It’s 17 April, 1964 and the first generation Ford Mustang has just gone on sale.

Over the next 24 hours Ford will sell almost 22,000 units – thanks to publicity generated by the car’s launch at the 1964 World’s Fair. Over the next year, the Blue Oval will sell more than 400,000 Mustangs. 

That was Genesis, but the next big event in Mustang history, for me at least, happens 32 years later. It’s 1996, and I’m seven years old. I’m on a family trip to see my grandparents in Warwickshire, and a ’67 Fastback has just driven past us on the motorway. My jaw hits the floor, and the obsession of a lifetime begins. 

I fell head over heels in love with the Mustang, and I knew then and there that I would make it my mission to own one. Now, at the age of 23, I’m doing well – I’ve got the show numberplate.