Many claim to be tough, but what exactly qualifies one to be called a ‘tough bastid’? Some say it’s how big you are or how fast you are, like for example, a 7ft tall Texan cowboy riding a raging bull and owns a V8 pick up truck? Or what about a super fast and agile Asian kung fu master that could punch through a slab of concrete and drives a multi-valve hi-tech racer? I don’t think its just any one of those. The Texan is tough, but falls short for his weakens for a cute dame and a good old barn dance, and your martial arts master equality comes up short as he is bound by honour and fighting is his last resort. For me, tough is born and bred and is switched on 24hrs a day and forms part
of the daily existence, so you either have it and others can tell it a mile away, or you just don’t have it at all no matter how hard you try. Scanning the globe, one finds a group that live, eat and breath tough and hardcore, its part of their daily existence and infact a day with out it, would actually kill them, I’m talking about the infamous British Hooligan. Seen at soccer games everywhere, draped in hoodies and baseball caps, and gold hanging from almost every appendage, they are unmistakably hard arse! No matter their size or shape, they live for ice cold weather, warm beers, foul language and a good fist fight two or three times a day. So what does a tattooed, skin headed, bruised knuckled madman drive? A Ford Sapphire RS Cosworth of course, as it’s defiantly not for sissies or the faint hearted.

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