Maestro: the Reg Harris Story

Video: 78 minutes, BVE0217, £19.99. DVD: 93 minutes, BVE0218, £22.99. From Bromley Video, Unit 15A, Henley Park, Normandy, Guildford GU3 2AF. Tel: 01483-234300 E-mail: orders@bromleyvideo.com

Every so often the regular cycling press publishes one of those ‘100 greatest British cyclists' articles. They're nearly all professional roadmen. Few track riders get a look in, so they rarely include the one rider who for two generations of Britons actually became a genuine household name. Millions of people must have stood at the roadside and shouted after anyone on a bike, even the paper-boy, ‘Come on, Reg Harris!'

It's true that he benefited from the post-war track racing boom (very little racing on open roads in Britain) and Britain's need for gloom-lifting, feel-good success. But his character, personality and courage, combined with a wish to earn his living as a professional cyclist, had a lot to do with his being voted Sportsman of the Year twice. Odd that the decline of track racing coincided almost exactly with his retirement – and, of course, the introduction of the Mini. Motorised commuters became increasingly distanced from racers and the spectators melted away.

I met Harris twice, the second time at a cycling club dinner where we talked for an hour. He had great charm and a very clear idea of his own talent which could in no way be confused with vanity or arrogance. He knew exactly how good he was.

It's a pity that, like most of his generation, he would be known to the public largely through printed paper and newsreels, few of which have apparently survived. The first half of Bromley's video includes two showings of his destruction of Van Vliet and Derksen in the Grand Prix of Amsterdam. Dennis Wright builds up Reg's old frame, and Roger St Pierre provides accurate and lively background. Sprinting in Harris's heyday was different: the 400-metre-plus concrete tracks demanded a different style of track craft from that required in a 250-metre indoor velodrome. As the Amsterdam film shows, it really was radically different. But while Bromley have clearly done their best, there's not as much footage of Reg in action as you'd like.

Fortunate, therefore, that Barry Davies interviewed a 65-year-old Reg in for the BBC in 1985. Davies is rather good, Harris is excellent, and the programme is interspersed with footage of the fifties and colour film of Reg's amazing 1974-75 comeback, which did cycling no end of good. It's sad that none of the cyclists on today's roads will ever hear anyone call out, ‘Who do you think you are? Chris Hoy?'

The DVD offers additional menu access to each section of the programme. Too late for Christmas, but a great present at any time.

Ramin Minovi