Why 'scandalous' Le Mans start must be addressed

The enduring image of the 84th running of the Le Mans 24 Hours has to be Kazuki Nakajima stopping his race-leading Toyota almost underneath the famous clock at the Circuit de la Sarthe as it ticked towards three o'clock on Sunday afternoon. It wasn't the end anyone wanted to a super-competitive thriller of a race, but then we didn't get the start we wanted either.

I'm not complaining about the race starting behind the safety car, even if it was a first for this event. The shower shortly before the off was heavy and the track conditions not exactly great. My objection is that the safety car stayed out for so long.

My understanding has always been that safety-car starts are undertaken to allow the drivers to acclimatise to the conditions. I recognise the 24 Hours at Le Mans is a special case given that the start can't really be delayed. That might offer a reason for an extended period of yellows, but the conditions on Saturday didn't warrant it.

So improved was the track by the time the race went green after 51 minutes and seven laps of the 8.47-mile Circuit de la Sarthe that half the LMP2 field - at least those who run on Dunlops - had changed to intermediates. So what the hell was the safety car still doing out on track?

I understand that safety should always come first, but the state of the circuit was in no way dangerous after two or three laps behind the safety car. Tricky? Yes. Dangerous? No. Isn't dealing with wet and rainy conditions part of the challenge of this sport in general and sportscar racing in particular? And nowhere is that more true than at Le Mans.

Four-time Le Mans winner Henri Pescarolo, a man never to pull his punches, was particularly outspoken about the decision to leave the safety car out. "Scandalous" is the word he uses, and I tend to agree.

"Some of the most fantastic endurance races have taken place in the rain and fog," he offers. "If you come to Le Mans, you have to be prepared to drive in all sorts of conditions, day and night. If you don't want to, don't race here."

The legend of Le Mans is built on the unique challenge of the place, and that challenge isn't just about the Mulsanne Straight, the Porsche Curves and Tertre Rouge. It is also about the conditions thrown at the drivers.

Some have built reputations on their prowess in the rain at Le Mans. The chase of the winning Rondeau by Jacky Ickx aboard the Joest Porsche 908/80 in 1980 is part of the legend of the man.

There's also an irony that the driver behind the wheel of the safety car, another four-time winner in Yannick Dalmas, claimed victory in the very wet 1995 running of the 24 Hours. The giant-killing antics of Dalmas, JJ Lehto, Andy Wallace and Derek Bell in their McLaren F1 GTRs against the prototypes is one of the reasons why that race is regarded as a classic.

I'm now going to throw something else out there. Imagine if the downpour shortly before the start on Saturday arrived exactly 24 hours later.

Those who remember Le Mans 2007 may understand why I've raised this. What I recall most vividly is leader Marco Werner screaming over the radio for the race to be stopped as he slithered around behind the safety car in his Audi R10 TDI. Instead, the green flags were waved and we got a few minutes of 'racing' in the run-up to the finish.

I know that Le Mans is unlikely ever to be red flagged. I've been promised by one senior official at the Automobile Club de l'Ouest that it never will. I've always suspected that the race organiser also doesn't want the stigma of the 24 Hours finishing behind the safety car. That's a fair assumption on the evidence of 2007.

I know we are in a different era now that Le Mans is part of the reborn World Endurance Championship and we have a permanent race director from the FIA. But I've wondered for some years now what might happen if there was a repeat of the conditions of 2007. If we didn't get a safety-car period that ran right to the chequered flag, it would smack of double-standards given Saturday's events.

Pescarolo suggests that the prolonged safety car was "very bad for our sport". He's absolutely correct on two counts. It diminishes the status of an event regarded as perhaps the ultimate challenge in motorsport and it's a turn-off for the fans.

That much was clear from the boos from the grandstands and spectator terracing across from the pits. And what about the viewers watching at home on TV? What were they thinking? About something else entirely I should imagine, because they'd probably switched over to Formula 1 qualifying from Baku or gone out.

Long-distance sportscar racing is a hard enough sell in an age of instant gratification without giving people a reason to go home or turn off. Qualifying for Le Mans last week was a case in point. It was hardly a spectacle, but for a few mad minutes at the beginning of the opening session on Wednesday.

I was a fierce critic of the aggregate WEC qualifying system on its introduction in 2013, but now admit that I quite enjoy it. Could it be extended to Le Mans? Most definitely, because its benefits would be multiplied when qualifying is spread over two days. It would help maintain interest when there's a washout of the kind we saw on Thursday.

Toyota drivers Anthony Davidson and Sebastien Buemi raised the idea when I was talking to them at the end of last week. They also suggested separate mini-sessions for the prototypes and the GT cars just like we have at regular WEC races. They could take place at the start of each day's qualifying or at the end. It doesn't really matter.

With less traffic to overcome, it would make qualifying a much purer affair and less of a lottery. It would be good for the fans at the track and provide a spectacle worthy of TV coverage. The drivers would like it, too.

I'm not sure we should expect a revised qualifying format any time soon. Le Mans, quite rightly, respects its traditions and the powers that be at the ACO never rush into change, but surely it would be worthwhile opening a debate.

More pressing is the need to have a close look at procedures that follow a safety-car start. The final 23 hours and nine minutes of the race were a fantastic advert for endurance racing. The first 51 minutes were not.

I just hope the fans venting their anger in the stands left Le Mans on Sunday evening talking about the amazing racing rather than the charade of the opening hour.