Only now the supercars have been replaced with tractors, the racetrack has become a paddock and instead of debating lap times, he\u2019s trying to work out why the British Government has decided farmers are a cash cow ready for milking. Throw in a healthy dose of weather chat and you\u2019ve pretty much got the formula.<\/p>\n
And just like every season before it, it reminds viewers of one simple truth.<\/p>\n
Farming is hard. Bloody hard.<\/p>\n
Which can be eye-opening, because from the outside it can look a pretty sweet gig. Driving tractors that cost more than the average first home, working outdoors, the odd crop circle for entertainment and some Red Band tan lines.<\/p>\n
The reality, as the programme reminds us, is somewhat different.<\/p>\n
Farming is a business where your biggest business partner is the weather. Unfortunately, it\u2019s the sort of business partner you simply can\u2019t rely on. The kind that steals the office petty cash, runs off with the receptionist and eats the sandwich you very clearly labelled with your name in the staffroom fridge.<\/p>\n
And when you think the weather is your only nemesis, somebody reminds you there\u2019s still commodity prices, regulations, machinery breakdowns and about 47 other things waiting patiently to ruin your week.<\/p>\n
So, like Clarkson, why not add pub ownership into the mix?<\/p>\n
Now I\u2019ll admit, owning a country pub has always seemed like one of those wonderfully romantic ideas. You picture polished wooden bars, and locals solving the world\u2019s problems over a quiet pint.<\/p>\n
The reality, of course, is staff shortages, suppliers, compliance, loo flows, margins, renovations and discovering that running a successful pub requires considerably more than pulling the occasional pint.<\/p>\n
Personally, I think Clarkson slightly overcomplicated things. The formula for a great country pub is actually pretty simple.<\/p>\n
Wedges that arrive with sour cream as standard, because charging extra for sour cream should be a matter for The Hague.<\/p>\n
Urinal lollies. And once again, for health and safety reasons, I\u2019d like to point out they\u2019re absolutely not lollies.<\/p>\n
A meat raffle on Tuesday night, and at least one local who appears to have occupied the same barstool since the pub opened. <\/p>\n
But this season did something the previous ones haven\u2019t.<\/p>\n
It opened our eyes to the fragility of human life. He didn\u2019t shy away from talking about his health. <\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t overdramatic, and it wasn\u2019t played for sympathy. It was simply honest. Here was a bloke who had built a career around appearing larger than life, admitting that, like the rest of us, he\u2019s not indestructible.<\/p>\n
That resonated with me.<\/p>\n
Last year, I learned a similar lesson when it came to my own heart<\/a>. <\/p>\n Like a lot of blokes, I probably thought I\u2019d get around to looking after it tomorrow. The trouble with tomorrow is that sometimes it arrives a little sooner than you expected.<\/p>\n And while we\u2019re on the subject of health, this time of year can be just as tough on the mind as it is on the body.<\/p>\n Winter might have shorter days, but the workload doesn\u2019t magically disappear just because the sun does.<\/p>\n And sometimes the hardest paddock to look after isn\u2019t the one out the back, it\u2019s our top paddock.<\/p>\n That\u2019s why this time of year is a good reminder that looking after ourselves deserves to be on the to-do list as well.<\/p>\n It might be taking half a day off or calling in on a neighbour.<\/p>\n Or simply asking a mate, \u201cHow are things going?\u201d then waiting long enough to hear the answer beyond, \u201cYeah… not too bad.\u201d<\/p>\n