Lucky enough, over the years, to have been on the line with a few of the true greats including Noyce, Hudson and Thorpe.
I went to a DT training day in 92-ish, expected to meet a God in a Ferrari. Turned out he was a normal guy in a diesel VW Golf. He taught me more in a day than I ever learned in the rest of my racing career (and yes, I forgot most of it within the week).
At the Telford show last year my 9 year old son asked Joel Robert for an autograph. JR was amazed anyone so young even knew who he was. For 10 mins they chatted like old mates about some GP or other, one reliving his youth and the other turning a grainy DVD into living breathing reality.
Last year at the Farleigh VMXDN Georges Jobe gave an impassioned speech that made hairs stand up on my neck. A marquee of grown men. tears welling in their eyes. Next day I was watching a race when someone wiped out Shayne King. Exhausted, he couldn't start his Maico, so I jumped the fence to help. I couldn't start it either. Then the bikes owner arrived, did no better even after bumping it downthe hill. The piss-taking fromthe crowd was rampant. SK's reaction? - not a tantrum in sight, he thought it hilarious and began the long walk back to the pits.
My point? These guys are bikers. Decent blokes. No airs, no graces. Just a bit fast, thats all.
Can you imagine another sport where your life heroes are so accessible? Can you get a kick-about with Pele? Drink a beer with Schumacher? (though James Hunt would have...).
Justthink how privileged you are to be able to meet your old national or regional champs, have a barbie, share a cold one, go riding. You're privileged. Enjoy it every chance you get. This life is no dress rehearsal.