“As a child, I would spend my time in the backyard kicking a football. I’d imagine myself as a football commentator, always scoring the decisive goal in the cup final and such. At other times, I would hop on my bike and pretend to be Murray Walker commentating during a Grand Prix. Whatever I was doing, I would always create a soundtrack for it.”
A voice transcends mere sound. It serves as a tool for communication, a vocal signature, a token of home. Nevertheless, for individuals like David Croft, their voice becomes their identity—it’s predominantly how they’re recognized by the world. From football to golf, boxing to auto racing, commentators dedicate their careers to refining their skills, molding their on-air identities into voices so distinctive that tuning in feels like welcoming your eccentric uncle into your living room.
That’s precisely what Croft, popularly known as “Crofty,” represents in the realm of contemporary Formula 1.
If you’ve ever tuned into F1—whether you’re a long-time enthusiast or a fresh follower—you know Croft’s distinct voice. You recognize the full range of his vocal prowess, the variations in tone and volume, and how they’re utilized throughout different phases of a race. Most importantly, you’re familiar with his legendary catchphrase: “It’s lights out and away we go!”
His voice greets you right after the introduction of the drivers and F1’s catchy opening theme, setting the stage for approximately two hours of twists, excitement, and occasionally, monotony. Whether it’s the thrilling Qatar GP from the prior weekend, the predictable Monaco race, or the unbelievable action of Abu Dhabi 2021, Crofty, alongside the stellar team from Sky Sports, packages each Grand Prix into a captivating, digestible segment of sports television that has set them at the top of their field.
However, this wasn’t always the scenario. While Crofty’s peers are celebrated former racing drivers, engineers, past team principals, and expert analysts, the 55-year-old Brit had no familial connection to motorsport, nor ties to the broadcasting sector, and more significantly, no straightforward route to pursue his aspiration of becoming a sports commentator. But much like another boy from Stevenage, a borough north of London, Crofty articulated his dreams early on, and despite repeated discouragement, he prevailed. (The other boy from Stevenage is, interestingly, seven-time F1 world champion Lewis Hamilton.)
“When I was around 9 or 10, I decided I wanted to become a sports commentator—it’s all I’ve ever wanted in my life because I admired the sports commentators of that time. Their passion for the sports and how they brought it to life captivated me as a young sports fan, making me focus intently and never remove my eyes from the screen or my ears from the radio. But how do you explain to your teachers that this is what you aspire to do?
“It’s a profession that many love, yet it’s not a common dream you discuss with a career advisor. There is no clear path to get there. I once had a teacher tell me it was unattainable, and that motivated me to prove them wrong, which ultimately led me to the BBC. My first manager at national radio also told me I couldn’t succeed as a presenter, so I challenged them, asking, ‘Have you heard me present?’ They admitted they hadn’t. I insisted, ‘In that case, perhaps you should listen to me and give me a chance.’ And eventually, they did, and here I am today, suggesting it worked out.”
I met Crofty in London earlier this year during a private function, and honestly, I didn’t recognize him initially since I had only heard him, not seen him. To my surprise, he greeted me by name (which was somewhat of an ego boost), and we began conversing as if we were old friends.
After a few exchanges on Instagram during the summer, he consented to meet for an extensive interview. The evolution of Crofty; the voice of F1; the man behind the well-known phrase at every F1 race start—such matters were on the table. Ultimately, our meeting turned into an over hour-long face-to-face discussion at the Mexico City Grand Prix in October.
What follows is a direct transcription of that discussion, organized into segments covering his early days as a budding radio commentator, his major TV job interview, his encounters with F1 giants like Bernie Ecclestone and Eddie Jordan, his participation in the F1 film and video games, and, lastly but not least, his enthralling narration of the closing laps of the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Oh, and a mention of Bruce Springsteen, who Crofty hailed as his all-time favorite artist.
Enjoy.
Securing the Position and Early Career
David Croft: When I auditioned for the role of Formula 1 commentator for the BBC in 2005, I had to create a commentary for just one lap. The opening lap at Monza.
I tapped into my inner Crofty as an eight-year-old who would ride his bike, kick his football, and dive right in. Nineteen others were vying for the Formula 1 position at the BBC, but I secured the job, which suggests I must’ve done well. The process was undoubtedly daunting because, despite being an F1 fan, until that moment, December 23, 2005, I hadn’t contemplated that this could turn into a career. Then I was offered the role, and I found myself asking Jason [producer], ‘What do I do now?’ His response was, ‘You need to understand F1. You must learn it quickly.’ So, I spent January binge-watching old races and then more recent Grands Prix. I had to revert to my sports fan mentality to determine what I’d want from a commentator, and then work to develop that skill.
Subsequently, when meeting drivers and conducting interviews, I thought, ‘I believed I knew a thing or two, but now I realize I know nothing.’ It takes an entire year to grasp just how little you know compared to people in the F1 paddock, a rather intimidating environment to navigate.
Jerry Perez: Which recollections from those early challenging days stand out?
One significant moment was interviewing Bernie Ecclestone during my first visit to Silverstone.
That must have been intimidating.
It certainly was. I said, “Bernie, what a beautiful day! The sun is shining, and there’s a packed crowd at Silverstone.” He replied, “Yes, people want to come for the last [GP at Silverstone], don’t they?” I asked, “Is this the last race at Silverstone?” He remarked, “Well, it might be. We will see.” He mentioned this because, at that moment, Damon Hill, as the BRDC president, was negotiating to retain the British Grand Prix [contract] at Silverstone, which he successfully did. Bernie was quite engaged in the negotiations, aware of the political angles to play. Nevertheless, Bernie was wonderful; you could ask him anything, and he was always enthusiastic about speaking with the media—he was the ringmaster. Without Bernie, we may not be where we are today.
Yet, it was the right time for Liberty [Media] to take the reins, transforming how people watch and engage with the sport. They’ve achieved remarkable progress. Earlier this year, I found myself speaking with Lewis Hamilton in Times Square, two boys from Stevenage gazing up at those colossal screens, while Brad Pitt appeared on each one of them. This was for F1 The Movie.
Being from the same town, I asked him, “Did you ever imagine we’d find ourselves in Times Square, looking up at a movie representing our sport and it being the most talked-about thing in New York at that moment?” It’s mind-blowing, and I cherish being part of it.
I adore your story with Hamilton.
You see, without Lewis, I wouldn’t have had a role in the film, which was generous of him to include me [and Martin Brundle]. I expressed my gratitude to him, as he informed the producers and the director that, for authenticity, they needed Crofty and Martin. The opportunity to collaborate with Joe Kosinski and Jerry Bruckheimer was phenomenal, and not only did I snap a selfie with Martin, Brad Pitt, on the red carpet in New York, but I also got to introduce my youngest son to Brad Pitt at the London premiere. So, if nothing else, this year I’ve truly opened my son’s eyes to the possibilities that lie ahead after he finishes his education.
That’s fantastic. As a father, I often take my children to races, introducing them to different people and showing them what’s possible. Sometimes, that’s all it takes to broaden their perspectives.
Lights Out and…
Your iconic phrase, what’s the backstory?
I was searching for a phrase to use at the beginning of a race that I could say instinctively while observing the start—something dramatic to get everyone pumped up. And that seemed to encapsulate the thrill perfectly. I thought, “Yes, lights out and away we go.”
Ben Edwards once noted that he had used it long before, but I’m unsure if that’s accurate. However, I’ve turned it into a well-known phrase, right? People link it to me now, which is wonderful, and they want me to shout it. It has genuinely resonated globally, which astonishes me.
I cherish it because it takes me back to those early days, thinking, “What do I desire from a commentator as a sports fan? I want an energized start, telling the unfolding story, keeping me on the edge of my seat, and filling in any gaps in understanding. You know, addressing the technical aspects while introducing drama, enthusiasm, and excitement—and not giving me a reason to switch off—this is our aim. People welcome us into their lives every time we go on air, and that’s a significant honor.
“Lights out and away we go” signifies the beginning of that invitation, akin to the opening chords of Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen. It’s my all-time favorite song. It invites you to consider what comes next, to embark on a journey. If you join me, I promise you’ll be amazed at what could unfold. That’s the message conveyed by the narrator in that song.
Life in the Commentary Booth
One intriguing aspect of your role is your and your team’s eloquence while narrating a real-time story unfolding before your eyes. There’s no script—certainly, you have notes—but you’re unaware of what will happen, and any misstep may reach millions globally. How do you navigate your personal opinions regarding the race or race control decisions?
I communicate with the visuals, which is why there isn’t a script. While commentary notes exist, a script does not. Even the introductory theme and track map for a race are entirely off-the-cuff.
I truly don’t know what I’ll say each time. I aim to be in the moment. Yet, technical glitches can freeze the visuals, and you must continue seamlessly; I’m not there to critique driving standards or a driver’s racing approach. I have experts like Martin Brundle, Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Jacques Villeneuve, Anthony Davidson, and Karun Chandhok at my side—they’re remarkably knowledgeable. While I have a reasonable grasp of strategy, Bernie Collins knows strategy better than I do. I collaborate with great experts and good friends. My role is to ask the right questions and dig deeper when the answers seem insufficient.
Based on our discussions with teams throughout the weekend, combined with our experiences from past races, Martin and I can dissect and discuss strategy and the critical moments, so we’re informed when events unfold.
For example, Ferrari’s and Charles Leclerc’s decision to switch to the soft tire in Austin didn’t surprise us because Ferrari had been considering this option and acknowledged it as a viable racing tire, while McLaren hadn’t. We utilize our experiences to narrate the events, not to predict outcomes, as that would be quite poor form. If we truly knew everything set to occur, I would likely have a substantial bet placed on the race, and we’d be having this conversation in my private villa in Playa del Carmen.
Additionally, “Jeopardy” is a crucial yet often neglected concept in sports commentary, as our first head of Sky Sports F1 reminded me, “Crofty, Jword Jword Jeopardy. Never forget the Jeopardy!” I reflected on this during the 2023 Monaco race when Fernando Alonso was on provisional pole. We were about to celebrate an Alonso pole for the first time since Germany 2012, with Max Verstappen trailing by a tenth through two sectors. I thought to myself, “Alonso is about to claim his first pole since 2012 unless Max pulls off the final sector of all sectors, and if anyone can do it, it’s Verstappen. He’s done it in the past and… he does it again!”
Paul remarked, “I could have dismissed it because that last sector in Monaco is short and he’s far behind. But you should never rule it out until it actually happens, or you risk looking foolish. Fans may think it was never going to occur, but you can’t know that until it happens. I don’t have the luxury of hindsight; as Murray Walker famously stated, ‘Anything can happen in Formula 1, and it often does.’”
Michael Masi Enters the Room
Have you experienced a more significant moment in your career than Abu Dhabi 2021?
I doubt any commentator will experience a bigger moment than that. It wasn’t merely that it concluded on the final lap of the last race; that’s happened before. It was the sheer way it unfolded and the ensuing controversy. During the race, my role was to provide an objective account of events.
Max still needed to overtake Lewis, and I’m pleased I maintained flexibility regarding where Max might initiate a move. By the time he reached the parabolica, it seemed unlikely that if he didn’t err, it would remain Lewis’ race. Therefore, I transitioned into summarizing and preparing for the moment the car crossed the finish line, akin to a skilled DJ introducing a new track, trying not to overlap the vocals as the fireworks erupted—and simply hoping I chose the appropriate words because, once again, there was no script and no reflections prior; it all existed in that moment, and what emerged from my mouth was spontaneous, aiming to be the best. Then, the fireworks exploded—on the circuit and in the paddock—creating a moment etched in the sport’s history.
I believe Martin and I executed a commendable job of wrapping it all up at that instant, and whatever opinions exist regarding the outcome are valid, as everyone is entitled to their stance. Yet, from a sporting perspective, it’s hard not to feel for Lewis Hamilton. He committed no error and should have rightfully become an eight-time world champion that evening because the rules were not strictly upheld. Max also did nothing wrong and rightfully became champion due to his team providing him with the necessary tires for an overtaking maneuver. The race director faltered, and such occurrences happen, right?
I’m not inclined to dwell excessively on this, nor am I trying to persuade anyone of any particular viewpoint as I’ve encountered numerous discussions regarding Abu Dhabi 2021. I always respond honestly: sometimes, before great pressure, the referee may err.
With teams wanting to race to the finish and not have a safety vehicle intervene, judgments must be made in real-time. Michael Masi was striving to cater to the teams’ desires, which, unfortunately, did not favor Mercedes and Lewis that evening. It proved difficult to accept. However, it optimistically worked well for Red Bull, and Max had an outstanding season until that point, despite it initially appearing as though he might not clinch the championship, which he did since referees are indeed human and can make mistakes.
For further details, refer to the FIA report; it encompasses everything that transpired. Of course, I’m certain several conspiracy theories will emerge from readers of this article, but that’s just how things play out.
Can you describe the atmosphere in the booth during that last lap? I was on my feet, shouting at the TV while I listened to your narration of the chaos unfolding on screen. I cannot fathom your level of composure since I’m sure you were equally bewildered. How do you manage your thoughts and maintain composure, reminding yourself that you’re speaking to millions and must keep it together?
To start, I don’t perceive that I’m addressing millions; I’m speaking to you, Jerry.
Thanks!
At times, I may be talking to someone knitting in their living room or having a chat with my wife, but my focus remains on engaging that single person as I speak with them. Although there are numerous millions resemblances worldwide, my aim is to connect with that one individual.
How do I maintain control? It’s a privilege to be invited into people’s lives. Recognizing that people choose to switch on their tablets, TVs, or any device to watch F1 and request my presence inspires me to provide them with the best experience possible, which certainly doesn’t involve ranting and raving during critical moments. There’s a realization that when the booth light is red, everyone hears you, so refrain from expressing anything you wouldn’t want to stand by once the microphone is switched off. Remaining composed while on air becomes second nature; that’s part of the job. I’ve never sworn; I’ve come close but haven’t.
In those moments, it’s about being commentator Crofty, if that makes sense. I’m not Crofty out at the pub with friends; I’m not Crofty at home with family; I’m commentator Crofty, concentrating on delivering something resonant to the audience.
And you’re not the sole individual who mentioned jumping up and down while watching the TV.
Oh, I completely understand.
Ross Brawn remarked to me, “In Abu Dhabi, I was leaping up and down, losing my cool in front of the television. I said, ‘Fantastic! If you were hyped, then everyone was hyped—that’s what we aim for here, Ross.’”
Years ago, if someone wanted to convey their satisfaction or displeasure regarding the work of a writer like me or a commentator like you, they would need to handwrite a letter, mail it, and hope it reached us. Nowadays, you can simply post it on social media, making it accessible to the entire world. Has this changed anything for you?
I remember the late, great Murray Walker, who served as a remarkable mentor and friend. He once shared that he believed he would struggle in today’s social media environment due to the instantaneous feedback received at all times. Hearing that really affected me because Murray wasn’t only the greatest commentator of all time, but also an exceptional human being. I cherish every moment spent with him.
Social media brings numerous advantages, and everyone holds the right to express their opinions. Freedom of expression is vital, and many lack that privilege, but we should all enjoy it. As human beings, we are all equal. Nevertheless, with this freedom comes a duty towards others. I constantly remind myself not to say anything I wouldn’t feel comfortable stating to someone’s face, regardless of the response I may receive. While there are comments I choose to overlook, as they aren’t particularly pleasant, that’s simply part of human nature.
I recall a tweet I received during my second race at Sky. Transitioning from radio to TV, I was still finding my footing, and it was a significant learning experience. I hope I was performing well! This tweet read, “Crofty, why not use the practice sessions to improve on being a little less bad?”
Just be kind to others.
The 500
You’ve covered a variety of sports, including darts. Is there an event or sport on your bucket list that you haven’t commentated on yet that could elevate your credentials?
I would love the opportunity to commentate at the Indy 500, truly.
As someone residing in Indy, I considered framing my question as: Is there an event on your commentator bucket list, and why is it the Indy 500? But I held back.
It certainly is the Indy 500; why not? I’ve been to Indianapolis, I’ve provided commentary there [F1], and I adore the Brickyard. It’s an incredible venue. I’d like to venture to Indy and share that story. It’s an exceptional event each year and presents an enjoyable diversion from delays returning home from Monaco, as it always coincides. So, rest assured, we are all tuned in.
I’ve already covered the Super Bowl; I provided commentary during the Super Bowl back in Miami in 2007—Bears versus Colts. I’ve tackled so many diverse events throughout the years, so the Indy 500 is now at the top of my list. Perhaps even curling at the Winter Olympics; it’s akin to tidying up or sweeping the house!
Eddie Jordan
“Eddie was an individual from whom you could never predict what you would receive in one conversation compared to the next, except you could be assured of fun, joy, depth, and something remarkable. Eddie was genuinely one-of-a-kind, and I adored him. When we both worked for the BBC, just before a [remote] interview—perhaps a sports panel or similar—my phone would ring minutes ahead, and it would be Eddie. “What? What are we chatting about?” he would query. “We’re discussing F1, Eddie; just express your thoughts!” In those scenarios, he was beloved by all for being the heartbeat of the paddock—the life of any event.
I’ve been on stage with him, addressing questions, where a query would arise, and 20 minutes later we would return to that same question, having diverged in discussion, yet he always entertained everyone with fantastic tales.
I recall a fantastic moment at Silverstone, where he was aware of Adrian Newey’s deal with Aston Martin [via Jordan], but couldn’t disclose it. I was backstage at Silverstone, chatting with Newey in my car when Eddie came around the corner, alerting Adrian with “Don’t engage with him, don’t speak to him. He’s a journalist; don’t talk to a journalist!”
I reassured, “No worries, Eddie; he hasn’t shared anything.” Eddie retorted, “Yes, keep it that way.” I then added, “Except that you’ve secured a substantial deal for him to sign with Aston Martin, is that accurate?” The truth was Adrian had informed me regarding the deal and its value, while Eddie feigned rage. He was a delight.
A Word of Advice
As you know, Crofty, English is my second language. I struggled significantly in school after moving to the U.S. as a kid and performed quite poorly in English class. It’s remarkable to see how my job now involves reading, writing, and comprehending the language. I’d argue the cliché “if you work hard and pursue your dreams” applies to both you and me, wouldn’t you say?
You must chase your dreams in life. The best advice I can offer is this: follow your aspirations, whatever they may be. If you dedicate yourself, strive diligently, and make sacrifices to reach your goals, then the sky is not the limit. Beyond the sky is where the limits lie. Nothing holds you back except your own will.
I consistently maintain this belief. I departed school with four O-Levels, the examination certificate received around 15, 16 years old, and one A-Level at roughly 18, but look at where I am today. I’ve managed to do quite well.
Certainly, if your goal is to become an F1 commentator, perhaps hold off for a bit. I aim to complete my run first.
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