Even David Bowie, the 20th century’s foremost figure of popular culture, had
to wait until he was 66 to receive a full blown retrospective of his career.
And that is through a temporary exhibition at someone else’s museum (Victoria
and Albert’s as it happens). Hamilton is 25. So far he has to his name 21 Formula
One wins and one world championship. Once it was premature
autobiographies, now it is precocious museums.
Yet, easy though it is to mock Hamilton (this is a man, after all, with a £20
million personal jet painted flame red, just in case he cannot identify it
on the runway) it is worth noting his explanation.
“It was my dad’s idea,” he said. “At the moment, all of my trophies are in his
loft. But we thought it would be cool to have somewhere for them, perhaps
with one of the cars for every year I have driven. There’s no point in
having them where no one can see them.”
The Museum (curator: L Hamilton Esq) will not, he insists, be a shrine to the
cult of Lewis Hamilton. It will rather be a place to park all his stuff. A
place, moreover, that anyone can visit and enjoy. Unlike that secretive Sebastian
Vettel, who keeps his memorabilia behind the electrified fences of
his gated mansion.
Where to put all that stuff is a problem that many a sportsman shares.
Steven Gerrard has a room at his place dedicated to his collection. In it is a
mannequin wearing Andrei Shevchenko’s Milan shirt, which Gerrard swapped
after the 2005 Champions League final. John Terry, meanwhile, had an
extension built at his home to house his gear.
Terry is not alone in decorating his home with memories of his finest moments.
Phil Neville has a pool table on which the baize bears an image of his
Everton shirt.
Paolo di Canio was recently photographed at his place in front of a giant oil
painting of him looking impassioned on the touchline. A footballer’s home
these days often patrols the fine line between taking pride in success and
rampant narcissism.
To be fair to Hamilton, he intends to make his place available to anyone who
wants to pay the entrance fee. Few outsiders, after all, have been round the
John Terry museum.
So no one knows if the boots he wore while taking a penalty in the Champions
League final shoot-out in Moscow in 2008 take pride of place among the
exhibits.
Mind, there are sportsmen who baulk at the very idea of showing off their
trophies. Ryan Giggs keeps all his medals in a drawer at his home (though
given he has won so many, they must surely be stored in several drawers).
The former Liverpool midfielder Jimmy Case is even more careless than the
Welshman. He has no idea of the whereabouts of his three European Cup
medals. His best guess is they are in a Tesco bag in his garage.
But without doubt the sportsman who has found the best solution about what to
do with his stuff is Haile Gebrselassie. The great distance runner is aware
of the significance of his two Olympic gold medals, so has donated them to
the church in Addis Ababa where he was married.
There they are kept in a safe. And visitors can examine them, indeed be
photographed with them round their necks, by the simple expedient of
offering a donation to the priest in charge.
Letting the public wear your medals while lining the pockets of the local
clergy: now that is a double whammy beyond any museum.