Defining a hero, role model, or legend is ─ of course ─ highly subjective. Yet they do exist, and the ones that have shaped my life for the better carry an enigmatic power; when I think of them, I experience a pang of emotion that both uplifts and humbles me. My late dad will always have this effect on me, and so will Gordon Kennett, who sadly passed away yesterday (12th September).
As a wide-eyed twelve-year-old my dad introduced me to Speedway at Oxford where Gordon was captain of the Rebels. Why I selected him as my boyhood hero I will never know, but in doing so I will be forever thankful that this choice taught me the value of persistence, patience, and pride ─ the hallmarks of Gordon’s illustrious speedway career.
He came of age as the undisputed leader of the White City Rebels who won the league with style in 1977, and although he may have forgotten the autograph he signed at Halifax for a shy kid ─ I never did.
I rode alongside him in spirit every time he took to the track on that incredible night at Wembley in 1978 when he was only a whisker away from becoming world champion, eventually finishing second to Ole Olsen, with the Ivan Mauger tussle remaining the stuff of conjecture and intrigue.
Decades later I saw Gordon at Eastbourne and summoned the courage to ask for a photograph with him, since talking to my hero was still the stuff of boyhood dreams.
Cheekily, I asked him about the coming together with Ivan; he simply smiled and said, “He fell.”
Although you’ve gone you are still alive in my heart and head, and you will always be my rousing Rebel.
RIP Gordon and thank you.
© Ian Kirke 2023 and all photographs.
@ianjkirke