If you watch modern Formula 1, there’s a good chance you’re very aware of the obscene amount rules, regulations, and politics of the sport — the fractional tolerances that can result in a disqualification if not followed, the unspoken rules that prevent drivers from saying certain things and media from saying certain phrases. But back at the 1975 German Grand Prix, no one really gave a fuck. Especially not the helicopter camera operator, who spent his weekend with his dogs out.
Over the weekend, I celebrated my first two consecutive days of not-working since May by doing the one thing I know how to do: Watching old race car. My husband developed a pretty solid garage TV setup, and with the addition of one Roku stick, I have been rewarded with the ability to watch YouTube videos of old F1 races wherever I so choose.
This weekend, we kicked things off with the 1979 U.S. Grand Prix before letting the algorithm lead us into the unknown — and that’s how we ended up watching the highlight reel for the 1975 German Grand Prix. As we watched Carlos Reutemann cruise to victory at the Nürburgring, I noticed something absolutely wild: the camera operator stashed up in the helicopter didn’t have shoes on, and he was letting his toes fly free in that crisp Eifel mountain air:
It’s a short clip, but it made me do a double-take and command my husband to rewind a few seconds; the camera guy had his feet out!
“What are you talking about?” my confused husband asked before obliging my request. And there they were: a camera operator’s dogs on full display.
Is it revolutionary? No. Did it impact the 1975 Championship? Also no. But I absolutely loved it: Back in a much more relaxed era, this camera operator was thriving up there in his helicopter, tootsies flying above the most advanced cars of the day taking on the most challenging circuit of the era. This kind of thing would probably end up being a scandal today, about which numerous thinkpieces and angry tweets would be crafted. But at the 1975 German Grand Prix, this fella was living his dream in a way I could only hope to experience, and for that, I respect him.