Filmer (UKBMX & NBMXA) Michael Watkins.

You might be familiar with the name Watkins — Michael Watkins was the father of mid-80s British, European, and World Champion Mark “Whoppa” Watkins, who rode for Halfords, MRD, and later Thruster. Michael is one of those unsung heroes of British BMX who spent countless hours at the races, often standing in the middle of the track with his cameras, recording and documenting the action. He would then transfer the footage to Betamax and VHS tapes during the 1980s, making them available to anyone who wanted a copy of the latest Regional or National event.

Last year, Michael generously donated all his Beta and VHS recorders, along with close to 100 tapes. We’ve finally digitized the collection and have begun uploading it to our British BMX Hall of Fame YouTube Channel. A huge thanks to Mike — it only makes sense to give a little more background on him and show the appreciation he truly deserves. Like many other dedicated parents who took the time to film and preserve our sport, his efforts allow us to relive those incredible moments even today.

BMX Race Filmer (UKBMX & NBMXA) Michael Watkins

Discovering BMX was a short process. Mark (Whoppa) started off with a chopped-down head tube on a ladies’ shopping bike, converted with BMX forks and handlebars, which didn’t last long as there was a cycle shop on the way to school. Things started to get serious, and he finished up with a Diamondback. The young shop owner took him to a meeting at Redditch Open, where he came 3rd—not bad for a first timer. Needless to say, there were concerns that he was riding in the wrong age group, so with my presence and his birth certificate, things settled down.

After much enthusiasm from my little boy Mark, I took him to his next meetings. I could see he was having fun and seemed to do well. That’s when I became sucked in, including going into the Bridgnorth branch of WH Smiths to check if the new magazines had arrived. (As you can imagine, he was not happy with the bike as it was, but couldn’t possibly race without certain pedals, brake systems, trainers, grips, etc. Ha! Ha!)

At this time, I had two jobs, working 18 hour days at times! I then had to turn my life upside down so I could take him to one or two meetings, including Wordsley Club, which ran meetings on Wednesday evenings. That then developed into me taking a couple of local lads along. I bought a minibus and borrowed a double motorbike trailer to carry the bikes on. Eventually, I ended up taking twelve to fourteen riders (illegal nowadays). Great fun listening to the banter and seeing their enthusiasm.

(Mark and Ange called me “Kins” more than Dad. When taking all these riders out every week, being a bit old school, I wasn’t going to have youngsters calling me Michael or Mike, and Mr. Watkins was a bit of a mouthful. It was decided I would be Mr. Kins, as Lee Benton will verify.)

Because of the enthusiasm of the local riders, we also formed a local BMX club. We were even offered a small plot of land and the free use of a digger and driver. We did a lot of fundraising along with other parents, but unfortunately, and disappointingly, it did not take off. The money raised by ourselves was eventually donated to the Air Ambulance.

I worked for BSD as a Chef Manager for the Main Board, whose offices and boardroom were at a flat-rolled unit at Wombourne. By chance, it had a maintenance and garage department. They made the wooden quarter-pipe out of wood normally used for carrying steel coils on the lorries, and a rack to fit a tow bar for the Granada I was driving at the time to carry the bikes (sometimes well-laden, as Chris Taylor and his dad would come with us to some of the meetings).

All this in less than a year—absolutely amazing.
All the above facts are right, but not necessarily in the correct order!

It was Darren Stock who pointed Whoppa out to Steve Wilson. Steve kept an eye on him through that meeting and seemed to make a decision quite quickly. Being on the Halfords team proved to be a fantastic privilege and was very much appreciated.

Being part of the prestigious Halfords team was a big surprise for both of us. Even more amazing was the rate of success that Mark had, just enjoying what he was doing. Being on the team involved not just basics like gear travel and such, but also gym once a week (which I also took advantage of). Also, the camaraderie and support within the team and from associates were fantastic.

How and When Did I Start Videoing?

Like many parents, I used to take stills of the races (unfortunately, I was into slides at that time). I then obtained an old basic video camera.

The first meeting I recall going fully armed with extra tapes and extra power was at Derby Stadium at the 1983 British Championships. I videoed from upstairs, opposite the main stands, giving me a full view of the start gate behind glass (not sure if the windows opened), which seemed like a good idea at the time. Oh no, it wasn’t. The commentary heard by my ears was not the same, and the camera was awful and distorted, but I learned my lesson.

I continued to video, mostly around Mark’s age group and some of the older riders. As I continued to film, some parents would come up to me and ask if I had a particular moto or race. After only a couple of requests, I thought, “I might as well do requests, as I’m standing here watching most of the time…”

I used to go and talk to Mark between his races, which didn’t seem as important once he joined Halfords. I bought a new modern camera, which had a panel on the left-hand side where I could feed graphics onto the recordings, enabling me to keep track of what I was filming. I would record all the odd motos and then the events. The third moto was hit and miss, so every rider would see themselves no matter how far they progressed. Then, I would record all the rest, even 1/8ths, which did happen at some of the bigger meetings.

I asked one of the marshals if I could film from inside the track. He spoke with Ron, and Ron said no problem as long as I didn’t interrupt the procedure. I started taking shots of the moto sheets to help with editing. I then asked if it was possible to have the discarded sheets, and life became easier. It’s a shame that these deteriorated so much in storage—they would have been golden material with a lot of forgotten names and motos that would have been like a final.

I then got a bit cheeky and asked if there was room on the bigger commentary platforms to stand in a corner and film. This was quite successful. The powers that be started thinking of me at some meetings and began putting up a platform for me, which was brilliant.

Then my Monday evenings (more often than not my only evening at home) were spent in a small room, sitting in front of three video machines, a video enhancer, a TV screen, and a load of moto sheets, editing the weekend’s meeting, as some were run over more than one day. It was quite complicated at times, but in a good way, building the continued selected single age group to the one-offs.

As some parents requested, I did the whole season of a particular age group, irrespective of any outcome. There were quite a lot of repeat requests on a regular basis, so I was kept busy just trying to keep a record of all of them. The need was for me to do them ASAP so they could be ready for the next meeting, all of which, at its prime, were very popular.

I only charged for the tape (99% VHS) and P&P, plus a couple of pounds, which I gave to the NBMXA Track team at the end of the season, contributing toward platforms and such at the races.

I continued this until Mark stopped racing. At the time, he was working as a baker (bread, etc.), which meant starting before midnight on Fridays and finishing around 8:00 AM. Depending on travel, he would either go to bed for a couple of hours, then travel to the meeting, or if I was driving, he would most often doze off while traveling, listening to The Smiths (wow, besides if I tried to turn the sound down! Ha! Ha!)

There are one or two standout moments: Firstly, involving Mark “Whoppa” Watkins (thank you, Tony Hoffman) when he broke the track record at Derby (pre-Halfords), racing a No. 1 rider an age group above (Gary O’Connor). Someone gave me three photos of the start gate, finish, and aftermath.

Racing for Halfords, especially when they used his Euro and World Champ pictures in their advertising… When Mark stood at Cocksmore near the finish line, signing the handout pictures for the youngsters (well out of his comfort zone, he was alright when he had his helmet on)… When he won the free flight at the Derby Classic… When the seat post broke at Whitehaven, he ended up in hospital, getting stitches on his inside thigh just before flying to Japan (big worry about infection).

For me, here’s an edited sample of my memories, not in any particular order:

Spending time at Pontins with Young Tim and Andy… Then traveling across the North to Middlesbrough for a National, and the bus blowing a cylinder, getting brought home on the back of an AA wagon, and getting home at 4:30, then off to work at 7:30

Videoing at Chorley (as I remember, one of the first tracks to use tarmac—a lot of rumbling because of that). Me standing up high and a horrendous amount of shouting from below. People arguing about the outcome of the race, and in the middle of all this, a small person shouting the loudest

Standing on the top of a three-level tower at Farnham, with no crossbars, just four uprights in the corners. Getting all the equipment, including a car battery to power the recorder and camera, up ladders, then passing it to the top level, was quite a challenge (the view was great)

The tower that was erected at the British Championships at the far end of the track from the start gate with a cover as well as a chair—brilliant

Traveling to Bercy, Paris—organizing accommodations and driving around the city—was an experience in itself. Satnav wasn’t an option in the early ’80s, so as an AA member, they sent a printout of the route, which was incredibly useful. The atmosphere in the stadium was completely different… The drive home, with a sleepy Mark and other riders, their bikes crammed into a very warm minibus, and the compulsory Smiths playing, was memorable—nearly falling asleep on the M25 after a long and exhausting weekend, finally forced to take a break at the first services. All good fun.

One low point was at the Oxford National the weekend after the Worlds. When the line marshal didn’t step out of Mark’s outside lane quickly enough, a parent asked if they should go down and support him. I said, “No, he’ll be okay.” WRONG! Dale may well find this when going through the tapes.

Videoing at Whistler was great fun. Those lucky enough to be there will remember the sheer drop just beyond the high fencing at the first berm. I stood next to a TV crew, who were fantastic—offering me power if needed and plenty of encouragement.

After Mark and I finished, I still picked up the mags for a while, but I was disappointed not to be involved anymore. Ironically, one of the top records at the time was Kate Bush’s Don’t Give Up, which still resonates with me today.

It was always amazing to see the excitement of riders and parents celebrating their achievements, and the way the entire crowd supported all the racing. The atmosphere at Derby was always electric.

The early days were truly brilliant—some of it a blur, carried along by the momentum and riding the crest of a wave.

I would like to thank BMX for giving me an interest outside the kitchen—and what an interest it has been!

Now that I’ve finished writing these memories, I know I’ll think of a thousand more…