What do you remember about the 1980s? What things does that decade make you think of? Were you even born then?! To some people, the decade recalls a new wave of questionable music, terrible fashion crimes, big hair, the rise of MTV and soap operas like Dallas. More seriously there were nuclear meltdowns, ill-thought out invasions aplenty and general international unrest.
For the automotive world, the ’80s would also prove to be a time of seismic change. By its very nature, racing is always about being on the cutting edge: advantage is gained through breakthroughs in technology being applied to their maximum. Disk brakes, monocoques, aerodynamics, engine management, engine efficiency – they were all part of a racing arms race that had been going on for generations. But the 1980s brought together all these things at their respective pinnacles, at a time when computing power was still in its infant stage and rule-makers’ brains seem to have been given a week off. Things would seem like they’d ben turned upside down…
The 1980s became a decade of violent evolution in racing: the graphs charting development went vertical as almost military levels of effort were put into factory racing programmes. Never before or since have we seen such a variety of machinery across the highest levels of motorsport or the sheer quantity of manufacturer involvement combined with (because of?) such lax rules.
Huge budgets were thrown at racing. The marketing people were giddy with joy as their racing departments came up with more and more outlandish speed machines with which to take on the world. A company like Peugeot could take on Porsche on the same terms. Time was smashed apart. Lap and stage times dropped like stones, with these new cars slicing double-digit percentages out of track records.
What emerged were pure kinetic sculptures, making the 1980s a period which we can look back on as a veritable art gallery of the most beautiful, perfect, effective racing cars ever made.
But this wasn’t something that was clearly signposted: the energy crises of the ’70s had taken their toll on the traditional homelands of the car: petrol prices had skyrocketed, meaning that people just couldn’t afford to run big, gas-guzzling cars. At the beginning of the new decade Japan had become the number one global car manufacturer, overtaking the US.
In fact, an explosion in Japanese small and mid-size car imports accounted for one in four vehicles sold in the USA: a new high that triggered a restriction in 1981 on the number of imports allowed into the States, and something that led directly to the development of sportier models and the luxury, higher profit brands such as Lexus, Infiniti and Acura over the following years.
Across the Atlantic the British automotive industry was in a downhill spiral, sabotaged by quality issues and workplace unrest; many European car makers were also struggling, with only the emerging German auto industry showing signs of expansion, joining Japan as a rising force.
Then something happened: a combination of improved economic factors and a significant change in thinking that turned around what had seemed to be a stagnating industry. A decade that had looked like being as miserable as the ’70s on a number of levels evolved into a glory period of racing purity that was the breeding ground for so much of what we now take for granted in automotive culture.
For a start there was a glut of technological innovation: fuel injection, electronic ignition and engine management systems were allied to much improved disc brakes and materials, and front wheel drive emerged as the standard configuration. The petrol crisis had also ended: the massive spike in prices at the end of the ’70s was followed by a dramatic market crash and a flood of cheap petrol arrived in the first half of the 1980s. By this time car manufacturers had already been forced to direct R&D at fuel economy more than just trim levels and power, which meant that new cars were introduced that were small, fast and frugal. So what could you do with that?
The combination of globalisation, technology, available gas and a public reinvigorated about a new breed of car saw companies starting to look forward and be positive once again. Hot hatches and superminis turned around ailing fortunes: Peugeot launched the 205 in 1983, followed a year later by the first MPV, the Espace. Conversely, 2CV production ended after 40 years. American companies also bounced back towards the end of the decade, buying up prestige European brands like Aston Martin, Jaguar and Lamborghini.
All this innovation and change led to an even louder revolution on the racetrack. Like most things in the ’80s, it did still involve some moustaches, but it also produced some of the most iconic, impressive machinery ever to be raced. Many of the cars you know and love can trace their roots back to this period, whether through the lineage of specific models, the concept of the road-going homologation special, the materials they’re built from or an iconic livery they reference.
Mechanical engineering expertise had to be backed up by one thing: the man behind the wheel. Computers and advanced electronics were still a while away. The ’80s pitted the most ferocious racing cars against some of the most uncompromising drivers ever in a one-on-one battle. The drivers became heroes, household names to this day. Prost. Senna. Mansell. Earnhardt. Bell. Ickx. Ludwig. Rahal. Brock. Röhrl. Kankkunen.
That these drivers made it through the ’80s at all is testament to their skill rather than the safety of the cars they drove. The initiatives pushed through in Formula 1 had begun to trickle down to the other international championships – but not before a short but important interlude that allowed so much of what we’ll talk about here to happen. It all started in 1982 with three simple letters: A, B and C.
Group A. Group B. Group C. Three sets of FIA regulations covering mass-production four-door saloons, two-seater sportscars and prototype racers. Three letters for three series that became dictionary definitions for racing perfection in a way that only Formula 1 had previously achieved.
We’ll start in reverse. At the beginning of the 1980s, sportscar racing and its blue riband event, the Le Mans 24 Hours, were in a perilous state. Hotchpotch classes were cobbled together to maintain grid numbers, and just a handful of manufacturers officially entered the 1980 race. But by the end of the decade Porsche, Aston Martin, Toyota, BMW, Nissan, Mercedes-Benz, Ford, Jaguar, Mazda, Lancia and Peugeot had all been involved. Instead of one or two cars in with a realistic chance of winning, by the late ’80s anything up to half the grid were in with a shot. More manufacturers were in sportscars than F1 – and fan and sponsor numbers were going in the same direction.
Factories had been split by the FIA Group 5/6 schism at the end of the ’70s: did they go silhouette saloon or open-top all-out prototype? On top of that, with fuel regulations unlimited in late ’70s racing, manufacturers just cranked up the boost and watched that precious gas – and their privateer rivals – just disappear: it didn’t make for great racing and was hardly the way to get the media or public on board in view of the prevailing climate. Over in the USA, the IMSA organising body was achieving bigger grids, having decided to deliberately promote restricted two-seater prototypes over road-based cars – more on that later – which proved to the FIA that there was an alternative route.
The new FIA Group C rules for 1982 took, like all the best ideas, a simple approach: use anything you want as far as engine goes, but we’ll only give you a controlled amount of fuel to last the race. Tanks were limited to 100 litres, and only five fuel stops were allowed during a standard 1,000km race. Large normally aspirated or a small turbocharged unit? It was up to you. With these limited restrictions, car designers looked up from their drawing boards with surprise, pinched themselves – and then unleashed everything they had in their arsenal. Naturally, Porsche were quickest off the mark.
Ground effect had arrived in F1 during the previous decade and radically changed how racing cars performed – this would now be applied to sportscars. The cars became more and more slippery in shape, whilst power increased exponentially.
Drag was better understood and incrementally reduced, meaning that by the end of the decade top speeds for the prototypes were up to the 240mph mark, with the WM-Peugeot of 1988 even reaching 252mph on the Hunaudières straight leading to Mulsanne, making it the fastest racing car ever. That meant that when there were crashes, they always spectacular and potentially fatal. In 1985 alone both Manfred Winkelhock and F1-champion-of-the-future Stefan Bellof were killed.
The classic 1000km races of the ’80s are now the stuff of legend: factory Rothmans-liveried Porsche 956s against Martini Lancia LC2s; Porsche versus Jaguar; Jaguar versus Mercedes; all with the legions of privateer 962s and specialist C1 and C2s around them that were unleashed as the decade progressed. Le Mans once again became the focus of the world’s press every June: hundreds of thousands of spectators flocked there and the manufacturers invested cubic dollars to get their cars to the fore.
Group C was everywhere: rules were adopted by national bodies as well, hammering the cars into the public’s consciousness. Thundersports in the UK used the baby C2 rules; Europe’s Interserie, Supercup in the Germany and the All Japan Sports Prototype Championship all used full C1s. Group C itself morphed into an even higher plateau come the ’90s when the cars were barely disguised Formula 1 cars, but this proved a development too far: costs spiralled even further out of control and Group C was finally killed off once and for all after struggling through the 1992 season.
Its legacy lived on though: a Dauer 962 disguised as a GT1 car won the 1994 Le Mans 24 Hours – much to the embarrassment of the organisers – and the open-top TWR Porsche WSC95 that won in 1996 and ’97 could trace its roots back to the Jaguar XJR14. Now, the historic Group C Racing series attracts huge grids to some of the classic circuits around the world, allowing you to get a taste of the championship’s heyday. It’s something that every racing fan should experience.
Rewinding, all-wheel drive had been allowed in international rallying rules since 1979, but no one had been able to make it work within the context of the additional weight and complexity. Then Audi came along in 1980 with the turbocharged Quattro and fired the warning shot – everything was about to change. Rear-wheel drive cars continued to win, but they were on borrowed time. 1982 and that set of FIA rules arrived.
Ah. Group B. The mere name makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Rallying has always been exciting – no matter what you may have heard, it still is when you watch it – but Group B was something… special. It’s like the rule makers were a little over tired after working on the myriad other rule sets introduced that year. At least Group C used fuel and weight as controls. Group B was just silly. They seemed to have forgotten about the inexorable landslide of technology on the horizon, and just left everything pretty open. Materials? Martian space metal is okay with us. Weight? Yes. It should weigh something. Boost? Oh! Yes. Whatever you fancy.
The numbers required to satisfy homologation regs were also smaller, just 200, allowing the manufacturers the chance to take liberties with production of the necessary run. You need to see the 200 we’ve made? We’ve, uh, lost them. The dog ate them. Another barking mad loophole was the Evo concept. Build just 20 new street cars each year and you had the excuse to further up-gun your competition car. So the manufacturers turned it on its head, built 20 crazy cars and then continued to make excuses about where the 200 original cars that should have been built actually were.
Manufacturers quickly woke up to the potential of the new series. They could take any model they fancied from their range, no matter how small or ungainly, and make it into a Death Star. The public would love it, surely.
Everything from Ferrari 308s and Porsche 911s took on Fords, Toyotas, Nissans, Lancias and the new breed of superminis: the Renault 5 and Peugeot’s 205 were giant-killers in Group B form, the perfect platform to show off the more evil side of these supermarket shoppers.
The Evo rules meant that the production-derived cars were quickly discarded: the final iterations of Group B machinery were pure-bred racing cars using high tech materials and explosively potent powerplants, double the horsepower of the previous regulations. It made for phenomenal spectating as the rocketship cars cut through stages – track down the amazing Madness On Wheels: Rallying’s Craziest Years documentary for some stunning footage and interviews with legendary Group B drivers. But with the cars utterly on the edge and rally stages lined with fans standing 10-deep, potential disaster was always just around the corner.
Horrific accidents in Corsica and Portugal in 1986, in which several crews and three spectators had died, along with another 31 fans injured, led to the manufacturers pulling out en masse and the rug being pulled from under Group B. The cars were banned for 1987, and the proposed Group S rules (Group B innovation but with limited power) shelved. Rallycross was the only beneficiary, as these potent cars were hoovered up by the emerging sport and put to good use around the more controlled environments of European rallycross circuits.
The final part of this trinity was Group A, which was aimed at mass-market four-seat models and covered the touring car end of the racing spectrum. Homologation rules aimed to control the models used, with 5,000 road-legal cars required for every racing variant and the emphasis on stock panels and parts.
But just like Groups B and C, once the manufacturers got hold of these new regs they exploited them to the max: race-prepped versions of otherwise tame hatchbacks were made available to the public in order to satisfy the rule-makers, making the traditional sportscar companies up their game even further.
The by-product was some of the most insane road cars ever, made by manufacturers just so they could tick the homologation box and throw ever-more powerful cars at the track. The BMW 635CSi, Ford Sierra RS500, Nissan Skyline GT-R, Mercedes 190, Rover SD1 – the 1980s brought the word Evo into modern parlance.
Group A was also applied to rally in 1987 in attempt to rein in the excesses of Group B, and although in touring cars it gave way to the fearsome SuperTourers of the’ 90s, the basic rules still form the platform for a large number of road and rally series today.
So what about single-seaters? Like with sportscars, Formula 1 had hardly got off to a kicking start at the start of the ’80s. Three races were boycotted in 1980 due to safety concerns and the ongoing guerrilla war between organisers FISA and the teams’ association FOCA. F1 was still incredibly dangerous: Patrick Depailler was killed, Regazzoni paralysed and Jabouille broke both legs in ’80; Gilles Villeneuve and Riccardo Paletti were both killed in ’82 and Didier Pironi badly injured. But ’82 was at least the final year of a terrible F1 legacy: that of at least one driver dying every championship year…
As with the other FIA series, 1982 proved to be a pivotal year: active suspension was allowed 1982, along with semi-automatic gearboxes and traction control. The DFV-dominated era was swept away with the introduction of turbos: Renault, Ferrari and Toleman proved the concept, and turbos were soon in the ascendancy.
The NA engines, producing around 600hp at their peak, were about to be made redundant: all the major teams had switched to small-capacity turbos by late ’83 and they were universal by ’85.
With unlimited horsepower, cars became qualifying beasts. The BMW M12 1.5-litre turbo used by Brabham, Arrows and Benetton in ’86 produced over 1,300hp in qualifying trim – sure, it would grenade after three laps, but it made for three glorious laps.
Even when turbo limits were imposed in ’87, cars still regularly produced 1,100hp in race trim through rapid advances in engine development, aerodynamics, tyres and suspension negating the four-bar boost limit. Carbon-fibre and composites and other exotic materials formed the cars, and a new generation of drivers emerged: Senna, Prost, Mansell, Piquet.
The FIA was fought a constant, losing battle against innovation: ground-effect aero was banned in 1983; severe fuel limits imposed in ’86; sticky quallie tyres banned in ’87; turbos restricted in ’88 and finally banned in ’89; though it wasn’t until ’89 that drivers feet were mandated to be behind the front axle line…
But other avenues would open up and the cars just got faster until the last hurrah for turbos in ’88 – and then the high tech McLaren MP4/5 proved just as dominating. From now on, it would be the electronics on the car that would dominate the headlines: the days of the heroic driver taming over-powered beast were over.
Alongside the global stage, the ’80s also saw huge transition in the US. GT and road-derived saloons ruled over in IMSA until 1981, when the new GTP class was introduced: two seater, enclosed prototypes with any engine you fancy. It sounds the same as what would appear with Group C, but the main difference in rules was that IMSA went from the outset for balanced competition with the emphasis on preventing factory domination, whereas the FIA had pursued a formula based around fuel efficiency – the price of gas in Europe was still a sticky subject at the time.
British privateers March and Lola supplied the initial chassis and cleaned up for the first couple of years, with the BMW factory team putting their engine into a March to make the fearsome-looking M1C. The Porsche 935 Group 5 car was still strong in numbers and performance to start with: rules-balancing kept it in the game, taking into account their power but older, non-ground effect aero.
Group 44 Jaguar dipped their toe in the water in ’83 with the XJR5 (before also heading across the ocean to Le Mans) and Chevrolet joined in ’85 with a Lola chassis.
Ford also joined the fray with their Mustang GTP. But the Porsche 956 that was all-conquering in Europe wasn’t allowed to play. Its big twin-turbo power and the driver’s feet being well in front of the front axle centreline didn’t go down well with IMSA, so Porsche came up with the longer wheelbase, single-turbo 962 for ’85.
And the opposition did gnash their teeth.
The 962 won the championship in ’85, then again in ’86 and again in ’87. In 1987 962s were first to sixth, a pair of Jaguars and the Hendrick Chevy next – and then another five 962s.
But for ’88 everything changed again. Nissan arrived with the Lola-derived GTP ZX-T and took over from Porsche, blitzing the next four years of the championship. By 1989, powered by the the turbocharged VG30ET V6 from the Nissan 300ZX and with several years of refinement, the ZX-T reached peak downforce levels of 8,000lbs with a lift to drag ratio of 4.75:1.
As with Group C, IMSA continued on into the early ’90s, now with Toyota and their mighty Eagle crushing all – before moving into the new open-top era with the introduction of the Ferrari 333SP.
It was a familiar story in NASCAR: a tumultuous 1970s followed by a revolutionary upturn for the sport and the emergence of a new breed of charismatic legends: Bill Elliott, Darrell Waltrip and Dale ‘The Intimidator’ Earnhardt stepping up to replace the old guard such as Richard Petty and David Pearson. The cars’ template was made slightly smaller in 1981 to reflect the popularity of mid-size cars on the street, and spoilers later added to counter twitchiness at high speed – and those speeds just kept getting higher.
The cars that weren’t called stock for nothing: they still looked like they had been driven off a forecourt, been stripped down and sent out. Advertising was becoming increasingly important, and live TV meant that NASCAR would be beamed into every household. The modern monster that is NASCAR was zapped into life in the ’80s.
Rulemakers were locked in a constant battle with the teams, as every avenue was tried to get an advantage, from fuel and engine specs to underbody modifications. The resulting controversy only added to the series’ popularity with the fans.
The 1987 season is still regarded as one of the most spectacular ever, particularly for the battles between Elliott, Earnhardt and Geoff Bodine. The cars were hitting record speeds as well, with Elliott raising the marker to 212.809mph during qualifying for the Winston 500 at Talladega.
Restrictor plates were introduced for the races on Superspeedways in 1988 to try and split up the pack racing, and the cars began to ebb towards the modern identi-silhouette shape, losing the boxy-but-charismatic style that had given NASCAR so much individuality. It’s only now that the cars are beginning to regain some of the looks of forecourt models.
It was the same story in drag racing: the era of the modified production model was drawing to an end, and bespoke-built cars would dominate across all categories, often taking the sports away from their original fanbase – and starting the inexorable downhill slide in popularity of so many forms of automotive competition.
So there are more than enough reasons why the 1980s are worth taking a closer look at – and an explanation as to just why the decade is held up as iconic on so many levels. There is also so much more to examine, though that does mean we have a great excuse to run plenty more retrospectives in the future.
For the moment, we hope you’ll enjoy our 1980s theme that kicks off today. We’ll be featuring some of the most famous cars of the time (both from the track and the street) showing off plenty of videos and picking out some legendary races. So get growing that moustache – and enjoy!
I've always wanted some explanation on the A, B and C. This is good. No. Better. Btw, I wasn't born in the 80s and yes the Martini and Rothmans are awesome!
Just had a read trough all of this... And wow, this brings back some memories... I would say, the 80's were the pinacle of motorsport evolution in it's twisted insane ways it was going... Crazy powerful cars, crazy aero, unreal drivers... Le Mans, Formula 1, Group B, IMSA and all other racing motorsports... It was just insanity. A beautiful insanity. Great post, no, AMAZING POST, this was just a pleasure to read and see these pictures which tell a story that will never be forgotten in the hearts of millions of motorsport enthusiasts. Bravo!
Finally got around to reading this thing Jonathan, nicely done sir! "Weight? Yes. It should weigh something." Amazing, that's certainly the last time I can imagine we'll ever see a series like that.
A fantastic article, Mr. Moore. I became a teenager in 1980, although my fascination with motorsports began long before that. Thank you for the walk down memory lane. (As a side note, Nissan still owns that GTP ZX-Turbo, the one that won Sebring in '89. I get to see it every week when I go to work at the museum where it is stored.)
Its' was very frustrating to me as a kid back in the 80s to watch all of those awesome Motorsports, yet go out on the street and see such low powered lackluster cars. I know, there were a notable exotics of that era, as well as the affordable stalwarts such as the Mustang, Camaro, Vette and Grand National (in the states) but compared to the cars of early 70s and older; contemporary street cars of the era sucked.
But this article reminds me of how awesome the racing of the time was. I remember watching Group B (or killer B's as we called them) and IMSA racing [I loved the the 962]! I remember how intense NASCAR was at the time, lots of "rubbing" and aggressive contact and position jockeying, and crazy crashes. I also remember drooling over GTP cars with their wide fenders and muscular bodywork. And yes, Indy was a BIG deal on Sundays.
My two favorite race cars? The Audi Quattro and Porsche 956/62. Actually, I'm lying, I like just about everything i saw racing at the time, even Baja and off road racing like the Paris Dakar was pretty awesome to me then.
Great write up! Proof the 80s weren't all bad after all. In fact they were pretty good.
Damn, how I wish I was a teenager in the 80's instead of just being born in '86. It truly was the greatest decade for motorsports. Now I live vicariously through my E30 and AW11, and all my rad vintage t-shirts and hair metal of course.
Wow. Awesome story! Filled in so many gaps in my knowledge as I grew up in that time. I was one of the lucky ones, I guess, as dad used to take me regularly to Brands and Silverstone in the mid-late 80s to get our racing kicks. Actually got to see Group C racers, F3000s and Group B-derived machines while they were still racing! 962s and RS200s FTW!
Jonathan, wasn't Group B a legal class for circuit racing series' as well? I recall reading that the Ferrari 288 GTO and the Porsche 959/961 were built for Group B sportscar racing series that never took off. Any idea why this formula didn't work as a sub-category in the WSC under Group C, similar to GTE and P1 today?
Thanks for the article. Absolutely loved it.
Something about the cars, races, and aura of the 1980s that has me addicted....and now I know why, great read.
cool pics for sure. Would be really interesting to examine the 70's, which IMHO is really when the "modern" era of racing began. Where the technology and production techniques were created that allowed for the general designs we see today. The safety side handnt really caught up yet, but the cars themselves took a much more modern feel to them
First....Yes, Group C,Group B, first turbo years of F1, Senna vs Prost, Group C touring cars in Aus. But the 90's gave us, V12 F1, DTM Klass 1, Super Touring Klass II, FIA GT cars, Group S derived WRC cars from 1997 forward, and V8 Supercars.
Great post, i wish i could have been a teen in the early 80's instead of a little baby lol. Gr 5 super silhouette racers would have been the thing i was out to watch aha
I missed the 80s by thiiiis much!! But damn there was some epic racing. I am yet to see a group B car or pre Senna's death F1 car in action, but that remains right up there on my bucket list =D
That last shot is in Mondello Park is it not.
How did i miss the Stuttgart stormer when it was in Ireland
Oh and great read, i may have only been a whippersnapper in the 80's , it didnt stop me sitting down in front of the Telly on Sundays to watch the motorsport though
Best article I've read on Speedhunters so far. This was one of the most educational, well written, and interesting stories posted on this site. As a child of the 80's, I wasn't old enough to appreciate or see any of the cars/racing of this era until they were long gone.
Thanks for providing a fresh breath of non-JDM fanboy hypebeasty content for a change. I like that you touched on almost every category of motorsport during the period as well. Did Dakar exist back then and did it have its "crazy 80's era?" I realize Dakar is still crazy today so maybe that's a redundant question.
I seriously wish I could have lived in the 80's (born in 96) because of all of these great cars. Great write up Jonathan Moore, and thank you for educating me about Group A and C cars, as I was not too familiar with them before this article.
The best article this year IMO. Of course there is an inherent advantage with such an awesome topic, but still. 80s cars are where it at.
"But ’82 was at least the final year of a terrible F1 legacy: that of at least one driver dying every championship year…"
I thought that happened first in the late '70s, maybe '76? Could be wrong though....
Either way, as others have said, great article worth another look.
the only people who think all 80s clothes were neon dayglo bs are people who were not alive during the 1980s
What an amazing read!
I love everything racing related to the 80s, im a huge 80s Formula fan and Group C fanatic!
Great read and really looking forward to see the rest of 80s week!
Once again speedhunters show to be more then american drifting :D
Awesome write-up! I'm a child of the 80's, so I wasn't actively following motorsports back then, but I love the era for all it is. Thanks for this theme-week Speedhunters!
@Kalim Iqbal Exactly right: as with all the rules sets they applied to certain car types rather than always specific types of racing. It's a little bit like the Global Racing Engine now: the concept of a single reg that can be applied to multiple series. I think the main reason it didn't fly at Le Mans is that everyone had their eye on the overall win: it's all about that kudos...
@Ferraz I love the Mp4/4. So awesome. his first WC.
Yep, that would be good – the technology definitely saw a shift during that decade as well, and the car shapes became more recognisably modern. The '80s was when so many of the developments that started in the previous decade reached their peak. So, yes, maybe a '70s theme later this year!
@silverbullitt It is indeed – and the 962 is sitting pretty in the museum! There is a full 962 feature coming up tomorrow. :)
@Chris Nuggets Oh yes, it certainly did – the original and classic Paris-Dakar. Jacky Ickx starred in the awesome Porsche 959 in the mid-'80s. It's the perfect excuse for another story in the future!
Just curious, did you watch F1 last year?
@SamBCR3 Ah yes, a beautiful moment for the Brits – and the other car on my wall (next to a Lancia LC!). Again, worth a story on its own. We don't want to use everything up in one go, and this story could have been never-ending otherwise! :)
@midgeman I'm almost 40, i've been watching F1 for nearly 17 years, i know whats real racing & whats crap. Real men back in the day didn't need DRS to make a calculated pass. Plus, all the FIA politics are worse than ever. Good day.
@SlappysCarBlog @midgeman wow could not agree more. Having followed F1 for the last 23 years, this last year was among the best I can recall. Sure, F1 has lost its way a few times, but the structure they have now, with knockout qualifying, DRS and the engine/tire rules makes it very competitive. I think a big part of the nostalgia for us Americans back then was the lack of media coverage/exposure. Sure, you could see it on ESPN if you had cable, or ABC, but the sheer volume of coverage and info out there now is staggering. When I think of the worst incidents of the last 10 years, I am thankful of all the safety developments. Massa, just as an example, would likely be dead without them. So would Kubica (remember Canada '07). And the carnage of Spa this year. Sure, some of the personalities then were a bit rougher around the edges, but its still the motorsport pinnacle and has only increased on popularity while constantly evolving technology. I cant think of another motorsport event that has stradled that line so well
Everyone is entitled to their opinion. Obviously DRS has ruined things for you. I don't like DRS either, but there was plenty of exciting racing and passes made without it last year. Also, real men didn't deserve to die back in the day either. And personally, I don't care about the politics. I watch the racing for what it is. I will have a good day, thank you.