By 1970 James Hunt had only been racing for three years, but in that time he had already earned a reputation as someone whom trouble seemed to follow around. His proposed debut, at Snetterton in 1967, came to nought after he was refused permission to race because his Mini had no windows. Two years later he had worked his way up to Formula Ford but was prevented from taking part in a European Championship race at Vallelunga in Italy because he did not have the necessary medical certificate. His reaction was to sabotage the start of the race by deliberately parking his car at right angles across the front of the grid! As controversy continued to dog his every move, a fellow competitor’s mother remarked that Hunt always carried £5 on him in those days so that he had enough money for a protest. He was never one to shrink away from confrontation.
By 1970 he had entered the ranks of Formula Three and was making people sit up and take notice for the right reasons. Competing in the Shell Formula Three Championship, he had scored points in five of the ten rounds, including a second at Oulton Park and a third at Cadwell Park. In between he had also posted his second major Formula Three win, in a non-championship race at Zolder in Belgium. So his star was definitely in the ascendant when he came to the compact Crystal Palace circuit in South London for round 11, the penultimate race in the series.
Driving a Lotus 59, Hunt finished second in his heat, thereby qualifying for the final. With BBC Grandstand cameras covering the event, there was huge anticipation that the drivers would put on a memorable show for the armchair audience. Hunt made sure the TV viewers got more than they bargained for.
Australian David Walker, lying second in the championship, took the race by the scruff of the neck and so the main interest centred on the six-car battle for second place, which included Hunt’s Lotus and a March 703 driven by Dave Morgan. Approaching the last corner on the penultimate lap, the two cars were virtually abreast but Hunt appeared to have the better line. However Morgan refused to yield, with the result that the pair collided, the Lotus ending up in the middle of the track and the March embedded in the pit wall, both minus one wheel. Hunt exploded, leapt from his car, rushed over to Morgan and lunged at him, aiming a punch which, perhaps fortunately for both parties, missed by a country mile. Morgan recalled: ‘The silly arse leapt out of his car and ran across the track, all these racing cars coming past him. I was amazed he wasn’t run over. I was trying to undo my helmet and as he turned to punch me I lost my balance and fell so he missed. Then other people got hold of him and dragged him off.’
Autosport wrote that ‘a justifiably enraged Hunt felled Morgan in the heat of the moment’ but Motor Sport adopted a less partisan line, reporting: ‘A stewards’ enquiry was convened but by then Hunt had regrettably resorted to fisticuffs to settle his differences. This is very much against the spirit of camaraderie which exists in motor racing and was greatly deplored.’
Hunt was widely pilloried over his latest transgression by people who saw him as a hot-headed upstart who was bringing the sport into disrepute. Hunt protested his innocence and at the subsequent RAC tribunal, which both drivers were summoned to attend, he produced BBC footage of the incident. This clearly showed that his car had not hit Morgan’s first. Furthermore three other drivers testified that, in their opinion, Morgan had overtaken in a dangerous manner. Consequently the outcome of the tribunal was that Hunt was exonerated and Morgan was banned for a year.
For Hunt at least, the punch-up at the Palace had a happy ending. But it would by no means be his last brush with authority.