40 years ago, the French GP of discord between Arnoux and Prost

Saturday evening, contemplating with delight and hope a crumpled paper on which we can guess the first three lines of the starting grid, Gérard Larrousse reflects. “Six first places, six turbos… If Ecclestone absolutely wants to set up his quick refueling, the race is going to be tough. One of the two Brabhams will certainly play the role of the hare.” Are we considering a stable policy? " Of course. Cheers must preserve all its chances in the championship. If Arnoux is in the lead, we will ask him to give up his place to Alain. It would be too stupid to ruin everything.” Did the two pilots discuss these instructions? Unlikely. For some time now, the atmosphere in Prost-Arnoux relations has been rather cool. In the Ricard paddock, ice cubes are even on the lunch menu: Alain having lunch in the coach Renault, René in a small caravan…

AH328 of July 29, 1982

Last Sunday, the Régie finally got rid of its bad luck but its pilots dug up the hatchet. Reutemann was emulated.

It was to be expected... Since this morning, the sun has imposed itself with insolence. Like this familiar Mistral. Like those damn turbo engines. Two Renaults, two Ferrari and two Brabham BMWs. You mix it all into a huge hat and draw lots. This time, for the Tolemans, it will not be the Brands Hatch party. Just think, a straight line of 1 meters, curves that are no longer there since ground effect found its masters. This morning, there was no shortage of incidents. Tambay broke his fuel pump belt and the 800 minutes of testing will only be 90. Arnoux also lost many minutes, due to a faulty turbo. Prost did a nice jog, abandoning his car en bord de piste, platine d’allumage déficiente. Ce qui n’empêcha nullement tout ce petit monde, aidé par Pironi, Piquet et Patrese, de réquisitionner sans complexe les six meilleures places. Six chronos ridiculisant celui que Laffite avait établi lors de sa pole-position de 1980 soit 1’38″88. Et nous n’en sommes qu’à la première séance libre… « Aucune surprise, concède un Teddy Mayer dépité. Pour vaincre