I'm just gonna put this out there - I absolutely LOVE Joe Zakopane. I've been doing a bit of research on the guy and he's a real veteran in all forms of stunts. If there's a textbook for insane daredevils, then Joe consistently tears it up and rewrites it, replacing every word with 'DANGER'.

Joe's real name is Janek Wojtkowski but he changed this for performance purposes so that he could forever be associated with his birthplace of Zakopane. Situated in the mighty Carpathian mountains and known as the 'Winter Capital of Poland', Zakopane is the home of the Wielka Krokiew, the massive ski-jump which our man Joe was the first (and only) person ever to go over in a BARREL. In fact, he was supposed to escape from the barrel before it flew over the edge of the ramp, but actually getting out of the chains he insists on wearing has never been his strongpoint. Still, he survived with only a few broken ribs, a shattered kneecap which he had replaced with his favorite ashtray, and a nervous system flooded with ADRENALIN to what doctors have called 'a dangerously addictive level'.

This perhaps goes some way towards explaining his determination to make it BIG in the Spanner League - that and it's the only LOGICAL step for the man who invented Moose Rodeo, has copyrighted an exercise regime based entirely around concrete building blocks, and holds the world record for sewer snorkeling.

This is a man who never does ANYTHING the easy way (he once ran a marathon carrying an encyclopedia and a magnum of champagne) and that's the spirit that really GRABS us here at the Qashqai Spanner League. So, even though it ain't the most POLISHED performance on his stunt itself, the POLISH gent who's a chip off the Soviet BLOC has put himself in POLE position as the competition heats up. (OK, I'll stop with the puns now.)

JAWESOME WORK, JOE!

Here it is, Qashqai fans - the latest entrant into the RED HOT Spanner League has crash-landed onto our screens in a quite literally JAW-DROPPING video. Take a look at the incredible footage of Polish stunt man and (fairly unsuccessful) escapologist, Joe Zakopane taking his Qashqai to new heights and painful lows - in quick succession!

Oh, perhaps I should have warned you before you did that - it ain't for the faint hearted. Ah well, I think everyone should witness the exploits of a man who's truly willing to put his MONEY where his MOUTH is, and his MOUTH where his HANDS should be.

I'll be back later this week with more info on the man they call THE CHAINIAC!

ZA-KO-PA-NE!

You may have noticed that we've been a little short of Spanner League ACTION to report of late. Now, I know you must have been enjoying my musings, ramblings, and wisdom, but never fear, very soon we shall witness some more red-hot, rip-roaring, ramp-rocking stunts from another devoted, dedicated, and deluded team of amazing amateurs.

I don't want to spoil anything for y'all, since the best place for a spoiler is on the back of a car, but I can tell you already that these next guys are gonna be CONTROVERSIAL.

So stay tuned for the latest from the SPANNER LEAGUE!

If there's ONE thing that I've learned from looking at the hundreds of videos of stunts sent to me by fans, it's that when something looks too good to be true, it generally is. So I guess maybe I should have been more wary about those adoring emails I got the other week from 'happy Plum', the 'sexy 21 year old minx', but hey, I'm a sucker (and sorta hoped she would be too) so I set up a DATE with this avid fan.

I guess alarm bells shoulda started ringing when I rocked up in my specially modified Qashqai and she spent 5 minutes caressing the car without really paying me much attention, but hey, I thought, this is clearly a girl after my own HEART. Similarly, I should have thought twice when I asked what her real name was and she said 'Just call me Happy', but I just played it smooth and said 'Well I'm happy if you're Happy'.

She certainly was a minx and, though I don't know if she was 21, I do know she wasn't covered by my insurance. But, remembering one of my favorite haunts from my college days, I took her to a remote spot with a beautiful view - a great spot for young lovers and drug addicts. When she asked me to pop the car's hood so she could 'see my BIG END' I willingly obliged thinking this may be some kind of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' type arrangement.

And it seemed to be going that way when she told me to strip. I did. And as I got down to my boxers she suddenly said 'Wow. D'you know what I really WANNA do?' I thought I could probably guess but was a little surprised when she said 'I wanna sit in the driver's seat - that's where the MAGIC happens'. Well, she's not wrong there, so I got out and held the door open for her whilst she got out the passenger door and slid into my automotive throne.

Then she SLAMMED the door shut and her foot on the accelerator. I really shouldn't have left the engine running.

That was the last I saw of Happy. And it was a pretty long walk back to civilization in just my shorts, so I had plenty of time to reflect on how she'd only ever wanted me for my QASHQAI. After a lotta thought, I decided that if I had her looks, I'd probably do the same - so, if you're out there, Happy, how's about a second date? We'll go to a drive in movie or something. Just please BRING THE CAR.

It's that time of year again. Time for one of my favorite sporting events. Well, one of my favorite sporting events that doesn't involve sending a ton and a half of roaring horsepower soaring through the air - it's the WIMBLEDON Tennis Championships!

You might think this old-fashioned competition with its quaint English customs of strawberries and cream, immaculate white uniforms, and posh umpires saying 'Quiet please; the players are ready' wouldn't exactly appeal to an adrenaline junkie who drinks gasoline and pisses oil, like me. But you'd be WRONG. And damn rude for making the assumption.

There's plenty on offer at Wimbledon for us petrolheads - SPEEDS in excess of 130mph, guys charging down the tramlines, and blown gaskets galore when the umpires get it wrong.

So, if you're not a tennis FAN, why not try watching it and thinking in terms of speed, elevation, and maneuverability? Or, failing that, there's always the short skirts...

GAME, SET, and MATCH, Mr Patterson!

The skies are blue, the birds are singing, and the cleavages are well and truly on display. That's right, folks - SUMMER is here to stay! (for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, that is.) So I've been topping up my tan, dusting off my shortest shorts, and generally soaking up the summer vibes.

I've also been indulging in a bit of the great American custom (and the pastime which took up much of my youth) - CRUISING. There's no greater feeling of satisfaction (well, nothing that doesn't involve a bit more exertion, anyway) than driving around town with the windows down and system up, picking up appreciative looks from the ladies and disdain from THE MAN.

Yeah, I was sure looking pretty fly the other day, chilling behind the wheel to some phat beats and tunes from my home-boys, the HIP young things known as... DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince. I was really getting down to 'Summertime', grinding my thang to the lines 'Riding around in your Jeep or your Benzos/ Or in your Nissan sitting on Lorenzos' (I think that's somewhere in Philly, but most of my knowledge of the streets of Philadelphia comes from Bruce Sprinsteen) when I realized that the 'honey' I was checking out on the sidewalk was my ex-wife's mother! It's at times like this that I'm really grateful for my years of experience at precision driving, because I had to send my Qashqai up through the gears pretty quick and use all of the car's impeccable handling for some impromptu getaway driving. And still the screams of abuse from the crazy hag were ringing in my ears.

One brush with the beast is enough for me this summer, so, for now, it's back to life in the FAST LANE for this old dog - I think I'll leave cruising to the KIDS.

What did you get you get your dad for Father's Day? As is kinda traditional, I forgot about it until Sunday morning and flowers from a gas station just weren't gonna cut it (especially since that was my solution on Mother's Day). But hey, I thought, experience days are all the rage and I have plenty of chums in motorsport - so I decided to take the old man down to our local track and have a little RACE.

It really would have been a GREAT present if I hadn't let my Qashqai Car Games instincts take over and tried to use the pit wall as a ramp. Unfortunately, Dad wasn't on quite the same wave length and, after landing an impressive barrel roll, I went into the back of him even more impressively than Lewis Hamilton rear-ending Kimi Raikkonen in Canada the other week... before we'd even gotten started.

So this one's for you, Dad, and I PROMISE you I'll get your back sorted at a chiropractor's for your birthday!

GET WELL SOON.