John Fitzpatrick
peels a terrified passenger out of the seat of his Porsche 935
With the Covid-19 situation seemingly coming under control in many countries, I’m looking forward to one of my favourite classic car events – the Rolex Monterey Motorsports Reunion, held annually in August at Laguna Seca. The Americans are fanatical about their classics and race them hard, and the standard of preparation is almost better than the originals. I hope to be reunited with the Dick Barbour Racing Porsche 935 that took me to victory in the IMSA Championship in 1980. Hard to believe that’s more than 40 years ago.
The 935 was a sensation to drive, with anything from 650 to 750bhp available. We never had an engine problem and won the majority of the races during the Championship. I spent a lot of time crossing the Atlantic to drive a sister car, entered by the Kremer brothers in the
German Championship, which was equally reliable and successful. In fact, I bought the car I drove in Germany when I formed my own team the following year, and I don’t remember a single engine failure.
Our US sponsor, Sachs (manufacturers of dampers and various other parts), put on several promotions using the car. These usually took place mid-week before official practice, and various celebs and TV people would be driven round, by me, at reasonably fast speeds to give the press something to write about. Prior to the race at Sears Point near San Francisco, the Bay Area Porsche Club had organised with Sachs to hold a competition for members, and first prize was to be driven for three laps in the race car. The winner duly arrived and was strapped into a temporary passenger seat that the crew had installed for the occasion. He was very quiet when I joined him in the car, and made sure that he was well strapped in. I asked him how fast he wanted to go and he said, ‘as near to race speeds as possible’. I told him if he wasn’t comfortable or enjoying it to reach forward and tap on the top of the dash board, and I would slow down.
We set off at a brisk pace, and I concentrated on the road to give him a good run for his money. I didn’t see his hand come out to tap on the dashboard and after a few brisk laps (the last one three seconds off qualifying pace) we came back into the pits. When we stopped and the mechanics opened his door he made no attempt to get out. He had to be lifted from the car and helped to stand until he regained use of his legs. Apparently he had been trying to get me to slow down but the G forces were preventing him from reaching out to tap on the dashboard. He soon regained the use of his arms and legs and spent the rest of the day roaming the paddock about twelve inches off the ground, as if he was high on drugs. The whole crew and myself were in hysterics.
The car was a sensation, and if the modern version it inspired is anything like it, it will be money well spent.
John Fitzpatrick began his racing career in the British Saloon Car Championship, winning it in 1966. He was European GT Champion in 1972 and 1974, and became a team owner in 1981.