#02 | Heartbreak to Redemption at Le Mans

Le Mans is the ultimate crucible — a 24-hour test where even the tiniest weakness, mechanical or human, can unravel years of work.

For Toyota, that crucible became a furnace in 2016, when its decades-long quest for endurance racing glory came undone in the final minutes.

At first it was subtle — a falter, a drop in power, perhaps a ghost in the machine. But the ghost became a demon.’

It was Kazuki Nakajima, a seasoned driver and former F1 racer, who bore the burden of those final laps. Driving the #5 Toyota TS050 Hybrid, Nakajima had sensed something was wrong. The car had been showing odd readings. At first it was subtle — a falter, a drop in power, perhaps a ghost in the machine. But the ghost became a demon.

On the final lap, just minutes from triumph, the Toyota ground to a halt.

From the ACO tribune, the view was agonising. Right in front of the Toyota pits, with the team watching on, Nakajima’s TS050 hybrid coasted to a stop. There were moments of confusion — then a flicker of life. The car moved forward a few metres, hope flared, then extinguished. The car halted again.

‘Nakajima frantically attempted to reboot the systems. He banged the wheel, trying to coax the hybrid into life.’

The Porsche 919 Hybrid, driven by Neel Jani, was over a minute behind, still technically on the same lap — but at Le Mans, anything can happen. The six-minute rule loomed large: if a car takes more than six minutes to complete its final lap, it is not classified. And Toyota's car sat stranded.

Nakajima frantically attempted to reboot the systems. He banged the wheel, trying to coax the hybrid into life. The crowd, so often rowdy, fell into stunned silence. Fans in the stands looked to each other for answers — none came.

The TS050 eventually limped across the line on hybrid power — but it was too late. The final lap had taken more than the permitted six minutes. The car was not classified. No podium. No second. No third. Nothing.

Toyota’s team boss, Pascal Vasselon, could barely contain his emotions. Tears ran down his face on the big screen. The Japanese crew stood motionless. Nakajima sat in the car, devastated. The post-race silence from Toyota was telling — the pain too raw. The explanation, when it came, was precise but restrained: a turbo failure triggered an electronics glitch, which disabled the control systems. The car’s complex energy recovery system, a marvel of engineering, had become its Achilles' heel. The very tech that made Toyota dominant had left them powerless.

‘During qualifying for the 2017 24 Hours of Le Mans, he unleashed a lap that seemed to defy physics: 3:14.791. That lap set the fastest time ever recorded on the current Circuit de la Sarthe layout — a record that still stands.’

But heartbreak wasn’t exclusive to Nakajima in 2016. Earlier in that same race, Kamui Kobayashi, in the #6 Toyota sister car, had been charging hard — running strongly in contention for the win until a suspension issue struck in the final hours. The car eventually finished just off the podium, in third place, a galling near-miss.

One year later, it was Kobayashi who lit up the time sheets. During qualifying for the 2017 24 Hours of Le Mans, he unleashed a lap that seemed to defy physics: 3:14.791. That lap set the fastest time ever recorded on the current Circuit de la Sarthe layout — a record that still stands. The TS050 Hybrid sang through the Porsche Curves with supernatural poise, and Kobayashi became the fastest man in Le Mans history.

But when it came to victory — to exorcising the ghost of 2016 — it was Kazuki Nakajima who finally brought the redemption home.

In 2018, Nakajima was handed the final stint in Toyota’s lead car. The closing hours of any Le Mans are high-pressure, but for a man whose heart had been broken on the start-finish line just two years earlier, the emotional weight was staggering. And yet, he was serene. Toyota won. For the first time ever, they stood atop the podium — and Nakajima, calm and collected, was the man who took the chequered flag.

‘In the space of two years, he had journeyed from heartbreak to heroism.’

It wasn’t just a win. It was a form of catharsis. Nakajima went on to repeat that feat in 2019 and 2020, securing a remarkable hat-trick of victories — each one a testament to his resilience and quiet strength. He may not hold the fastest lap, but he became the soul of Toyota’s endurance program.

In the space of two years, he had journeyed from heartbreak to heroism. A silent, dignified redemption, shaped in the furnace of Le Mans.

From the fire came steel.