Monaco '82 - the race no-one wanted to win.

The Monaco Grand Prix, the jewel in motor racing's crown, the race everyone wants to win, very nearly didn't have a winner to crown in 1982.

Even twenty years ago, the Principality's great race was deemed an unlikely inclusion on the schedule, but fans and financiers alike still rolled in to the Mediterranean resort to watch the world's best pit themselves against the casino provided by the streets of Monte Carlo. The drivers, too, showed no sign of growing tired of the circuit, which continued to provide their biggest challenge.

The circus was more downbeat than it had been in recent seasons, knowing that favourite son - and the previous year's Monaco winner - Gilles Villeneuve would not be present to defend his title, following his fatal accident in Belgium two weeks previously. But, in true 'show must go on' fashion, the business of pre-qualifying and qualifying continued and, to the relief of all involved, passed off largely without incident.

The 1982 season was to prove one of the turning points in Formula One's move towards turbo dominance. Renault had taken the first victory for a turbo-charged car at the French GP three years previously, but the rest of the field, still undecided on the method's merits, were only slowly coming around. Monaco, with its twists and turns, was also still a good place to have an aspirated unit.

With Ferrari and Brabham in on the turbo action by the time Monaco arrived, it was no surprise that the front of the grid featured a mix of both eras. The still numerically-strong aspirated cars continued to prove that their days were far from over and, behind Renault's dominant Rene Arnoux, the Cosworth-powered Brabham of Riccardo Patrese outclassed its turbo-charged sister, in the hands of reigning champion Nelson Piquet, to take second on the grid. Bruno Giacomelli was a surprise third for Alfa Romeo, ahead of turbo runners Alain Prost and Didier Pironi, with an aspirated Keke Rosberg completing the third row.

With a variety of powerplants at the front of the grid, the usual Ste Devote carnage was anticipated when the lights went green but, remarkably, the entire field managed to negotiate the bottleneck unscathed. Arnoux, aided by a good start and a clear road, burst into an immediate lead and, with Prost quickly disposing of Giacomelli and the slow-starting Patrese, the early laps pointed towards a good day for the home crowd.

Monaco's narrow streets provided even less in the way of overtaking opportunities for the wider cars of the 80s than they do today and, behind the fleeing Renaults, the pack jostled for room without actually changing much in terms of order. On lap 15, however, it found the road through the Swimming Pool section more congested than usual, as the leader spun on his own over-confidence, killed his engine and sat helplessly trying to restart as the field poured around him.

Arnoux's misfortune was the break his team-mate needed and, having had to follow studiously in the opening stages, Prost was now able to stretch away from his own pursuers. With Patrese, Pironi and the second Alfa of Andrea de Cesaris in his wake - Giacomelli having retired as early as lap five - le professeur made good his escape. The action was less exciting outside the cockpit, however, as the packed grandstands were left to consider an increasingly unchanged running order for the best part of sixty laps.

Fortunately for those hoping that an exciting finale would lift their spirits, the weather gods decided to intervene as the event moved into its closing stages. The first spots of rain followed hot on the heels on Piquet's mid-race retirement and, while not initially causing too much consternation among the leaders, gradually combined with the rubber-lined roads to give them something to think about.

Champion elect Rosberg was the first to fall foul of the conditions, clanging his Williams off the barriers at the old chicane, and being forced to retire with a broken wheel. Michele Alboreto, in the Tyrrell, was next, broken suspension ruling him out of the lottery that was to follow, but still it was left until the final three laps for the real drama to unfold.

At this stage, Prost, despite the conditions, was still comfortably in front but, as his first Monaco win loomed large, the normally smooth Frenchman became increasingly ragged. Troubled by backmarkers early in the lap, the Renault was again off-line when it came into the old chicane. Hitting the still damp circuit only unsettled it further and, before he could catch the car, Prost was rattling off the barriers on both sides of the road. Unhurt, but distraught at having thrown away his chance of glory, the Frenchman could only look on as his pursuers took centre stage.

Prost's demise gifted Patrese the lead, the Italian having run sensibly in second ahead of Pironi and de Cesaris as the smoother delivery of his aspirated motor kept him on the straight and narrow. Then, suddenly, it wasn't, the blue-and-white car spinning towards the Mirabeau escape road, its engine dead.

Even as the marshals frantically attempted to get Patrese away from his precarious position, Pironi and de Cesaris were through, the Frenchman seemingly on course for his second win of the season. The downhill run to Loews, however, gave the unfortunate Patrese a chance of bump-starting the Brabham, and again he took up the chase, remarkably still in third place after Derek Daly had put his Williams into the Tabac wall.

As he sped up Beau Rivage for the final time, a flash of red-and-white in the corner of his eye heralded the end of de Cesaris' Alfa, out of fuel. Now in second, he still had a chance of equalling his previous best finish, provided he maintained his concentration for another two miles.

Through Casino Square, back down the treacherous run to Mirabeau, through Loews and Portier and into the darkness of the tunnel. Minding the shape of another stranded car in the gloom, he burst back into the light, down to Tabac, around the swimming pool section, La Rascasse and home - the chequered flag. Cheering mechanics were already hanging over the pit-wall. Brabham mechanics, elated, celebrating.....

Returning to the finish line after his slowing down lap, Patrese was swamped by his crew, pummelled by the hands slapping his back, his helmet, shaking his own gloved hand. He had won. The shape in the gloom of the tunnel had been Pironi's Ferrari, its turbo having gulped the last drops of fuel a fraction too soon, and gifting him his first grand prix win in a bizarre race. A race that could have gone any number of ways, a race that no-one seemingly wanted to win.