A tropical storm system had draped Mount Fuji in cloud and rain as the teams arrived for what would become one of the most dramatic season finales in the history of sport. The numbers were simple: James Hunt, in the McLaren M23, needed to finish fourth or better to take the championship from Niki Lauda, who held a three-point lead going into the race. The weather was anything but simple.
The irony that would define this afternoon sat on the grid in car number one. Lauda — whose face still bore the vivid, raw scars of his accident at the Nürburgring in August, who had been given last rites in a hospital in Mannheim, who had returned to racing at Monza just six weeks later with burned eyelids and tear ducts that could not function properly — was now being asked to race in conditions where visibility was near-zero. The spray from the cars ahead formed a wall of water. The standing water on the circuit made it, by any rational assessment, dangerous beyond the tolerance of normal risk. After just two laps, Lauda drove into the pits, climbed slowly from the car, and stopped. He would say afterwards: 'My life is worth more than a championship.' He was right. He was also, for a time, excoriated by those who did not understand what he had survived.
Mario Andretti, driving a Lotus 77, led the race with commanding authority, his car control in the treacherous conditions superb. Behind him, Hunt's McLaren was struggling. He had led early, then pitted for fresh tyres, and found himself working his way back through the field with the title in his hands. With just three laps remaining, he slipped back to fifth — one position too low to take the championship. The McLaren pit wall erupted in crisis. Hunt fought back through the spray and the chaos, found his way past the cars in front, and crossed the line in third.
James Hunt — playboy, rebel, gin-and-tonic racing driver, British sports hero for a decade that needed one — was World Champion. He learned the news slowly, through radio communications, and by the time it fully registered he was already past the chequered flag. The images of him that afternoon, helmet off, blond hair flattened by rain, unable fully to believe what had happened, remain among the sport's most celebrated.