Doug Nye: How motor racing thrived during the ‘three-day week’

It’s always been a happy – and attractive – feature of anyone’s absorbing interest that it provides each of us with a comfy sanctuary from reality. Certainly that appears to be very true at the present moment with so much gloom, despondency and general mayhem in the wider world – while those within the confined motor sporting bubble just have their heads down as usual… tight-focused upon the immediate future and as always simply ‘going for it’.

Astonishingly, to me, it’s 50 years ago since in the opening months of 1974 the peculiarly British fiasco of a government’s ‘three-day week’ beset us. Militant workers’ strike actions to reinforce pay claims of up to 43% had built upon the energy crisis of 1973 as essentially Arab oil-producing nations embargoed supplies to those which had supported Israel in the Yom Kippur War. To safeguard the British electricity supply, prime minister Edward ‘Grocer’ Heath announced in December 1973 that from New Year’s Day, 1974, commercial consumption of electricity for “non-essential services and businesses” would be limited to three days per week. TV broadcasting switched off at 10.30pm, street lighting followed, gloom and cold prevailed. The economy stuttered into depression while unrest and protest provided virtually the only heat most of us could find.

So what proved to be probably the most resilient and still-productive of specialist industries? That’s right, the one with the most committed and dedicated work force – those intent upon fighting their own sporting war – the motor racing industry…

“It was the year in which as many as 30 entrants contested Formula 1”

All manner of ways and means were found to continue manufacture of fresh components, new cars and simply to charge on with business as usual despite every obstacle reality could erect. Perversely as the wider world saw general gloom deepen and despair prevail amongst a public majority, 1974 in motor racing terms became the year in which as many as 30 distinctively different entrants contested Formula 1 World Championship races, fielding no fewer than 62 different drivers in at least 19 different designs of car.

The then 15-round World Championship series approached its close with three teams and drivers all scrabbling away at one another’s throats for the title crowns overall – Emerson Fittipaldi of McLaren versus Clay Regazzoni of Ferrari and Jody Scheckter of Tyrrell, and after the United States GP at Watkins Glen on October 6 those drivers completed their Championship series in that order – Emerson title-holder for the second time – while the Constructors’ crown went to McLaren from Ferrari and Tyrrell.

For any racing enthusiast focused within his or her specialist bubble, hard times out there in the gloomy wider world had been offset by a racing year chock-full of fascination and fun. That wasn’t quite so true of the endurance racing scene. But few could begrudge the glorious Matra-Simca V12s their nine wins out of 10 World Championship-qualifying rounds. In contrast, certainly for all but the truly marque-committed, Porsche’s utter domination of the GT category another business-as-normal flatulent-sounding bore. But, hey, at Indianapolis Johnny Rutherford won the ‘500’ for McLaren which raised a smile – and glasses – round Colnbrook, Middlesex, way, while France’s cheerfully individualistic Patrick Depailler dominated European Formula 2.

So what of Formula 3 racing? Well, the all-new 2-litre stock-block category which replaced 1600s for 1974 could hardly have got off to a worse start. At the opening race, just five F3 cars started and only one of those had a full 2-litre engine, Brian Henton’s works March 743. Despite increasing opposition he went on to win 15 times that maiden 2-litre season.

In the USA, Formula 5000’s decline continued, but the SCCA and USAC organising bodies combined to prop it up. Two British drivers – Brian Redman and David Hobbs – led the SCCA brigade for Hall-Haas and Hogan Racing, while Mario Andretti and Al Unser of Vel’s Parnelli represented USAC; all in Lola cars. Our Brian just edged out Mario for the final title.

And then there was the stub-end of the Can-Am Championship’s initial nine-season life – dominated with four wins out of the meagre five qualifying rounds actually run by that other totally irrepressible Brit – Jackie Oliver of Shadow, from his team-mate George Follmer in the second (British designed – by Tony Southgate) 8.1-litre Chevrolet V8-engined DN4.

So the purebred racing car industry – insulated by its utterly committed endeavours – emerged pretty much smelling of roses from what for general industry was a diabolically challenging year. The clear-cut victim of real-world problems was the one category which in those days was utterly dependent upon real-world economic conditions – tin-top racing. The European Touring Car Championship driver’s title eventually went to German Hans Heyer, dominant class winner in his Zakspeed-entered Ford Escort, while in the British series top honours went to the little remembered Bernard Unett in his Chrysler Dealer Team’s Hillman Avenger 1500GT.

Hmm, so where within your personal motor racing hall of fame would you put that Avenger, compared to the products of such other ’74 contenders as the McLaren M23 or M16C/D – or the gorgeous Matra-Simca MS670C – or the America-dominating Lola T332s – or indeed the fascinating F1 oddballs such as the Amon AF101, or the Trojan T103, the Token RJ02, and more… All produced against the background of that early-year’s infamous ‘three-day week.’

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Doug Nye is the UK’s leading motor racing historian and has been writing authoritatively about the sport since the 1960s