Polarised: The real Brock

The TV mini-series Brock was no insider’s view. I was hardly an insider myself but close enough to the drama to find this portrayal inadequate.

Brock’s charisma was almost as crucial to his success as his talent, but the truth behind the charm has yet to make it to the small — or big — screen.

I was as excited to meet Peter Brock as any other car-crazed would-be racer. It was April 1984. Barry Lake, then editor of MOTOR magazine, had been promised an exclusive first drive of the HDT Opel Monza coupe and I was the freelance journo given the gig.

What a full-on experience it was, starting with hot laps at Calder Park – being driven by Peter Perfect, and driving – then my solo drive in the black Monza and a tour of the HDT factory.

But the day ended on an unhappy note. After showing me the turquoise fabric he had personally chosen for the forthcoming VK Group A, Brock asked me what I had thought of the Monza. I’d liked it very much but I mentioned wind noise as a minor failing.

His expansive mood vanished. He seized the keys and insisted I come for a drive with him. By this time the hesitant Melbourne weather had settled on rain. Brock pounded his dream coupe through the streets of North Melbourne at speeds upward of 100.

"What wind noise?" he demanded. "Where’s the wind noise?" I suggested that the rain made it impossible to hear.

Less than a fortnight later the May 1984 edition of rival Wheels hit the streets. The cover story was ‘Driving Brock’s 250km/h HDT Monza’. So much for our ‘exclusive’.

Although nothing came of Brock’s plan to produce the Monza with its HDT V8 and independent rear suspension, he continued on his winning way. His Formula Blue Commodore Group A was a huge hit.

By then I was editing a new magazine called Go Car. Brock chatted on the phone with his usual enthusiasm, our disagreement over the Monza either forgotten or ignored. "I just wish you could drive it," he said.

Then came his eighth victory at Mount Panorama on September 30, 1984. He nearly pulled off a miracle the following year against the might of the factory V12 Jaguars. And in 1986 he finished fourth behind Allan Grice and Graham Bailey in the Chickadee Commodore.

That night at the post-race party I brought up the subject of the Energy Polariser.

I failed to suspend my disbelief and argued with Bev Brock. To my surprise, no other journalist seemed to be willing to challenge either of the Brocks. Both seemed beyond criticism, goddess protecting god.

The General, however, was a bigger challenge than the media contingent. In February 1987 Holden announced it would not warrant cars fitted with the polariser or other non-approved items.

Later that month Brock, in a remarkable act of self-destruction, began to send out invitations to a black-tie function in Melbourne where he would launch HDT’s latest model, the gawkily body-kitted Director that now looks like a caricature car.

I was not invited. On my ‘Wright on Wheels’ radio program on Sydney station 2GB I had offered a frank assessment of the Energy Polariser, a small device about the size of a cigarette packet (25s back then) containing crystals and magnets.

Brock claimed that the polariser, provided it was fitted to a car’s bulkhead in a millimetre-perfect position, would re-align the molecules in the car to transform its dynamics. He issued this statement, defining the polariser:

"A high-technology energy device which creates a ‘polarised’ or ‘ordered’ molecular arrangement as distinct from the normal ‘random’ structure. This alters the characteristics of material and components in the vehicle."

I observed that it had no wires going into it and no wires coming out. I noted that Brock recommended running much lower tyre pressures when the polariser was fitted and wondered how long-term sponsor Bridgestone felt about high-performance cars being driven around with just 20psi in the tyres.

While many of the motoring journalists laughed about Brock, few went public. The most high-profile critic was the Sun-Herald’s Phil Scott, who had formerly been quite close to him. And brave Bill Tuckey published his book, The Rise and Fall of Peter Brock. We three were on Brock’s banned list.

Embarrassingly, some of our colleagues caught the polariser religion. I won’t name any.

It is widely thought that Holden’s issue with Brock was the polariser; it wasn’t. The infamous plastic box was a symptom of the broader problem, not the cause of the split.

Holden’s then director of sales and marketing, Rob McEniry, advised Brock that if he proceeded with his plan to launch the Director, his company would have no choice but to cut him loose.

The company had never even seen the vehicle. Did it comply with the exhaustive Australian Design Rules? (Certainly not.) How could Holden offer warranty on a car its engineers had not driven? (It couldn’t.)

Brock’s dark-eyed charisma could not distract the hard-working, intelligent executives of General-Motors-Holden’s from doing their duty.

Barry Lake attended the function and got Brock’s side of the story. There was no Energy Polariser on the vehicle, but the great man seemed to have lost the plot. Brock portrayed himself as a victim of nasty big business, a chameleon who had turned his back on lifelong friends.

Most difficult to explain is how Peter Brock could have taken such a risk when he was flying so high. All he had to do was play by the corporate rules. In his review of the one-off HDT Monza, Wheels editor, Peter Robinson, wrote:

"…the result confirms the growing realisation that in Brock we have a world standard car maker, capable of matching any individual from Stuttgart, Munich, Milan, Coventry or Detroit when it comes to the subtleties of building proper high performance machines."

Brock stuck to his guns; McEniry stuck to his. Rob McEniry, a good bloke, later told me what a painful experience it was.

Brock, for his part, just kept on his charming way and in 1990 HSV’s John Crennan approached him in the paddock at Mount Panorama and invited him back into the fold. By then the HDT business had been sold and HSV was doing Holden’s performance cars, but Brock was still at the forefront of Australian touring car racing.

He confounded his critics. Aussie Rules fans used to get upset when champion players switched teams. But Brock could get into the driving seat of a BMW or – heaven forfend! – a Ford and carry all his fans with him.

Brock was a poor businessman but a ruthless competitor. By 1995 and the last time I was to meet him, our paths had crossed several times. I was spending my own money to race production cars and before that street sedans in the NSW club competition.

At my very first meeting in August 1987 the wipers on my Alfetta stopped working. Not handy, I was unsure how to solve this problem. Brock was about 10 metres from me signing autographs for a crowd of 30 or more as I crossed the paddock. He saw me and called out a greeting; I was a long-lost friend. His mechanics would look at my car.

I raced against him at two 12-Hours, in 1992 at Mount Panorama and in 1995 at Eastern Creek. At the latter I was practising in my Citroën BX 16-Valve. Coming around the back of the circuit I found myself catching a Volvo, then tailing it through a few corners before it swam off down the straight.

It was Brock and I wondered why he was going so slowly. At the press conference I asked him whether he had a problem with his suspension. I was serious, but the question was ill-advised and he thought I was taking the mickey.

I should have realised that my nimble Citroën enjoyed an advantage over the big Volvo on the tighter parts of the track. The eyes did their famous black flashing act:

"I did a 50-flat, pal! What did you do?"

It was an unfortunate mistake on my part.

Brock’s death left me with mixed feelings about the man. But not about the politics. Loyal colleagues could not convince him of the errors of his thinking. One by one, mostly they left, hurt and perplexed, but the man continued to attract hosts of adoring fans.

It might not have been apparent from the mini-series bearing his name, but Brock was insane to allow the falling out with Holden to occur. And the Energy Polariser didn’t work. And neither do high-quality tyres running almost flat.