1974 Ducati 750 Sport

In a Classic Two Wheels special feature on this fabulous bike, we kick off with Brian Cowan’s original Australian road test from Two Wheels’ October 1974 issue, followed by renowned motorcycle historian Ian Falloon’s assessment of it as a classic, and a look at how much it will cost to put one in your shed today. For most of us, sadly, that’s an “If only…” proposition.

The Supreme Sportster

What’s yellow, goes like the clappers and hurts between the shoulder blades?

No kiddies, not a racing canary with arthritis; the answer’s Ducati’s 750 Sport.

As fast as a Kawasaki 900, possessed of impeccable handling, strong brakes and uncanny smoothness, the bike shapes up as the answer to a cafe racer’s dream. It is a finely-engineered example of the ultimate sportster, yet also impresses as being surprisingly docile and comfortable.

Docile? Comfortable? Looking like that, and with those stumpy clip-on bars, rearset footpegs and racing seat? Right on brother, it ain’t quite as ornery as it looks. It ain’t even as ornery as it feels for the first few kilometres of town riding. Oh, the rider feels it between the shoulder blades all right – and at the wrists and elbows. But let’s face it; crouching right forward is no way to manoeuvre a motorcycle through traffic.

The very important point is that four hours in the saddle hurts no worse than four minutes, and after a ride there are no residual aches and pains. Riders who do a high proportion of their motorcycling to and from work shouldn’t wipe the Sport out of calculations through any fear of it being hard to handle and uncomfortable.

On the other hand, unless you regularly get the opportunity to go fast and put a bike through its paces in handling and acceleration, you’ll not receive full value from this machine. For way up at the top end, when all other bikes are showing signs of mechanical distress or handling deficiencies and are bringing on various degrees of rider fear and discomfort, the big 750 is in its territory.

The forward riding position balances the blast of a 175 km/h airstream, bends are tracked with hairline precision and straights are gobbled up with a gentle twist of the throttle. Riding the Sport is a truly unforgettable experience. Its sights, sounds and performance are excitement plus.

Normally such extremes go hand-in-hand with odd quirks and the need to become skilled to handle the machine, but the Ducati is very short on vices. Mild-mannered and easy to use, it does only what the rider wants when he wants it. The only drawback from the safety angle – and the distributors have already had evidence of this – is that an inexperienced rider could be way over his head without realising it. In other words, he could get into strife because the bike’s competence is far greater than his.

The Ducati’s main drawback from the practical side is the lack of a pillion seat. When you ‘re really stoked on a bike it’s nice to have a friend along to share the experience. Ducati must be aware of the problem, for an optional longer seat is available, while the pillion pegs from the GT bolt straight on, as the frames are identical.

In many respects the two models are identical, but where mechanical changes have been made to the Sport they’re significant. Briefly, they include bigger carbs which lack air filters, reworked high compression heads and new pistons.

Apparently minor, but enough to add about 6 kW (8 hp) at the back wheel, the modifications take at least half a second off the standing quarter time, and give the bike a top speed capability of 200 km/h (124 mph) plus. This is a good 20 km/h faster than the average GT, and comes as much from the Sport’s reduced frontal area as any increase in power.

The lessened air resistance accounts also for the strong way the bike performs past 180 km/h (110 mph). Less powerful than Kawasaki’s 900, it feels stronger at the top end, and is capable of about the same level-road maximum.

And with the tuning the torque characteristics of the motor have been broadened immensely. The peak still occurs about the same spot as the GT, just below 5000 rpm, but where that motor drops off the Sport produces nearly consistent effort well up into the 7000s. Consequently it breathes easily and pulls strongly right to the 8000 rpm redline, and would go well beyond it in the intermediate gears if a rider had a mind to brutalise his bike.

Only in the last 200-odd rpm in top does the headlong rush seem to drop off, so power is obviously occurring at the top end of the range. Like the Kawasaki, the Sport produces enormous muscle over at least a 4000 rpm range, so it’s not surprising both bikes display complete control of all road conditions no matter what the gear, and offer the impression of a never-ending flow of urge.

Yet even in the Sport trim, the twin is well down on potential power; prototype versions of the motor were said to run to 9500 rpm, probably with the aid of a desmo valve system. Ducati had designed the motor as a more simple approach to the big-inch league than the wildly-fashionable (at that time) multi-cylinder concept. A 90 degree V-twin was to the factory the answer in terms of smoothness, lightness and acceptable power.

Detuned for the GT, raised a step higher with the Sport (introduced in 1973), the prototype motor served as the basis for the 1972 factory racers, which scored a notable success at Imola, finishing 1-2 in the hands of Paul Smart and Bruno Spaggiari.

In 1973 Imola was dominated by Jarno Sarinen and the Yamaha 350 and Spaggiari had to be content with second, even though the bike had a revised motor and frame. This year, lack of finance didn’t allow direct factory involvement, and Bruno raced semi-privately to record an eighth in the first leg and a retirement in the second.

It takes a mighty combination to come close to Agostini on a Yamaha 700. So the factory racer may not knock off the four­cylinder rocketship, but Ducati is now selling something which should have no challengers for top dog on the road.

This is a registerable version of the 1972 racers, probably the most formidable piece of equipment ever offered to the motorcycling public.

Called the SS, it features higher compression, enormous ( 40 mm) carbs, and the ability to rev to 10,000 rpm with its desmodromic valve gear. The bike also comes equipped with a handlebar fairing and three disc brakes.

Super cool? Even better when it’s considered that the same bits and pieces can be tacked on a GT or Sport, and from what we can gather, Australian distributors are hoping to be able to offer the options to do so. Not only is the Sport one of the hottest movers on the roads today, but it can be converted to an absolute mind­bender.

Yet the heart of all the oomph is quite an uncomplicated bit of machinery. Fabio Taglioni, Ducati’s chief designer, is convinced a good twin will hold its own against multis any day, and has proved it with the 750. The 90 degree angle of the Vee was picked for its inherent smoothness, and adds much to the bike’s distinctive looks.

The front cylinder is set almost horizontal, with barrel finning placed parallel to the bore to allow decent cooling, while the rear one leans slightly backward. Unlike Harley-Davidson, whose V-twin has exhausts on opposite sides of the barrels and an intake manifold between, the Ducati has both exhausts coming from the front, and carburettors from the rear. Again, this leads to distinctive looks – the bike is different, depending on the side it’s being viewed from, and then there’s the left-hand exhaust·sprouting from up near the tank and the right running at low level all the way.

On the Sport, the front carb is in plain view between the cylinders, while the rear one is almost completely shrouded by the sidecovers. The eye is immediately caught by the wire mesh rock guards over the carb bellmouths; they’re the only provision made to stop nasties entering the motor. While many people throw up their hands in horror when confronted with such a system, it really is no hassle. Grotty as the air in our cities may be, it doesn’t contain enough rubbish to destroy internal combustion motors. Anyone thinking of extensive dirt-road work on his Sport will find it no trouble to attach Filtron sock air cleaners to the intakes. They may not look crash-hot but they do the job.

The centre-lines of the cylinders are slightly offset to allow the conrods to run side by side on the crankshaft. Despite there being no centre bearing the bottom end of the motor is as strong as one could ask for. Narrow flywheels ensure that overall crankshaft length is not excessive, while huge ball-bearings support it on either side.

Outboard of the bearings are the primary gear drive and the alternator/cam drive systems. The shaft extends through each side to be located by outrigger bearings in the external cases. In that way, rocking moments in the shaft are minimised, while the 90 degree cylinder disposition, theoretically one of the smoothest layouts, cuts down central loadings.

The motor is a full wet-sumper, oil for both engine and gearbox being contained in the sump. Primary drive is a helical gear and the clutch is a wet multiplate, the only difference from a million Japanese bikes being that they’re on the opposite sides.

The overhead cams are worked by a bevel gear set driven by the crankshaft. Tunnels on the right hand side enclose the cam drive shafts. With one cam a cylinder, the Ducati also uses rocker arms, but instead of screw tappets, valve clearance is adjusted using caps of varying thicknesses on top of the valve stems.

The gear drive to the cams also connects to the vertical cam points shaft. The contact breakers are housed under a cover similar to the cap of a car distributor, set between the Vee of the pots. It’s a clever little device, featuring condensors which are removable without having to shift the cover.

And despite the apparent short­age of space between the cylinders, Ducati has been able to provide an electric starter, which engages the crankshaft through yet another gear drive.

Gears are all over the place in the Ducati. Add in the gear drive for the oil pump and the only chain on the motorcycle is the one handling final drive. It may not be quite as long-lived as a shaft, but it’s as good as you can get – a genuine Renold racing chain is fitted as standard to the Sport.

The test bike wasn’t equipped with an electric starter; the factory produces ’em both with and without, leaving the buyer to decide whether he wants to go trad or mod. When first we approached the beast we couldn’t help wishing it had the starter – 750 twins of high power output usually take a little leg-power to wake them up. Yet starting was no hassle. Because of the rear-set footpegs, the kickstarter on the Sport is angled forward at rest, in contrast to the GT, but it’s the same unit and long and well-positioned. A hefty prod is still needed but the motor fires up easily.

The only quirk in starting is that you must watch the throttle hand when it’s cold. The Dell’Orto PHFs are equipped with accelerator pumps as are many automobile carbs. They ensure the mill sits up and snaps to attention without any stuttering or starving when the throttle is given a tweak. Believe us, they really work!

On the other hand, over­exhuberant twisting on a cold motor leads to indigestion. First-up starting is a matter of following a precise routine of marginal throttle and half choke which, once mastered, makes it a three-kick affair. Warm, the motor responds straight away every time and settles immediately into a steady 1000 rpm idle – quite out of character with the machine’s performance capabilities.

In reality, the idle is the clue to the way the motor behaves right through the range. Nowhere is there a sudden onset of power as a cam or exhaust effect comes into play. It simply pulls hard and smooth like any well-mannered 750 motor, only where most start running out of steam in the 6000s the Sport merely keeps on keeping on. Again, it’s remarkably like the Kawasaki 900.

Yet not even the 900 can touch the Ducati for overall smoothness. There’s a slight tingle at 3000 and right at the top end some shaking through the bars, but without the tachometer it would take an expert to tell the difference between 5000 and 7000 rpm.

There is some variation in the noise from the mufflers, but even telling engine speed from that would be hard, for above 5000 it rolls forth in a throbbing boom which is all the magnificent motorcycles you’ve ever heard rolled into one. Riding, you ‘re rapt, particularly if you love the sound of a four-stroke on song. Bystanders could be excused for raising the eyebrows: although the noise isn’t offensive it is loud.

The rider hears more of the internal sounds, which are typical of the aural magic worked by designers of Italian motors –noisy in a busy, happy, this-is-a-thoroughbred-piece-of-engineering manner. How the internal whirrs and clicks of some motors seem to persistently presage mechanical destruction while similar noises in motors like the Ducati mean everything’s working well is beyond our powers to fathom.

The tractability of the big twin allows it to pull happily from 3500 rpm, with the real excitement starting 1000 rpm later. On the road this translates to the need for little gearchanging. Stack a whole lot of tight curves one after the other, and as much time is lost swapping up and down through the cogs as is gained by sharper acceleration. Put her in third and go is the motto here; the ratio provides hair-raising punch between 70-140 km/h (45-90 mph), and the way the Sport handles that encompasses bends with advisory limits above 35 km/h. The real mean-looking hairpins call for second cog.

Handle? Heavens, how it handles! The bike cranks over as soon as the rider picks a line, the response seemingly tied to mental rather than physical impulses. Having the horizon beyond the two Veglia instruments tilted way over is the Ducati ‘s natural state. Then the seating position makes sense: the elbows lock down on the knees clamped around the big fibreglass tank, the restricted movement of the stumpy clip-ons is all that’s required to precisely guide the machine, and there’s no need to lift the chin clear of the tank top, even under braking.

Find a stretch of quiet winding road with the Ducati, tuck over and into the bike, and let it take control. Progress will be no white-knuckled series of wheel-skipping wobbles, but an almost dream-like succession of smoothly choreographed movements. The ribbon of road underneath is like the back of some enormous lazy snake which twists in time with the bike, always shifting to be where the tyres are aimed.

Rides like this become the brilliant gems in the necklace of a motorcyclist’s memory. Aboard the Ducati, time, if only a few moments of it, can be plucked from context, frozen, and held in storage. Months, years later, the memory of a stretch of road, a day, and a bike which all clicked, just so, can be relived clearly.

Yet for all the gut-level excitement the Sport is still a product of mortal man, and has its own peculiarities, even in handling. One is the fairly slow response to very tight corners, particularly at low speeds. At 1530 mm (60.2 in.) the wheelbase is not long, it’s enormous. Consequently there is a deliberateness about slow corners which even low weight placement and light steering cannot overcome.

The bike can’t be merely dropped down into a turn and then hauled back up again; rather, it wants to take a faster, smoother line on a larger radius. In road terms, it means the Ducati feels great on such bends, for it’s still stable, but it isn’t as quick round them as the average motorcycle.

Steering stability is good at any other time except for hitting bumps under brakes and simultaneously peeling off for a turn. The Marzocchi forks allow big suspension movement, and compressed they effectively steepen the steering angle. The steering becomes over-light and translates back as nervous shakes through the bars.

Otherwise, damping is excellent at both ends. The test bike was a veteran of a couple of Production races, and had heavier than normal front fork oil, which made it jolt under rough conditions.

Rear damping was also excellent, although we’d like to try the bike fitted with dual-rate or progressively-wound springs. Ideal for medium travel bumps and giving not a hint of wallowing in turns, the units nevertheless felt too stiff for the smaller ripples.

As soon as we started riding the Ducati we were prepared for its remarkable stability under braking, but the power and feel of the units came as somewhat of a surprise, particularly after using the disc a few times in normal circumstances. Lever effort is higher than normal.

We trust that the bike’s extra disc option (the hub and fork legs are all set up for it) also includes a revised master cylinder, or else the effort might verge on the impossible.

Yet at no time was the brake anything less than perfect for feel and response. Stopping super-fast is a matter of hauling on the lever with fantastic strength, to be rewarded with top class and completely controlled stopping.

The Grimeca rear brake is far from being a poor relative in the picture, for it too combines power with controllability. It would be one of the strongest and most fade-free single leading shoe drums we’ve ever used. The specialist Italian brake manufacturers are obviously not resting on laurels won years ago!

The one area the horny sports machines often have problems with is the transmission. Often a beautiful bike is spoilt by heavy clutches and stiff changes. We were prepared to forgive the Ducati a multitude of sins, but instead came away highly impressed.

The clutch is still heavier than average, but not by a stupid margin, and offers the very important benefit of being smooth in take-up and very progressive. It also drags slightly even when warm, which could be a hassle for people racing the model and searching for quick starts. Since the kickstarter isn’t geared to the primary the clutch can be freed by disengaging it and swinging the motor over a couple of times.

The gearchange approaches perfection, despite having a remote shift to allow for the rearset footpegs. Shifting is a medium-long but ultra-positive “click-click” between every gear, aided by a well-positioned lever. A good deal of Ducati’s developmental work has probably been going into swapping the gearchange to the other side. Regulations in the US now require all machines to have a left-side, up-for-up pattern, while Ducati’s bikes have the shift in the style of the British machines of the ’50s.

Visually, the Sport is an attention-getter without parallel. It looks so mean and horny that the Walter Mitty in anyone associated with motorcycles is immediately aroused. The factory has gone real keen on matt black paint, which covers the fork legs and all the outer engine cases. It may have been a backward step; the paint looks tatty when it starts to get scratched. Retention of the polished cases of the GT would have been a better move, even if making the Sport less distinctive.

Anyway, the fibreglass work is what first makes the bike stand out. All the external fittings – guards, seat, tank and sidecovers – are made of fibreglass. Finish is remarkably good, and on inspection all seem to have adequate strength. The striping and name-badge decals on the tank could have done with a heavy coat of clear lacquer over the top. On the test bike they were showing signs of the havoc wrought by petrol and, like the scratched paintwork, only conspire to make the machine look second-hand before its time.

The fairing at the rear of the seat doubles as a useful storage compartment, and can be reached by unlocking and lifting clear the seat itself. Despite being thin, and consequently hard, the seat isn’t as uncomfortable as many a softer example. It could be the riding position, or the way the rider can tuck back against the tail section, but three-hour stints on the bike aren’t the torture one would expect.

The Sport is not festooned with gadgetry, mainly because there’s little need for such for its own brand of riding. There’s not even a sidestand, which looks at first sight to be the biggest no-no possible. But when you equip a machine which weighs less than 200 kg ( 440 lb) wringing wet with a quite superb centrestand you’ve got no problems. The Sport is easier to put on and off its support than many others are with their sidestand.

Instrumentation is carried out by Veglia speedo and electronic tachometer. The tacho proved quick and steady, but the speedo took fright and began to tremble madly above 170 km/h. Well, that is starting to move swiftly. At least it’s simply graduated and has a resettable trip meter as well as odometer.

Electrical controls are functional and not particularly easy to work out. A switch on the left-hand bar handles the horn and headlight high/dip while another on the headlight shell offers lights and park lights. The headlight shell also carries the three warning lights for ignition, lights and high beam.

Mechanically, the Sport is simple, orderly and accessible. Rear wheel adjustment, although on the same principle as most bikes, is neat and positive, with the adjuster placed within the tubular swing arm and big alloy clamps holding things tight on the outside.

The bike’s frame is a lovely piece of engineering and must contribute markedly to its cornering stability. The wide downtubes pass either side of the front cylinder and are bolted to the crankcases, making the motor a load-carrying part of the frame. Horizontal top rails from the bottom of the steering head are braced by a single tube from the top, and loop right to the rear of the bike.

Proof that the designers had things right first time is the identical frame used on the racers. The only change with the current racing machines is a lower frame, allowed by the use of a short stroke motor, and built to increase ground clearance rather than improve stiffness.

There’s no way any road rider will find the limits of the Sport’s ground clearance, except perhaps to nibble at the muffler clamp bolts where they project, and that would require the roadholding of competition tyres.

If you’ve ever dreamt of owning or riding a functional and beautiful road-burner the Ducati Sport has to turn you on. So you ‘re hooked even before you set it in motion. All the wonderful things which happen when you do lead to a type of dazed happiness. In that state perhaps the rider cannot make an objective evaluation – so perhaps the bike does have serious shortcomings?

We couldn’t find them. Even subjected to a cold and logical scrutiny the bike comes up tops more often than not.

See how your favorite machine stacks up against the following list:

Performance? As quick and fast as a Kawasaki 900 .

Handling? Better than any Japanese bike yet produced, as near as dammit to an out-and-out racer.

Suspension? Top-drawer European stuff. Excellent.

Looks? Depends on your outlook, of course, but we were rapt.

Comfort? Not exceptional, but not below average either.

Economy? As good as any bike of the same capacity.

Ancillaries? Basic, but work well.

Lighting? Above average.

Brakes? Excellent.

Reliability? The test bike had won a three-hour race in Adelaide, placed fourth at Bathurst and never missed a beat. The only oil leaks came from the kick start spindle and tacho drive take-off, and both of them were minor.

Practicality? Not good: you’d certainly find it hard to do a trans-continental trip laden with bird and luggage. Nor is it quite as happy in city traffic as a 125 commuter, but lots of other big bikes are less happy.

Smoothness? Better than all but the top two or three bikes, and as good as those.

Price? Marginally more than a Honda 750.

The list could go on, but the result would be the same.

The Ducati 750 Sport is not just a good bike – it is a truly exceptional motorcycle!

By Brian Cowan. Two Wheels, October 1974.

Ian Falloon: The Classic View

Back in the 1960s and early 1970s café racers were for those who wanted to ride fast short duration bursts to the next café. It began as a British phenomenon; café racers mimicking real road racers and, but for some smaller capacity factory bikes like the Ducati 250 Mach 1, they were generally homebuilt specials. The most popular café racers of the 1960s were Tritons, pre-unit Triumph engines in a Norton Featherbed frame. By the 1970s the Japanese were already winning on the track but had yet to embrace the production café racer, so if you wanted clip-on handlebars and rear-set footpegs, the choice was pretty limited. Only Norton, Ducati, and a couple of other Italian manufacturers offered large displacement café racers. The Norton was the limited edition Production Racer, and the other Italian café racers the virtually unobtainable MV Agusta 750 and Laverda 750 SFC. In 1973 the Ducati 750 Sport was the only readily available large displacement factory café racer, and the epitome of functional minimalism. This was a year before the emergence of the desmodromic 750 Super Sport, and for a street racer set-up, the Sport was it.

Long, low and narrow, the 750 Sport was the antithesis of a modern sports bike. The rider moulded into it rather than perched on top, with the front wheel seemingly extending far out in front. Although it grew out of the very similar 750 GT, the Sport was considerably narrower, and its sense of purpose saw it unadorned with superfluous paraphernalia. As it was intended for pure sporting use, turn signal indicators and air filters were noticeably absent, instrumentation and switches were minimal, and all the bodywork was fibreglass. While the distinctive yellow fibreglass was of dubious quality, it contributed to a significant weight reduction. The 750 GT was already considered one of the best handling motorcycles available, but the Sport was better. The low handlebars placed more weight on the front wheel, at 185 kilograms it was lighter, and as a passenger upset the power to weight ratio only a solo seat was offered. Compared to other large capacity motorcycles, 750 Ducatis with their distinctive leading-axle Marzocchi front fork had a longer wheelbase 1,530mm, a lazy 29-degree steering head angle, and a low centre of gravity.  This provided exceptionally high-speed stability, but at the expense of manoeuvrability. And while there were only a few engine updates; the Sport was a much faster motorcycle than its 750 GT sibling.

It is difficult to imagine how by simply changing the carburettor size and compression ratio, the characteristics of the engine could be so transformed. Because tiny 30mm Amal carburettors, and restrictive air cleaners strangled the engine, the 750 GT was a sedate performer. Along with low compression pistons the GT was no match for a Norton Commando let alone a Kawasaki Z1. But with lighter 9.5:1 pistons, and the new Dell’Orto 32mm “pumper” carburettors with velocity stacks, the 750 Sport was suddenly a Superbike. And the 90-degree twin cylinder layout ensured the 750 Sport remained vibration free right up to its 7,500rpm redline. A pair of barking Conti mufflers did little to quell the noise and certainly announced the Sport’s arrival. The only real weak points were the single Scarab disc brake, the harsh Marzocchi shock absorbers, and a propensity for the kickstart to fly off while riding along. The Scarab disc was effective enough, but lacked the ultimate power of a dual disc set-up, while the Marzocchis were typically oversprung and underdamped. In some other respects the Sport also exhibited signs of Italian idiosyncrasy, in particular the clip-on handlebars that were quite widely splayed to clear the petrol tank without catching the rider’s fingers. Early examples like this also included distinctive period styling cues, notably the matt black engine cases.

When the desmodromic Super Sport appeared during 1974 the 750 Sport took a back seat. While retaining the roaring Contis and unfiltered carbs, a steel petrol tank replaced the fibreglass, a dual seat became an option, polished alloy supplanted the black engine cases, and a centre axle fork was introduced to reduce the lanky wheelbase slightly. New handlebar and ignition switches displayed Ducati’s abject failure to grasp ergonomics, but the most unusual feature was a dual tone (Town and Country) horn that couldn’t be heard over the sound of the Conti exhausts anyway. Fortunately the Sport’s soul and essence remained, and the 750 Sport, in any incarnation, is now seen as the definitive 1970s factory café racer.

FIVE THINGS YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THE SPORT

1.  In 1973 the 750 Sport was the top model in the Ducati line-up, much as the 1199 Superleggera is today.

2.  Only 746 black case 750 Sports were produced in 1973, and 66 came to Australia.

3.  The 1973 Sport was the first Ducati to win a major production race in Australia when Tony Hatton took out the 1974 Adelaide 3-hour race.

4.  When AMCN tested the 750 Sport in November 1973 they managed a top speed of 211 km/h. This was the fastest 750 they had tested, and unlike many contemporary machines the 750 Sport didn’t scare the rider at that speed.

5.  Although it didn’t have desmodromic heads, or 40mm carburettors, the 750 Sport was almost as fast as a 750 Super Sport.

WHAT’S IT WORTH?

New: $1895

Fair: $30,000

Mint: $65,000

Ian Falloon is one of the world’s foremost motorcycle historians and valuers, with a particular passion for Ducati. He has written many books on the marque, including Ducati 750 Sport, The Ultimate Guide to Authenticity, and Ducati Motorcycles, Every Model Since 1946. You can see Ian’s extensive range of titles, and get in touch with him if you would like to purchase, here.