Eddie Jordan might be gone, but he's still the inspiration for F1 dreamers

To create a team that would produce beautiful cars like the 191 would have been romantic enough, but for many of those cars to be competitive was another thing entirely.

Over the past few days you’ve probably heard and read countless stories of the man that Eddie Jordan was, and the many achievements he racked up during such a colourful life. Many of those have included personal anecdotes of time spent with EJ, of special moments shared or quips from the inimitable Irishman, and part of me is jealous as I admit I can’t add to those.

But that’s not for negative reasons, just the fact that most of his more influential time within the paddock came before I was fortunate enough to work in the sport. And it doesn’t mean he didn’t have a significant impact on my love for both F1 and what I now do.

I watched Jordan Grand Prix as a child just getting into Formula 1, and was captivated by both the chaotic first victory at Spa-Francorchamps but also the fairytale that was threatening to unfold during the 1999 season when Heinz-Harald Frentzen emerged as a true drivers’ championship contender.

Seeing those striking yellow cars mixing it with the big boys was a proper underdog story that is so attractive regardless of the sport you follow, making you believe that hard work and passion for what you do can carry you to the very top, even without the resources of others.

And that’s one of the things that made EJ such a magic figure. He was someone who had risen through the motor sport ranks and built his team up to make the steps from F3 to F3000 and then F1, and made it work. And done so by remaining this larger than life character who was a major presence even in the highly political world of grand prix racing.

He had done it exactly as you would have wanted to do it. And perhaps that was also why it was so painful to see the team change hands and take on new identities after 2005, as ever-bigger money was needed to survive. It’s something former Jordan commercial director Ian Phillips alluded to when the sale went through, recalling how EJ was crying in his office calling himself a failure on the day the deal was signed.

Yet he was anything but a failure. Not only had he owned and run his own F1 team, he was friends with rock stars and a handy drummer himself, and then reinvented himself as one of the most watchable television pundits going.

Well, reinvented might be a stretch, because he was true to himself in that role, too. He was blunt, unafraid of saying what he thought to anyone, and trusting in his gift of the gab to get him both in trouble and then out of it again.

And watchable might have related to how entertaining his appearances on TV could be, but he was very readable too in the way he played such a major role in breaking big stories. Leaning on his extensive contacts within the sport, news of Michael Schumacher’s return to F1 with Mercedes only started gathering serious pace in late 2009 when Eddie spoke on it.

By now, as the childhood fantasy of owning an F1 team might have faded, the slightly more realistic aim of becoming a motor sport journalist was on my radar and those were exactly the kind of stories that you would dream of uncovering. Even then EJ could provide an example to aspire to.

And then from my very first foray into the paddock, you could see he was someone who was just so central to so much. Conversations involving him were always extremely animated – for better or for worse – and his mere presence would ensure a heightened level of energy to almost any situation.

Jealousy is a word that can often be taken negatively, but it’s all positive when it comes to Jordan. He created an F1 team in a way that so many would love to do, and then remained a highly-respected, admired and entertaining figure when he moved into the media.

To do just one of those things would be a dream, to do both is a level above. And while F1 might be a poorer place for his passing, his inspirational achievements don’t leave with him.