THE 1970s gave birth to some of the most outrageous supercars and they have left an indelible mark on supercar designs to this day.
When the Lamborghini Countach was born, young boys everywhere cried and pleaded to their father to buy a poster for their room. We didn’t even understand how the lines worked on this design.
When I was young, an unknown chap had drawn a simple pencil sketch of the Countach on the exterior wall of the school toilets, and even that was enough for me to admire it.
In many ways, the Countach is the ultimate 1970s supercar, a doozie into crassness when compared with the beguiling traditional beauty that was the Miura.
For the two biggest names in the game, it was game-on to claim the top spot for the supercar of the decade.
While S’ant Agata already had the mid-engine layout down pat with the miura, the team at Ferrari were probably still busy grimacing at the tractor maker and lamenting the end of good taste.
The challenge was tough, as they had to come up with a counterstrike that must overpower Lamborghini’s assault on style. It was a tall order because the Miura was so gorgeous.
Ferrari had always thought supercars should have their grand V-12 engines in front, under a long bonnet.
Their favourite styling house Pininfarina, on the other hand, knew that the future is mid-engined, so they came up with the P6 concept car, as an effort to show the world and Enzo what a proper Ferrari mid-engine car would look like.
There was hope that the old man to make the transition.
Change was inevitable, when Formula one moved their engines behind the driver, Enzo knew he had no choice, the mid-engine layout was superior in every way for a racing car and supercar.
They took the P6, which was kind of an ugly duckling because it looked like a frankencar with a graceful front end but a very chunky and ungainly rear buttress. Ugh.
The Ferrari team fiddled with the proportions a bit, made it look more streamlined and reduced the visual bulk of the rear buttress and gave it pop-up headlamps.
In an effort to lower the centre of gravity, they took the Daytona’s 4.4-litre V12 and opened up the bank to 180 degrees.
The result is a flat 12 engine of epic proportions.
I know Ferrari called the car the Berlinetta Boxer 365, orBB365 in short, but sadly, that was a lie.
It was not a 12-cylinder boxer engine under the covers, but merely a flat 12 because all they did was open up the vee angle of the Daytona’s engine and the two engines shared all the internal mechanical bits.
In order for an engine to qualify as a boxer, each piston or connecting rod has to have its own crank pin or crank journal, but in the flat 12 configuration, two pistons shared one crank pin, so it’s not a real flat 12.
The bark is usually not as sharp because the crank pin is not distributed evenly. You get more of a throbbing sound like a V-engine. A proper boxer can climb the rev range faster as well.
In the battle for mid-engine supremacy, Ferrari opted for a more conventional longitudinal layout for the motor and gearbox combo where Lamborghini had gone the whole nine yards by fitting their V-8 Crosswise behind the Miura’s cockpit.
Well, there was no real way of fitting 12 cylinders cross-wise without making the car wider than a two-lane highway.
The result is a rather restrained design in some ways and quite extravagant in other ways.
The BB was a wide car despite fitting the engine long ways and it had a long front overhang because they needed to create a wedge nose.
It had dramatic pop-up headlamps but also had large sloping turn indicators underneath that and it was huge.
The flank was quite restrained, there were no scoops and strakes to embellish the sides, only a set of flaring wheel arches that were absolutely necessary to contain the rubbers.
The interior was a fairly straightforward Ferrari cabin with a four-dial main cluster displaying speed, engine revs fuel and temperature with ancillary dials like voltmeter and oil pressure gauge paying rent in the centre console.
A classic black ball gear head on top of a slim chrome shifter guided cog swaps through the gates.
Various switches and toggles embellished the tall shifter and you could get all manners of leather colour in the cabin ranging from black to tan to maroon, blue or even purple.
Minor switches looked like they were procured from the local hardware and the build quality of Ferrraris of this era is best described as craft-standard.
If you’re in the market for one, it’s probably best to find one that has been properly looked after or restored, unless you are looking for an ornamental piece.
I have seen a few BBs in my time, one or two of them right here in Malaysia.
The total production run for all variants from the BB 365 to the BB512 and BB512i with the Bosch K-Jetronic injectors stands at about 2,300 units so they are quite rare, especially in right-hand drive, with most good examples hived away in Japan or the united Kingdom.
Although they are not that easy to find, the BB512 is not really a pretty Ferrari and it wasn’t flashy enough to be popular either, so if you see one, be confident with your offer.