In order to fox the timekeepers and the rules completely you would have to arrange for your two cars to do their penultimate laps at different average speeds, so that the difference in mph when translated into distance would nullify the distance they were apart on the starting line, and if you could do that you would deserve a dead-heat, although I am sure the Timekeepers’ Federation would still produce a trump card from somewhere. It might be worth sparing a thought for the timekeepers next year at Le Mans.
The actual time recording is done automatically by each car being fitted with a battery-operated ‘bleeper’ that sends out signals all the time. As the car passes the timekeepers’ building it records its passage and the signals are fed into a vast electrical machine that ticks away absorbing all this information, and eventually spews out a sheet of paper with the complete race situation, on time and laps. This electronic masterpiece is by IBM but it can suffer mental blocks and, of course, it lacks vision. The result is that a car can be recorded as having done a certain number of laps in a given time, which would put it in 10th place for example, even though it blew up or crashed minutes before. Until the 11th place car does more laps for the given time, then the 10th car stays in the race, even though the unfortunate driver may be in hospital.
On paper a car can often be proved to be in third or even second place; when you know perfectly well it has been in the dead-car park for 15 minutes with a broken crankshaft! In the small hours of the morning this can be most confusing if you are watching the race itself. A year or two ago the IBM machine got the hiccoughs or something and produced printed results at 5pm, 6pm, 7pm and so on that bore no resemblance to what was happening out on the circuit, and you did not need a lap chart one hour after the start to realise that the electronics had gone wrong.
This year the IBM machine got an attack of the collywobbles for it produced a sheet that was headed “Race position at 1 hour 15” and the time for the leading car was 1h 13m.23.4s! It then went really to pieces and printed excellent results sheets at 2hr, 3hr and so on, except that someone must have jogged its elbow for 95% of the letters and figures were illegible, and people who wanted to know the instant situation of the race were going berserk for they had a splendid official piece of paper that was unreadable. I am happy to say that after a short period of nothing at all, which was more satisfactory than something you could not read, the electronics functioned normally and all was well. You may think that drivers in the Le Mans race have a lot of drama, but they are not alone, believe me.