Broadbent Rick - Barry Sheene: the official photographic celebration of the legendary motorcycle champion

Tired, exhausted and yet clearly elated after a hard-fought victory at Le Mans, scene of the 1979 French Grand Prix. Barry Sheene was to grace the Grand Prix podium on an impressive 52 occasions throughout his career.

FOREWORD BY FREDDIE SHEENE

Everyone has their own memories of Barry Sheene. To bike-racing fans he was a superb rider, twice World Champion and insightful TV commentator. His fellow riders appreciated having him around the paddock for his sense of humour and invaluable technical advice, while the general public loved the charmer, the iconic playboy who had an innate sense of fun. To me he was all of these, but he was also my hero and my dad.

Dad retired from racing and moved to Australias Gold Coast a few years before I was born, but bikes were always going to be part of our lives. He got his first bike at the age of five and I did, too. In fact, Id only just started at school when he allowed me to ride a little Yamaha PeeWee 50, the same one hed used as a pit bike throughout his racing career.

For a few years I rode that bike every day after school, but even though Dad was constantly tinkering about in the garage to make it faster for me, I eventually outgrew the 50cc. It was 15 or more years old, the plastics had never been changed and I was eager for something shinier and faster. However, Dad never handed us anything on a plate. Even if it was a few coins for the sweet shop, it would always involve a challenge or a test.

So Dad told me hed buy me a new bike when I showed him I could wheelie the whole length of the garden on my PeeWee. If youre familiar with that bike youll know its practically impossible to do this on a machine with so little power, but I really wanted that new bike, so I set about trying to lift the front wheel, jerking it up as hard as I could. After much practice I believed Id mastered it and called Dad down to prove I was up for the challenge.

As he stood watching, I readied myself for the great feat. Using a little rise in the ground, I pulled the front wheel up fiercely, but perhaps I was too desperate to succeed, because on my very first attempt I flipped the PeeWee, ripping the rear guard off, bending the handle bars back to the tank and breaking the throttle assembly. Dad, not unaccustomed to a messy crash himself, thought the whole thing was hilarious, but because I was so upset he went out and bought me my new bike. It was a Suzuki DS 80 my first big bike.

One of the most exciting moments of my childhood was the delivery of Dads new Agusta 109 helicopter, which he piloted himself. By this time I was a boarder at Geelong Grammar School in Melbourne. Dad picked me up from school and drove us to Melbourne airport. Together we flew the helicopter back up to the Gold Coast and he even let me take the controls as we flew 50 metres above the ocean or zig-zagged along the coastline. As a teenager, it was an incredible experience and although Dads illness meant he could not fly as much as he would have liked, we did make a memorable trip together to watch the MotoGP at Phillip Island, when Rossi went on to win the race.