Former Stig Ben Collins reveals what it was like to be part of the Top Gear family and gives his verdict on the event that led to the end of an era

The story of Top Gear is so full of surprises and contradictions that nobody can be sure what will happen next. Born in the Seventies, it grew big hair in the Eighties, went into decline in the late-Nineties and was shut down in 2001. The show we now know was conceived by Jeremy Clarkson, executive producer Andy Wilman and a few good men in 2002. Five years later it had 350 million viewers in more than 170 countries.

During its time, it also won countless awards, not least an International Emmy for best unscripted show, which delighted script editor Richard Porter no end.

When you think if the global expeditions, innovative “technology” and audacious interstellar missions that it brought to the screen, you’d be forgiven for assuming that there was a Thunderbirds-style operations room at the hub of it all. But the truth, at least when I was part of the team, was quite different.

The furiously bright young boys and girls behind Top Gear worked in an office much like any other. Only the “loves us, hates us” board of car brands on the wall gave away their naughty secret. And the list of lovers was always comparatively short, with several companies about to transfer to the other side. Juggling these tender relationships required telephonic guile of a very high order to convince the automotive powers that be that it was still in their best interests to loan us a car.

These young producers were the show’s biggest fans as well as the engine room of its ideas, especially during the early years. Revving that engine, of course, were Clarkson and his close friend Wilman. Nothing aired without passing Wilman’s beady eye. He maintained a firm grip on the palette, always searching for colour, comedy and action, with the odd vehicle thrown in, too.