RICHARD PORTER

After 22 years of writing this column, Porter recalls when it nearly got him sacked

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THERE ARE WORSE JOBS THAN BEING A CAR columnist. Every month you get given a blank space to fill with whatever you fancy as long as it's broadly on topic, and if you constantly think about cars to an extent that might be considered weirdly unhealthy or unhealthily weird, that's an honour and a joy. Whenever I pick up a mag, I always read the columns first. They're often a counterpoint to everything else within the covers, a place to talk about stuff that the rest of the magazine wouldn't mention, and that gives them a different personality. A good roster of columnists stands out in any magazine and plays a part in defining it.

Pretty much all of my favourite car writers have written a column, from the densely erudite prose of LJK Setright and the don't-mention-the-car food reviews of George Bishop, to the warm wit of Phil Llewellin and the tightly written brilliance of Russell Bulgin. Jeremy Clarkson was a car columnist. So was James May. Being a columnist is a bit like being the lead singer of a band, because to do a half-decent job you need to have a certain misplaced confidence that says 'PAY ATTENTION TO ME'. Once you've done that, you can't flinch in boldly sharing your stupid thoughts and opinions.