Max Mosley? It is being alleged that he participated in a “Nazi Orgy”, with five prostitutes...
I was surprised. I’ve known Max Mosley a very long time. I brought him to Ireland. He made it possible for Ireland to have a round of the rallying world championship (last year), of which I’m still the chairman – and very proud to be so. I hope that the revelation of this alleged sex video of five hookers and the connotations that have lead to this Nazi reference is not true. But if it is true then that becomes a more serious problem. Whilst people are entitled to do what they want to do privately, this is not a private matter anymore – it is now in the public domain. As days go by, the pressure seems to be mounting on Max and I’m not sure how he’ll be able to withstand the damning effect of what the media are saying and still have credibility.
Should he resign?
I don’t know all of the facts, but if it was me I would say, ‘Max, you’ve been brilliant in so many areas and brought so much good to motor racing, such as safety and all of the things people don’t know about – but go! Don’t tarnish all of that good by letting this rumble on and on’. I can see that the tabloids are not going to give up. They are going to keep digging. It’s great for the newspapers because people talk about it. The fact that it’s on YouTube is something that I find somewhat distressing.
Why did you decide to retire from Formula One?
I wouldn’t say I should have done it earlier because there was still things that I needed to do, but I’m really relived and happy that I’ve got time now to concentrate on the things that I wanted to do for myself. Also, I wanted to devote more time to the various charities that I was deeply involved in. I wanted to spend more time at home because the travelling – over thirty-odd years – was very extreme. The financial pressure, as well as the sport pressure, caused its own stress. I’m still as busy as ever in different ways, but it’s more controlled. Formula One is just manic from the start of the day until the end of the day. It never stops. It’s relentless. The stress has now diminished and, as a result, my quality of life has improved.
But do you miss it at all?
Honestly, no. Maybe on Sunday night or Monday morning I might say, ‘Gee, who won the Grand Prix?’ And I really wouldn’t know. I write for a magazine called F1 Racing and that’s the only thing that keeps me in touch a little – and I’m always looking for things that maybe, as someone who has been on the inside, I can write about. Journalists writing about a particular thing for a very long time become friendly, or in some way connected, with certain people inside the sport and therefore what they’re saying is not always edgy, which I want reporting in newspapers to be. I want it to be factual, truthful, but I also need to know where is the edge to it? I can do that in comfort because I can say what I like, but I am very fussy about it being accurate. That’s one of the reasons why Jordan was an edgy rock ‘n’ roll team – I said what I felt like saying.
Why do you think Jordan was so popular?
In our case, Asia and Australia were particularly positive towards Jordan – and that was because they could see that the guy whose name was over the door was actually in the garage. You don’t see Mr Ferrari, you don’t see Mr McLaren, you don’t see Mr BMW, and you don’t see Mr Jaguar (pauses)... I think having an Irish team in Australia was a benefit. We sold more clothes and gear and swag than you could ever imagine. It was fantastic. It was the same in Japan. We were universally liked and one of the reasons was because the team had great passion.
Formula One is a lot less edgy now.
The odd time when I do talk shows, most of the Q&A will be, ‘We really miss you. You added that bit of flair and the belief that the common person could actually do Formula One. Now we look at Mercedes, BMW and Toyota – all of the big manufactures – and it’s a little bit soulless’. I don’t know whether that’s true or not, but it would be big-headed of me to say that I made a difference. That’s for the people to decide. I brought something different to Formula One that was quite fun, quite exciting, and quite sexy
What are you most proud of from your Formula One days?
I was very pleased that Jordan was able to win Grand Prixs. And is still one of only five teams in the last twenty-five years that has won multiple Grand Prixs. We didn’t make up the numbers – we did fight. We did find all those drivers and I did put a huge amount of drivers through our team into Formula One. That’s why I’m able to retire in peace and somewhat satisfied. As I said, Formula One has become too corporate. The teams are spending too much money. It has become virtually impossible to have, dare I say, a more casual rock ‘n’ roll image but yet be viciously competitive, which was all the things that Jordan stood for. It’s four years since Jordan was active. You’d listen to the Grand Prix a couple of years ago and it was just Michael Schumacher, Michael Schumacher. Now it’s either Ferrari or McLaren, so it is a little bit tedious.
How did it feel, flying the flag for Ireland in Formula One?
I remember going to the then Minister of Sport Charlie McCreevy back in ‘91 and saying, ‘I’ve got this great idea. There’s never really been a Formula One team before on an Irish licence; made and designed by Irish people’ – because the team was made up of Irish guys at the time. I gave him the idea. Ireland had been associated with agriculture – four legs, as distinct from four wheels, cattle or greyhounds or horses, or whatever. I said, ‘Here’s another alternative. It’s a different sport. It is a rich man’s sport but it covers the whole globe and there’s great opportunities to network and show that Ireland is part of a new breed – a technology breed’. And he quite liked the idea and he put Ireland on the car. The car was green at the time – it was a 7UP car. And Jordan finished 5th in the world championship in its very first year. It was fantastic and a great accolade for Charlie McCreevy who has gone on to bigger and better things. I was very proud to be Irish and very proud that I could be put in a position to try to steer people to understand why they should come to Ireland and invest.
There was a controversy once involving Jordan when the British national anthem was played instead of the Irish one at one of your victories.
One of the things that disappointed me most was in Spa ten years ago, winning a Grand Prix. They probably had no idea that I was going to win and they had no Irish national anthem. They said, ‘Look, we haven’t got the Irish national anthem’. So I told them to play the British one. People in Ireland were concerned. Some people criticised my decision. My decision was very clear – Irish people, particularly me, got such a great welcome in Britain. I don’t know any other country that a foreign person could pitch up in, be allowed to run a race team and allowed to conduct a business in an even and fair way. We had the Irish anthem at all the other Grand Prixs that we won, which was a big thrill. There’s nothing quite like being on the podium and seeing the (Irish) flag going up, having won a Grand Prix against the world’s best.
It’s not that typical to hear an Irishman praise the so-called ‘auld enemy’?
I have to say that England was good to me. They welcomed me. They made it easy for me. They didn’t put any barriers in my way because I was a foreigner. For that, I look back and think I was very lucky. I was in England during the Troubles and there were the bombings in London and Birmingham, when it could have been very difficult to have been Irish. There was no acrimony against me.
Did you ever have to pinch yourself over how you went from being a regular working-class Dubliner to being so extremely successful?
We are in this fancy hotel here now and when I was growing up I remember walking by the Shelbourne from Synge Street school and saying ‘Jesus, some day I’m going to stay in there’. And then ‘some day’ came. I was fortunate. I had a great upbringing. My parents strove very hard to make sure that I got a good education. And I didn’t want for anything. But yes, of course, you do have to pinch yourself.
Were you a bit of a rebel growing up?
Probably. Not to a big extreme. There are two or three things that loomed large in my mind – football, music and speed. And the only speed I could have was on a bicycle. I had the quickest bike in town. We used to have bike races around Orwell Park in the summer. You wouldn’t have enough money to have a bike with gears, so you’d have a fixed wheel, so that would be your break as well. So, I was aware of speed. I used to race a boat in Dun Laoghaire in a Frostbite series. Racing little dinghies is sensational because you can’t do anything about it – you are there at the mercy of the wind. You’ve got to find the wind, you’ve got to have the sails up the right way, and it’s a great discipline. I’ve often thought that it had a major effect on me when I finally got the chance to go motor racing.
You dropped out of college...
Yeah, college was never for me. I had a look and tried. I was always particularly gifted with numbers, so accountancy was the right thing for me to do, but I wanted to make money at the same time, so I joined the bank. And that gave me money. It gave me the opportunity to buy a car. In actual fact, it gave me the opportunity to go motor racing – because during the bank strike I was posted to Jersey. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to go to Jersey and earn the money and see that type of sport.
You were called Flash Jordan because of your style.
I was the first to have tartan bell bottoms. If there was a new piece of clothing out I’d have it. I used to drive my parents mad because I’d save, save, save until I bought this thing and I’d come back with it on and they’d be horrified. They would’ve loved to have me in a nice tweed jacket and a pair of grey trousers! In that sense, I was always a bit of a rebel. Jaysus, the way I dress! I don’t know of many 60-years-olds who go around in damaged jeans and a t-shirt. I couldn’t do it any other way. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable.
You were very much a wheeler dealer, almost like a Del Boy character, right?
I was addicted to wheeling and dealing – making deals happen. They used to call me ‘The Stroker’. And then when I wrote for Scene, myself and Dave Fanning were the only two contributors to the magazine and my name was Jordesh because, when I was working for the bank you weren’t allowed to have a second job. The only reason I did that was because I got to review all the new albums. I still have the shagging things all over the house. The other thing was you got a press pass.
What got you selling carpets in the Dandelion Market?
I liked trading. I was always a dealer. I used to get a load of carpets from the carpet centre. I’d get all the off-cuts and sell them on. You didn’t need to be Einstein. It was just graft. Some people would say, ‘God! It was hard work’. Other people would say that you’re a terrible chancer and others would say, ‘Good on you, you made some money’. And we did it honestly. It was fun becoming part of the folklore of the Dandelion. Rice’s on the corner was a fantastic pub; the Green Cinema was a classic. It was as cheap as chips... I’m sounding a bit nostalgic now, my kids would curl up and die because they hate this kind of talk (laughs).
I’m sure you must have been at the famous U2 gigs in the Dandelion Market?
Yeah, absolutely. I’m friendly with Bono and Edge and Larry. I hardly know Adam even though he did go out with Naomi [Campbell], who I do know very well because she was around motor racing for a long time. I still see her a lot. It is sensational what Bono and Ali are doing in the name of goodwill and charity for the Third World and Drop The Debt.
Was your motivation simply to be successful?
The one thing that seventy percent of people would say to me is, ‘I can’t believe your energy’. If that’s driven, then yes I have great drive. But I do have great energy. I was always an early bird. I can’t stay in bed. So, I’d be a six o’clock in the morning man. I do like to go to bed early. To this day I can only sleep five or six hours because I wake up and my mind is racing and all my best thoughts are in the middle of the night. From that point of view I’m the opposite to a rock person. They’d get up at midday at the earliest, and party to 4 am. I couldn’t operate like that. Sure, I can get to four – but I’d still be up by six the next day. I had – and still have luckily enough – a very active brain. I’ll come up with some great scams.
You play the drums and have been in a few bands yourself.
Music was a very important part of my life. Rock ‘n’ roll has given me a great outlet. I’ve always had a little band of some description. I was never a great drummer but I was a reasonable drummer and my tempo was always good, so that’s why I was able to play. Growing up in Bray, during the summer (pauses)... Fran O’Toole, God rest him. He was one of the guys who died, from the Miami Showband. Deke O’Brien. Paul Ashford is still around but I don’t know who he’s playing with at the moment. I grew up with those guys in Bray. They became the Chosen Few.
So did you gig a lot at that time back in Bray?
We used to play in a place called The Starlight Club and I was in the interval band. They don’t have interval bands anymore. Jaysus! The main band would come on and then they’d go out for a cup of tea and then the interval band would come on for fifteen minutes. They were great times. You have to learn, you have to understand what it’s like to get on the stage and talk to people, to play the wrong chords, to make a bollix of it. We fumbled our way through. The audience very often don’t actually hear it; it’s the musicians who are the hardest people on themselves. They’ll say, ‘Jesus! That was a shite gig’. People don’t know. All musicians are hyper-critical.
But it’s important for a band to be really tight...
I understand that it has to be really tight, but it doesn’t have to be so tight that it’s regimented. And that’s the attitude of my band. We can wander off and do all sorts of different things. And we try to enjoy it. I try to put into it the whole same thing that I liked about my racing and my life in general, which is that it’s got to be very, very competitive. But it’s got to have free spirit. If I make a fuck-up, I just cover it up and have a giggle about it on the stage and say to the people, ‘Listen, in case you didn’t notice we had a major screw-up there’. And it’s fun to say that because no other musicians do that.
How is the new band, Eddie and The Robbers, working out?
We have signed with Denis Desmond to do T In The Park. Glastonbury may be better known, but T In The Park is one of the premier concerts in Britain, if not the world. It’s huge. We are doing three nights there. We are doing four nights at the Isle of Wight Festival. We’re doing Monaco. We’re also doing a private party in the Game Park in South Africa. And we are doing a gig in Singapore. So, they are all very varied.
Describe the band’s music for me?
I don’t think you are going to find Eddie and The Robbers challenging someone like Stereophonics because they’ve got a great catalogue, but with Jordan you get something different – a bit of hardcore rock ‘n’ roll bordering on punk. That’s our style. Slight irreverence. Not far removed from the motor racing days (laughs). We like fun, we like irreverence, and we like to get up and rock. Most people find it hard to sit down when we’re playing. We try to inject a lot of energy and passion. All of the things that make up my character and the characters of the band. I talk to the people. Some people like to hear about motor racing and I can do that sort of thing.