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 V8 Icon Dick Johnson.

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Joshy351
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Joshy351


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Age : 46
Location : Wide Bay Capricorn

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PostSubject: V8 Icon Dick Johnson.    V8 Icon Dick Johnson.  EmptyThu Oct 17, 2013 1:11 am

I ran my hand over Tru-Blu, the car that had delivered me my first Bathurst title. A rock had ruined her the year before the life-changing win, but thanks to the public and their donations, she was sitting there, reflecting the dying rays of sunlight, looking as though the boulder that had almost destroyed her and my career had never been, while the 30-kg rock sat in a cabinet three metres away.

I turned to Greens-Tuf: the car that had almost seen me killed. I slapped at the hard cold steel that had saved my life.

I then looked at the Sierras, those tricky and troublesome cars that eventually helped me secure two championship wins and a Bathurst title. The smell of grit and determination still clung to the seat's fabric, a strangely pleasant stench. They were covered in the growing gloom, the sun gone, the fluorescents not enough to cut through the dark.

The Mustangs and the 1994 Falcon that took me to my third Bathurst win were slowly disappearing into the creeping darkness. Bowe's championship charge and an assortment of other memories - some failures, some triumphs - were slowly consumed by the black.

I paced around them, nervous steps, my stomach tied in knots.

They had to go. I was broke and busted and left without a choice. I picked up the phone and agreed to sell them all for $1.1 million.

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Joshy351
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Joshy351


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PostSubject: Re: V8 Icon Dick Johnson.    V8 Icon Dick Johnson.  EmptyThu Oct 17, 2013 1:13 am

Now comes the part of the story where I lose nearly everything I own: my boat, my house, my factory, my famous cars and my health. My dignity. The sad tale of an ex-race car driver who lost $9.1m and was left in a long battle to save his beloved race team. It hurt then and it still hurts now. I can't wait for the pain to go away, but I suspect it won't. I'm sure it will eventually kill me.

It might floor you to know that I haven't drawn a wage from my business since 2008. Some people think I'm a rich racing legend, worth a fortune. But my wife and I have been living on a paltry sum - just enough to cover for food, petrol and bills. Sometimes I have something left over to fly Jillie to watch our son Steve race. My only income comes from the factory space I rent to the team. I have nothing else. I lost it all in a dodgy deal.

Today Tru-Blu and Greens-Tuf are priceless; the rest of the cars are worth at least $10 million, although no one can actually settle on their true value, 'shitloads' being the accepted amount.

I had mortgaged my house, my factory, my boat and had spent my entire savings - all I had left now were my cars.

I had to sell them. In order to keep my race team alive.

I can still remember the day the sparkling transporter came to pick them up. It was tough, but I didn't cry or kick stones, because the bloke I sold them to, David Bowden, agreed that I would always have access to my cars and be able to keep at least four in my museum. David is a tremendous bloke, who understands what these machines mean to me, sheepskin covers, cracked dashes and all.

I was an absolutely shattered and desperate man when I signed the paperwork. I couldn't believe it had come to this.

I was happily retired and things were going well. I had two cars racing and my son Steve was finally behind the wheel. As a driver, I was totally done. A lot of sportspeople regret the day they retire, struggling to deal with losing the adrenalin rush and reluctantly fading away from the burning bright light. Some spiral into a world of hurt and regret. My mate John Bowe was one of those. He was diagnosed with depression once he called it quits, and continues to deal with the illness to this very day. I had no such concerns.

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Joshy351
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Joshy351


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PostSubject: Re: V8 Icon Dick Johnson.    V8 Icon Dick Johnson.  EmptyThu Oct 17, 2013 1:16 am

After four decades behind the wheel, I was well and truly finished and never wanted to return, even though I was forced into a one-off cameo in 2000.

The first blow, a mere jab compared to the uppercuts that would follow, came in 2000 when I lost my good friend and general manager Wayne Cattach to V8 Supercars. Wayne was the best operator I had ever met. Appointed by Shell, he walked into my garage at Acacia Ridge one day, and I threw him the keys to the factory and my chequebook.

'It's all yours, mate,' I said on my way out. 'I'm off to the UK to buy some bits to make us go fast. You take care of the rest. Oh, and by the way, you need to hire a driver to race with us at Bathurst. See ya.'

Wayne was shocked. He didn't even know who drove for us, let alone who was on the market. But he was an extremely talented man, responsible for transforming my business into a V8 powerhouse. I was never one to live beyond my means and only spent what I had to; I never lived large. Wayne was the first person to think of my financial state, coming in and restructuring my business and life so that I could one day walk away and be able to survive.

With limited notice, Ross Palmer booted us from Acacia Ridge. I had been fortunate for so long to have had his backing, never having to worry about rent, since he'd allowed me to set up my race team workshop at his Brisbane-based plant. One day he decided he was no longer able to do this, and his executives asked me to leave. It was quite a shock and we could never work out what his reasons were. We later found out he was quite ill.

Wayne went about building me a factory that would not only be for my business, but gradually become my nest egg. He wanted to ensure I had some sort of financial security, constructing a state-of-the-art facility for my race team that the business would pay off and would also act as my superannuation fund should anything go wrong. With my blessing he built a $1.3 million V8 super factory at Stapylton, Brisbane. It wasn't only a workshop but a museum that was open to the public and housed all of my famous cars, the attraction of which brought in revenue.

He was the best operator in the business so it was no surprise when V8 Supercars came knocking and asked him to be the sport's CEO. It was a blow for me, but Wayne wasn't about to leave me high and dry. He went out and recruited his successor, Steve Horton.

Horton was with me for the next two years and was an extremely good business operator just as Wayne had promised. He was an accountant, a brilliant one at that, but had no background in motorsport. Horton was all about the bottom line and was more interested in making money than having the team win races. We suffered on track as a result, but our bank balance boomed. I had $4 million in the bank by 2002 and the factory was completely paid off, totally mine.

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PostSubject: Re: V8 Icon Dick Johnson.    V8 Icon Dick Johnson.  EmptyThu Oct 17, 2013 1:19 am

Westpoint

DJR announced Westpoint, a finance company from Western Australia, as our saviour on 8 February 2005. It was a last- minute $12 million four-year deal that was to ensure our survival until 2008.

Or that's what I thought.

I knew little of the business and was simply relieved to find a company, worth an estimated $1.7 billion, to back me for the next four years. I didn't care where the money had come from.

Boom!

Without warning the blast that would forever change my life went off on 5 December 2005. I was told that Westpoint was about to go bust and my four-year deal was gone, just ten months after entering it. Turns out Westpoint were raising mezzanine funds that constituted a Ponzi scheme; they were using investors' money to pay off their interest. In short, they were a fraudulent company ripping the shirts of people's backs. I had no idea. Westpoint went into receivership on 2 February

2006, with 3542 people losing their money in an absolute disaster of a company. I was ashamed to be involved with them when the full extent of their operations were revealed.

But for me, at the end of 2004, I was left with just a month to save my team.

That's when I was approached by two people with a solution that was never supposed to leave me in the lurch again.

'You've now had two sponsors pull out and leave you in the shit,' said the person that approached me. 'It's obvious you can't rely on something you yourself can't control to run your business. We need to set up a system that will help you service your race team without you having to worry about finding sponsors. We can use the cars to promote your business, not to support it.'

I asked them to explain. They told me that there was untold money to be made in the emerging mortgage-broking business, that I could be successful and big, even bigger than John Symond of Aussie Home Loans fame. I am not a complete fool, but I was utterly desperate. I knew we couldn't find a sponsor for the next year in such a short time and thought this was the only way forward. And although I didn't have to give them any cash, I did end up relinquishing 40 per cent of DJR for a promise and a dream.

Within ten days of losing Westpoint, I was signing papers that formed a new shelf company called Nanterre Pty, which would own FirstRock Mortgage Centre, V8 Telecom, DJR and ICCS (Inter Communications Connections Services). I was a

60 per cent shareholder in the new business. I had given away almost half my race team for a majority stake in two start-up ventures and a call centre that I knew nothing about.

It would later result in me losing $9.1 million. Before grabbing that pen and signing that contract, I'd owned a $2.1 million property, a $1.3 million factory, and I had $4 million in the DJR bank. I also had an expensive boat and two of the most famous and expensive race cars in the history of Australian motorsport: Tru-Blu, which I'd bought back in 1984, and Greens-Tuf.

I am now fighting to save my team and my house. The rest is lost.

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Joshy351
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PostSubject: Re: V8 Icon Dick Johnson.    V8 Icon Dick Johnson.  EmptyThu Oct 17, 2013 1:20 am

It hit the Fans

I was approached during the 2007 season and told how bad things had become.

A $1.1 million mortgage had been taken on my workshop, the V8 super factory Cattach had set up to be my super fund. Apparently I had signed the documents, but I honestly had no idea. The money had been put back into the business and was keeping us afloat - for now.

So in total, I'd already lost $4 million in savings, another

$1.1 million on my workshop and nest egg, and now all I had to offer was my house and my cars. I took out a $2.1 million mortgage on my house. That was a lifeline for the moment.

But what I had to do next almost killed me.

I had to sell the cars that had made my name. The sweat- stained and battle-worn beasts that had made me the man I am.

My life's work and my trophies

Looking back, I don't regret the decision because I had no choice. I had to compromise either my race cars - relics of my past - or my future. I had about 30 employees: my son one of them. If I hadn't sold the cars, all the people I loved would have been out on the street.

Nanterre Pty was in receivership and the creditors were demanding cash. I had to offer them everything I could, or my business would be done.

I've had many lows in my life, none more so than walking into a hotel to plead to a bunch of poor sods to take everything I had to give, my famous race team about to die.

Fitzy's Hotel

I drove to Fitzy's Hotel, near Logan, Brisbane on my own, steeling myself for the angry mob I was about to confront. I was utterly embarrassed with the amount I was going to offer them, but that was all I had.

On 8 March 2008, I met my creditors, who had the power to accept my offer, or reject it and kill off a race team that had been around for almost three decades. I walked into a makeshift boardroom, completely shitting myself. Only eight of the 50 or so creditors had turned up, but it was still enough to turn me white.

I sat at the table and the receiver introduced me and my plan, offering a minimal amount of return on the dollar. I was then asked to explain to the creditors what had happened with the failed enterprise and what I could do. Needless to say, they were pissed, asking 'How much?' and 'When will we get it?'. I told them what I had to give.

Thankfully they accepted.

It was damn right embarrassing. And completely terrifying. I felt like an absolute prick having to attend such a meeting, addressing these genuine, down-to-earth people who had trusted something I'd believed in myself.

And it made me sick.

I walked away from the ball-busting meeting with a debt of $4 million. I had lost everything and was at the mercy of the bank. I could have retired from the sport a rich man in

1999, but all I had now was a multi-million dollar debt.

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PostSubject: Re: V8 Icon Dick Johnson.    V8 Icon Dick Johnson.  EmptyThu Oct 17, 2013 1:22 am

I am 68 now and I look old beyond my years. I am not a healthy man, the reasons for which mostly stem back to that traumatic period of my life.

Since starting those companies, I couldn't sleep, let alone eat. I constantly felt sick in the guts. I never believed in stress; I thought it was a myth. But from that day I have battled through pulsating problems that have made me older than I seem. It's hard to truly understand stress until you've experienced it. Stomach tied in knots, it's completely draining and all consuming. I've been dealing with this feeling for years now and it never seems to go away. I was never a big drinker, but around that time I turned to the bottle to help me sleep and forget my troubles at night.

I suppose I haven't been well since 1990, all those years of driving also taking its toll. I have had nine operations for sinus-related problems, which in the last ten years of my career got so bad that a piece of cloth rag was sewn into my race gloves so I could wipe away the muck pouring from my eyes. At times I couldn't see. I'd burst an eardrum almost every time I'm in the air flying to races, muck flowing everywhere at its worst. The sinus also gave me crippling headaches to the point where sometimes I had to lie down in the truck, buried in complete darkness before I jumped behind the wheel. I was in utter agony, but it never once stopped me from racing.

I am now paying heavily for those accidents and countless laps in my motor racing career. I have a titanium knee and a titanium hip. I have been in and out of hospital for years, dealing with infections and surgeons having to go back in to clean them up. I have been told not to travel, and I shuffle instead of walk. But still, I haven't missed a race.

To this day, I walk with my fists up, readying myself for blows. Every day is a challenge, but I am up for the fight. I know I have aged, I know I'm not well, but I'm determined to continue despite all that's affecting me. My family has kept me strong throughout my trials and tribulations, especially during that traumatic time of my life when everything seemed to have been taken away from me. But amid this hellish period a little bundle of bliss arrived, making me realise what life was all about.

My grandson Jett was born in March 2005. He is arguably the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was in the deepest shit, feeling completely desperate, and when he came along he made that all go away. I'd sit with him in my arms, and Jett would make me forget about everything else, and I was alive again.

Family is the one thing that has been constant in my life, and young Jett gave me the will to fight on. He is my inspiration, as are Jillie, Steve, Kel, Lacy and my brothers and my sisters. As was Jillie's mum and her dad; my parents too. And, of course, all my mates and lifelong friends.

I also made a quiet promise to myself, one I hope I'll be able to keep. As I walked out of Fitzy's Hotel, I vowed to pay back all those poor people who had lost their money in the failed company. We're not talking millions, and under law I'm not obligated to do anything. But that's not my style. I can't sleep knowing that I caused problems for these people, and if I get back on my feet I will give them every cent back. I dream of the day I will be able to call them into a room and put the money down on the table and apologise. I would love to show them just how much their support meant to me and that I am indeed genuinely sorry.

There's still a long way to go. But where there is life, there is hope.

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PostSubject: Re: V8 Icon Dick Johnson.    V8 Icon Dick Johnson.  EmptySat Nov 01, 2014 1:52 am

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