“Mind how you go . . . ” Tai Woffinden’s house, the house that speedway built, is part building site. It is on 24 acres of flood plain, an easy commute to East Midlands and Birmingham airports. There are stables, currently empty but destined to be a business run by Faye, his wife of seven months. There’s the half-built wing where his in-laws will live. There’s a pair of frisky cats. There’s a bedroom destined for their baby girl who is due on November 19, by which time what he describes as a “s***hole” should be transformed into the sanctuary Woffinden has been seeking all his rollercoaster life.
“I’ve been doing it up myself, every rest day from 6am to 11pm so we could move in last month. It’s affected my speedway, but you’ve got to have a life, haven’t you?”
On Saturday, Woffinden, 27 next month, will make his only British appearance of 2017 at the Cardiff Grand Prix before 40,000 fans. The best British speedway rider of his generation, Woffinden is as maverick as the troubled Michael Lee and as imperious as Peter Collins. Cardiff marks the halfway point of the 2017 season and Woffinden is fifth. Now his home is habitable, his thoughts are returning to the day job.
“I’m concentrating now. Cardiff is special and, hands down, it’s the best grand prix. When I walk out there, it’s mind-blowing, but as far as the championship is concerned it’s just another chance to score points.”
With his lobe-stretching earrings, low-slung boxer shorts and a smorgasbord of tattoos, from the teardrop on his face, to DILLIGAF (the charming anacronym for Do I Look Like I Give A F***?) on his fingers, via the unfinished one of a Vietnamese boy lighting a cigarette during the war on his calf, Woffinden is the bad boy from central casting. The truth is more nuanced: he is engaging company, articulate and, for all that he bravely confesses to struggling with reading, fiercely bright.
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“I’m doing what I love, but when I come home there’s no discussion about speedway, no speedway on TV. I’m not interested in the sport: it’s what I do for a living.”
Speedway was always a constant in Woffinden’s life though. Tai’s father Rob rode for 13 British clubs and when the family moved to Australia shortly after Rob retired in 1994, Tai surfed in the week and rode bikes at weekends. After Woffinden was expelled from school, the family crossed the world to live in a caravan in Scunthorpe while he tried to secure a speedway ride. “We lived with my nan for the first year and on a travellers’ site for two more: rough, but character-building.”
By the time Rob was diagnosed with cancer in 2008, his son was riding hard and playing harder still. “Dad died in 2010 and I really struggled. I partied solid for three months and had a breakdown. Not being able to go any lower made me the man I am today. I go psycho when I drink, so I only drink one day a year. It’s like a horror movie.”
In 2013 he won his first world championship. In 2015, he became the first British rider to win two world championships since Peter Craven (1955 and 1962). Riders are permitted to ride in two countries. Woffinden plumped for Poland and Sweden over Britain.
“To stay at elite level, I have to race against elite riders. Britain isn’t elite. Why stay in Britain and get paid pennies? If you want dollar, you race in Poland, where speedway is the national sport, and Sweden.”
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As a result, Woffinden’s peripatetic week begins on Thursday evening when he flies to a grand prix for Friday practice. After the Saturday evening grand prix, he and his mechanics drive to Poland to race for WTS Wroclaw on Sunday. Monday he flies to Sweden, races for Masarna on Tuesdays and flies home on Wednesday. He pays for the mechanics himself and in a sport that is the ultimate meritocracy, the teams only pay per point scored. “If I score zero, I don’t get paid. If I get injured I have no income.”
That’s not fair.
“Life isn’t fair.”
The former Team GB captain refused to ride in this year’s World Cup. It all came to a head in a Danish kebab shop on the evening before the 2015 race-off.
“It’s so retarded it’s not even funny. It’s set up to fail and I don’t want any part of that. The Danes drove 45km to find good food. We went to a kebab shop and our guys were stuffing themselves with pizza while I had a salad. There’s no fitness camps, no dietician and no pre-season races.”
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Unsurpisingly, Woffinden has come up with a solution.
“Give me Team Great Britain. I will turn it into a profitable company. I’ll put all the money back into the sport and I will give it back after five years. In the fourth or fifth year, we will win the World Cup. I can make the sport massive. I’ve had discussions with lawyers, with accountants, with bankers and I’m absolutely ready to go. They’ve had a meeting. But I haven’t heard anything back . . . ”
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