When he was 14, racing in karts, Christian Horner was leading the pack one weekend when humiliation struck.
With a crash and a clatter, his engine fell out, leaving him trundling down the track with no power.
Something similar appears to have happened to his autobiography, Drive, published tomorrow. The book looks the part, like an F1 racing car, plastered with dramatic track-side details and emblazoned with juicy anecdotes about his many enemies and rivals.
But one major component is missing. The engine of the story, the part that its publishers must hope will make it roar off the shelves, is just not
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