A big telly.

Just watched Top Gear and the thing they did on the great Ayrton Senna took me back to the way my life was the day he died. Like many motor racing fans, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing the day he died. My life was so very different back then.

I lived I a dark dull bedsit smaller then most of the prison cells I've ever been in. My TV was one of then things that are also a radio and had a 6inch screen in black and White. Picture quality was, as you might expect, piss poor. Yet despite this, I would sit on the edge of my bed every two weeks and watch the Grand Prix.

I'd been a GP fan for years by then and remember clearly thinking this is not good when Senna crashed, but the idea he might die just never entered my head. How could it, the man was untouchable. But die he did. It's an odd thing that I found myself crying for the loss of someone I never knew. Why is it we do that?

That was a long time ago now and my life is nothing like it was back then, yet tonight I find tears again rolling down my face as I again remember the late, and in my opinion great Ayrton Senna. Right here, right now, I'm cool with that and my TV is a lot bigger and in HD.

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