Dynamite recovery at Le Mans in June and arrive, covered in glory, on Formula 1’s doorstep in July. It seemed so neat – and simple – for two French industrial giants: Renault and Michelin. But, as their Alpine A442 Turbos had proved so conclusively in 1976, beating Porsche is never easy.

Ickx had fallen out of love with Formula 1 and in-turn fallen out of favour for 1977. (Was he the first real superstar to suffer burnout?). So, back to his happy hunting ground at Le Mans and seeking a third win on the bounce, Ickx was paired with fellow three-time Le Mans winner Henri Pescarolo in a Porsche 936. However, the plan backfired when they retired from second after 45 laps because of a holed piston.

It was decided to plug the redundant Ickx into the other car, and as Ickx remembers, the effect on it was electric.

“Le Mans 1977 is a special win for me, because in my opinion it was the most beautiful one,” says Ickx. “We went from a lost race to a winning opportunity, and nobody expected it.”

Having appeared dead in the water when a defective fuel injection pump cost the car 30 minutes and plunged it to 41st position after just two hours, the corpse was now twitching.

Although the car suffered more oversteer than his original, Ickx was mighty through the night and broke the lap record, set by Matra’s François Cevert in 1973. The Dunlop-shod Porsche was also able to run as many as five laps longer between fuel stops.

Renault began to panic however when its second and third-placed cars suffered mechanical problems during the early hours of Sunday morning. Then, at 9am, the lead car blew a piston.

Ickx and Porsche led, but hang on! Smoke was twirling from the Porsche’s tail…

“When a piston blew it was particularly tricky, we were down to five cylinders so had to be so careful to try and make sure the car was in a condition to do the final lap,” says Ickx. “The Alpine-Renaults dominated the race, but didn’t make the distance, we were close to also not making it.”

Porsche pored over its stationary, silent machine in the pits, and studied the rulebook. The decision to begin running conservatively on part-throttle had been a mistake: the resultant weak mixture had melted a piston.

All was not lost, however. The final lap had to be completed within a certain percentage of its penultimate lap for a car to be classified. A plan was hatched.

With a spark plug removed and an incongruously large clock taped to its steering wheel, Jürgen Barth edged the wounded 936 onto the track. The bearded German was selected for this nerve-wracking task because of his extensive mechanical knowledge – and because Ickx had reached the maximum permitted time at the wheel. The lead was still large but nothing could be guaranteed. At 3.59pm, Barth began the crucial final lap.

“I was terrified for the last stage of the race,” says Ickx. “I went back to my motor home and closed my eyes and crossed my fingers, so much that I got cramps in them. I was listening always to try and hear an engine in trouble. Nothing could be taken for granted.”

Back in 1968, driving a Ford GT40 (for the JWA team now running Mirages), Ickx had denied Porsche its maiden Le Mans victory in a thrilling dice to the finish. He’d felt in control and confident throughout. This time – at the height of his power – he was powerless. He’d driven sublimely, arguably harder for longer than anyone ever had at Le Mans.