It's not until page 358 of Allan Moffat's autobiography that the reason for his decades-long resentment towards Bob Jane becomes clear.
Never mind the hyped-up rivalry of Moffat and Brock during the 1970s and 80s, the real personality clash in touring cars was the rift between Moffat and Jane (with the occasional figurative punch thrown by Norm Beechey making it a three-way contest).
The spite between Moffat and Jane first became apparent during the improved production touring cars era, when Moffat was frequently competing directly in his Boss 302 Mustang against Jane's Chevy Camaro. Both played to win, but the incident that capped Moffat's abiding disdain was the one mentioned on page 358 of the book – when Jane refused to accept Moffat as the winner of a sports sedan event on the grounds that the Chevy Monza Moffat was driving should have been excluded from competing.
Moffat doesn't say so in as many words, but as a competitor in the same race, and the owner of Calder Park, the venue for the event, Jane completely ignored the obvious conflict of interest and withheld the $5000 prize money from Moffat. Moffat's response was to sue Jane for the prize money, and Jane in turn issued Supreme Court writs against the CAMS (Confederation of Australian Motor Sports) scrutineers who had passed the Monza.
In those days, as Moffat points out, CAMS was not an incorporated organisation, so the three scrutineers faced the uncertainty of costly legal action without the umbrella of the peak motor sport body to pay their expenses. And for what exactly? Because Jane's ego was hurt? Because he was placed in a position of paying Moffat prize money? And not for the first time either...
In the end the issue was apparently resolved, according to Moffat, by CAMS paying him the prize money and strong-arming Jane by threatening to withdraw the track licence for Calder.
In contrast, Moffat's relationship with Brock was much more cordial. The book – 'Allan Moffat, Climbing the Mountain' – paints a generally positive picture of Holden's most famous race driver, but doesn't discuss much of Brock's personal life, other than to praise his long-time partner Bev.
But anyway, this is a book about Moffat – and more particularly his 'working' life. He and his ghost writer (veteran journalist John Smailes) tread carefully around some aspects of Moffat's personal life. He freely mentions that his relationship with his father might have been better, but the breakdown of his first marriage after falling in love with the woman who was to become his second wife is distilled down to about three paragraphs.
It's left unsaid, but Moffat appears to remain on good terms with his first wife, Pauline. Readers can't be certain of that, however, because Moffat lavishes much more praise on some of his race cars (his Mustang in particular) than he does on either of his wives.
There's no doubt of his feelings (at different times) for the respective mothers of his two boys, but in this book, it's Moffat's competitors who are the fully drawn, three-dimensional characters that lend Moffat himself depth and perspective in context. The late Gregg Hansford is the person who earns Moffat's highest praise in the book, but the women in Moffat's life are cameo players at best.
The book has been carefully crafted by Smailes and is honest and open in some ways, guarded and tactful in others. But it's also a genuinely good read. It explains the evolution of touring car racing in Australia through the improved production/series production era, the expansion of the ATCC into a multi-race series, the adoption in Australia of the global Group A category and the eventual introduction of V8 Supercars.
Highlights include the 'Bradbury moment' win at Monza in a VL Commodore, after the six BMWs that placed ahead of the Holden were disqualified for weight-saving technical infringements – and the whistleblower was a BMW privateer!
The book is populated by a large cast of 'white hats' and 'black hats', mostly from among his race-track rivals, but quite a number too from the automotive industry and the world of corporate sponsorship. According to the book, the late Howard Marsden was someone Moffat tolerated rather than respected.
Sometimes the person in question straddles the divide, as in the case of Colin Bond – a man Moffat clearly admires and likes as a person. But the relationship between Moffat and Bond was placed in jeopardy by “connections” to Bond who demanded more of the prize money on his behalf for the iconic 'formation finish' at Bathurst in 1977.
Moffat's ego looms large right throughout the book, which actually reflects the subtlety of Smailes' work, and there's no denying the subject's drive and passion for motor sport. Moffat does occasionally admit to his own mistakes and infrequent regrets, which is to his credit. He is entitled to put the record straight on some historical matters, but naturally some who crossed his path during the 1960s and 70s may not remember those matters in quite the same way.
Still, it's Moffat's story to tell... and it's a story that appears to come as close to the unvarnished truth as any autobiography can.
Pictures courtesy of Vic Hughes and Graeme Ruckert, Wikimedia Commons