Joey & Robert

Robert Dunlop and his elder brother Joey shared a passion for speed that was to claim both their lives. In part two of our serialisation of JIMMY WALKER’s new book about the life of Robert Dunlop the author looks at the deep bonds and rivalry between the daredevil brothers
Joey Dunlop — the biggest name in motorcycle racing — was a hero whose death in a crash in Estonia in 2000 shocked the sporting world and brought motorcycling in Ireland shuddering to a halt.

More than 5,000 people were at Joey’s funeral in July 2000, and everyone secretly hoped we would never see its like again. But, tragically, Robert’s funeral followed eight years later, and again the fans turned out to pay their respects.

Robert and Joey Dunlop were two brothers who were set apart not just from the rest of the motorcycle travelling circus but from each other. That’s what made them great.

Joey was always glued to the bike and had little time for small talk, while at the other end of the spectrum Robert couldn’t talk enough.

Robert was an interviewer’s dream; but there were more than quips in his battery of one-liners. He had deep feelings, which he showed with this tribute to Joey he wrote after a trip to a remote place in the Republic where he took time to sort things out in his head and think about what his gifted brother had meant to him.

Entitled “The Joey I Knew,” Robert said: “Most people saw Joey for his brilliance on a motorcycle but to me he was just a brother, no different from my brother Jim but with a different personality and after all that’s what makes us what we are. Joey and I shared the same blood group but we always shared a similar passion for racing and this was what drove Joey on. I am grateful that he had this special passion and that is why he would never have stopped racing; it’s also the reason I can’t either. I am glad my father understands and recognises this, for it’s this passion that makes a man great. On that devastating day, Sunday 2 July when Joey was killed, Jim and I arrived at a small house in Union Street which we called home in the town of Ballymoney along with my four sisters to break the news about Joey. Mum was just coming home with her little dog after a walk when I met her just outside the front door. I couldn’t tell Mum—how could I? I just said, ‘I’ve a bit of bad news,’ and Mum replied heartily, ‘What’s wrong with you now?’ But it became devastatingly clear what was up as we entered the living room and she saw the looks on the faces of her family.

“I will never forget my mother’s weeping at the loss of her son. I wept for my mother that day for I was chilled to the bone. Joey was a very deep person at times but also a happy-go-lucky old-fashioned type who loved to laugh and fool with people. When I was a teenager I looked up to him as my big brother and I suppose I tried hard to impress him. Joey knew this so he would dare me to do anything and talk me into going first. Then he would have a good laugh when I would fall on my face. I miss the fun and the craic. I miss his stories of his adventures all over the world. I miss the great battles we had on the track but I do have my memories and they will go on forever. I can no longer look beside me in a race and see Joey’s helmet and his piercing eyes inside. I just talk to him now and I am sure he can still hear me.”

Louise Dunlop, Robert’s widow, recalls that Robert went into a monastic mood of silence for three weeks.
“He didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything,” she said. “He was just wrapped up in himself and thoughts of Joey. When I think back to those days and the way Robert handled Joey’s death I must say that he couldn’t have gone out and raced two days afterwards, as the case with his two sons following Robert’s death. But then everyone is made differently, and Robert especially would lose himself in deep thoughts.”

One of the people who helped Robert most in his racing career was Londonderry haulier Patsy O’Kane, who first met him in 1986 and became his long-time sponsor.

He saw first hand Robert’s loyalty to Joey.

It was Patsy O’Kane who paid for the famously accident prone Robert’s surgery bills and for the operations on his injured hands.

“In many ways he was a substitute for the son I never had. For his part, Robert never forgot what I had done and the good days we had together, and every Christmas he brought a bunch a flowers and a card for my wife, Jean. We have no family, and we regarded Robert as one of our own.”

Patsy, who misses him badly, said: “In my book he was one of the biggest riders Ireland ever produced, for he was able to win on the roads as well as circuits, and this put him one up on Joey. There are some who would say that Joey and Robert didn’t get along, but this is nonsense. I remember one occasion—it was the night before the NW200—and Joey had problems starting the bike. The time was 3am, and I told Robert that as Joey had Japanese mechanics over here helping him it was up to them to sort out Joey’s problems. But Robert said to me, ‘I think I’ve sussed out what’s wrong with Joey’s bike, and I’d like to tell him.’ I asked why he would bother. Let him get on with it. But Robert wasn’t happy, and I know he went to Joey and helped get his bike sorted out for the big race. That was the sort of him. He was always going to do a good turn if he could do so.”

One of the Dunlop brothers’ closest friends in racing was Englishman Barry Symmons, who made his home in Belfast and became of one of the racing world’s most influential figures.

Symmons signed Joey Dunlop for the Honda team in 1980 and guided him during the years when he won five Formula 1 World Championships.

He recalls Joey tipping him about off about his younger brother and forecasting he would become a rival.

Said Symmons: “I remember first meeting Robert when we were looking after Joey. I went to Robert and Joey’s house and watched Joey and Robert ride up and down outside. This was common practice in those days at the little village which was the fulcrum of the Armoy Armada. Joey was working on a new 125cc Honda and he told me about Robert. Joey said, ‘He’s good. You’d better believe it. He might even beat me and give me a hard time.’”

After being headhunted by the Norton team Symmons signed up Robert Dunlop in 1990.

“I think he was greater than Joey,” said Symmons. “What he did was come to terms with short-circuit racing when he won the British Championship in 1991. Joey also rode at times in the British title race, but he was never able to get on top of things in this sphere — in fact Joey for us was simply there for the TT. Robert was a different kettle of fish, and I believe he could have gone on to be World GP Champion (had it not been for a terrible accident at the 1994 Isle of Man TT).

When Robert first signed for Norton he was seeing more of the inside of hospitals than he was of winners’ enclosures.

“Robert, however, said to us not to worry and that he wouldn’t let the Norton get the better of him again, and he never did. Robert was an amazing sight clinging to the big Norton. He won the NW200 for us in 1990, when he had a double, and he went from strength to strength after that. His secret was his complete control of nerves. Some competitors override, but Robert preferred a laidback attitude, which showed him to be an intelligent rider as well as one who was very brave.”

There have always been arguments about who was the better, Joey or Robert. Barry Symmons has given his view impartially, but at the end of the day it comes down to opinion.

The battle of the brothers at the Ulster GP in 1990 in many ways silenced a lot of sceptics, who said that Joey was finished after his big accident at Brands Hatch in 1989. Robert was on the Norton and Joey on the Honda in the race of aces, as it was later called.

The race ended, to the delight of the thousands who lined Dundrod, with Joey crossing the line, clenched fist in the air, with 19 seconds to spare.

It all revolved around a pit stop. In those days a rider was likely to have to make a refuel at some stage, because of the length of the race, and, needless to say, everyone expected Joey and Robert to do the same. As it turned out, however, while Robert made his pit stop on the Norton, Joey blasted through on the Honda, to the intense excitement of the packed stands.

In 2003 Robert recalled the epic race and sang his elder brother’s praises. “Joey was a bit emotional about that one,” he said. “Road racing is hard to perfect, but Joey had it down to a fine art. He just pulled so much ground on me from Ireland’s to Wheelers. So I thought, I can’t have this. I passed him again going into the hairpin and stayed in front until the end of the lap, when I had to come in to refuel. I didn’t know he could do the distance without refuelling, and I’m sure I could have held him on the straight, because my bike was faster than his, but he would probably have passed me by the time we got to Budore.

“I always admired Joey for that one. People said to me afterwards I would have beaten him if I hadn’t had to refuel, but I don’t honestly believe I would.”

But Robert enjoyed getting one up on his brother too.

Liam Beckett, former Ballymoney soccer star and later coach, tells some wonderful stories about Dunlop during the 20 years when Dunlop and Beckett were high rollers on the road-racing and short-circuit scene.

In 1989 the pair hit the jackpot when Dunlop won the Macau Grand Prix.

Beckett recalls the the after-race presentation, when Robert had won and was so delighted he showed the trophy to everyone and said: “This is the one race which Joey has never won. I’m one up on him now.”