When was that then?
Now you're asking. It may have been the year I sold my camping pass for £600 on e-bay, photocopied my arse, passport and grandstand tickets, and was a regular around the fruit and veg market.
Without googling, I'd say it was early nineties, maybe 92. There was in fact just over 20 cars, maybe twenty two or thereabouts, but a couple had to start from the pits. Whether or not that was because they were so crap they hadn't qualified and the ACO didn't have the nerve to reduce the field further, or they had broke some other rule, I'm not sure.
This was in the halcyon days of (a wonderful chap) Jean Marie Balestres' tenure, a man who wouldn't know one end of a race car from another, but I'd bet he'd memorized the numbers of his Swiss bank accounts.
It wasn't a classic.
H