New Track Record

Money (That’s What I Want) *

Thomas Edward Brown wrote that “Money is honey my little sonny,/ And a rich man’s joke is always funny.”  But laughter is hard to find in IndyCar right now.  Just like money.  A common strategy in police work is to “follow the money” when trying to put together a case.  IndyCar’s problem right now is having some money to follow.  In terms of finances, IndyCar and its racing teams are like most of us: just trying to make ends meet.

It’s a fact that “money talks and bullshit walks.”  There is no better example of this axiom than IndyCar’s current plight.  At this time they have a 15 race schedule instead of the contractually required 16 to satisfy their agreement with title sponsor IZOD.  Maybe IZOD is an understanding corporate entity that does not expect its business partner to honor its contract.  Sure it is.  IndyCar is bought and paid for.  They owe a huge debt to IZOD for stepping up when no one else would.  IndyCar owes IZOD 16 races.  The question is whether IZOD will hold IndyCar accountable or give them a pass if they fail to deliver.  THIS is scary.  An unhappy IZOD walking away from a series that cannot honor its obligations would be a disaster.  And after Las Vegas, it’s easy to see why a corporation would not want to be associated with an entity that could be perceived as bad for business.  The name is the “IZOD IndyCar Series” after all.  They pay for positive PR.  The press after Las Vegas was decidedly not positive.  If IndyCar cannot produce the events in the contract, IZOD could walk away.

And the problem with the number of races can be linked directly to oval tracks.  Ovals are dying like moths in a tiki torch at a 4th of July cookout.  And this is happening for one simple reason: they don’t make money.  Loudon and Milwaukee have great racing but no fans.  The promoters can’t profit, so the races can’t prosper.  The attendance at these races did not make money for the promoter.  If a promoter can’t eat, they won’t promote an event.  It’s truly a conundrum.  Oval racing is IndyCar’s heritage and identity.  Fans and bloggers are apoplectic about the dearth of oval tracks on the schedule.  IndyCar absolutely wants ovals on its schedule.  The problem is twofold.  One, many of the ovals do not attract paying customers, and two, the oval tracks are in the driver’s seat in negotiations for races.  They want a good deal from IndyCar regarding sanctioning fees because they know IndyCar is desperate to add races to get to the contracted number as well as add ovals to satisfy their fan base.  Texas Eddie Gossage can play hardball because IndyCar is negotiating from a position of weakness.  That’s called business, folks, and those tracks and promoters should not be vilified for negotiating the best deal they can.   Phoenix may be back on the radar after this year, but the same business policy is in place: IndyCar needs Phoenix more than Phoenix needs IndyCar.  Hopefully, more ovals will come.  If not, then three or four may be all we have.  That is better than none.

The street courses make money.  They drive tourism in downtown areas like Long Beach, St. Petersburg, and Baltimore.  They have value.  They connect to the community and businesses.  Fans complain about the racing, but that is not the point. Wake up!  The racing is secondary to the profit.  The series needs races; the kind of race really doesn’t matter right now.  Economics is behind the wheel, hopefully on the accelerator and not the brake.  Fans need to celebrate every race because it keeps the series in business and the drivers, mechanics, engineers, and support people employed.  Expect more street circuits, not fewer.  And be happy about it.

We should celebrate Sara Fisher and Wink Hartman.  Money just spoke again with SFH Racing’s announcement of construction of a new headquarters in Speedway.  Do you think Honda noticed?  Do you think a potential sponsor noticed?  You tell me, does an infusion of Hartman’s money make it more or less likely for SFH Racing to land a new sponsor?  Money speaks its own language and other money understands.  But sugar daddies like Wink Hartman are the exception, not the rule.  Most struggling teams don’t get this lucky.  You only have to look as far as Newman/Haas Racing to see what happens when a perennially successful team can’t find solid sponsorship.  Every driver and every team is pounding the pavement and working the phones to secure more money.  These sponsors demand a solid product for their advertising dollar.  The question right now is whether IndyCar offers that product.  Would you be signing up right now after the tragedy at Las Vegas, the laughable officiating last year, and the possibility that IndyCar might not be able to present a contracted schedule to its title sponsor?  Tough question, huh?

It’s expected that IndyCar will offer a full schedule.  We might see a street race in Vegas.  We will go to Texas for one or two races, and Eddie Gossage will leverage a great deal because he can.  Worst case would be a road course race at Indy to satisfy the IZOD contract.  It would be short lived, but it may be necessary.  IndyCar cannot afford to lose IZOD.  The officiating question has been addressed.  We don’t know if it will improve, but there will be a new voice and a new face in race control.  And IndyCar completed its investigation of the crash at Las Vegas.  The response has been positive from people who truly understand the dynamics of this crash on this particular track.  They say IndyCar did its job and did it well.  A number of factors came together to cause the accident, and a flying car hit a fence at exactly the wrong place and at exactly the wrong angle.  IndyCar will survive…barely.

The cost of racing is high.  It takes money and, at times, it takes a life.  We, as fans, need to accept the realities, both financial and emotional.  IndyCar needs to race at the places that are willing to pay the sanctioning fees.  It needs to cater to the needs of its sponsors, both as a league and as teams.  It needs to protect its racers.  If that means fewer oval races, or that we don’t race on certain tracks, or that changes have to be made to the cars, then so be it. Josh Billings, an American philosopher, said it well: “Life consists not in holding good cards, but in playing those you hold well.”  It’s your deal, IndyCar.

* OK, since Tony at Pop Off Valve noticed I did not have a link to a song, I have added the links to three, count ’em, THREE songs.  I even changed the name of the post to “Money (That’s What I Want).  Of course, all three links are the same song by different artists: “Money (That’s What I Want).  These three are posted in chronological order.  The artists are Barrett Strong (the original), the Beatles (the most popular), and the Flying Lizards (the oddest).  Enjoy.

Barrett Strong: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uqCocIh3_o

The Beatles: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9k5ooaufrLM

The Flying Lizards:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ooF27ABwmg&feature=related

DeltaWing and “Delta Dawn”…a comparison

Photo courtesy of DeltaWing Racing Cars LLC

DeltaWing
(Sung to the tune of “Delta Dawn”[1] by Tanya Tucker)

DeltaWing, what’s that funny front end thing?
Could it be a sprint car style from days gone by?
And did I hear you say
You’ll be at LeMans some day,
Racing at that circuit in the sky

Yes, I understand that most of you have never heard the song “Delta Dawn”, and even if you have, you may not think there’s a connection to the DeltaWing other than a similar name.  And you may have noticed that I have NO skill as a songwriter.  One connection goes back to the early 70’s when Jack Stone, a Shirley, Indiana guy like myself, sang a boozy version of the song to a modified 1953 GMC panel truck that had carried a crew to the race for years and was on the verge of being retired (substitute GMC for Delta Dawn).  I don’t remember all of his lyrics, but they were both touching and funny.  The truck is pictured in the header of my blog.

But this is about the DeltaWing and the missed opportunity to change IndyCar from just another racing series.  Like the beautiful and jilted belle in the song, the DeltaWing thought she was being courted by IndyCar.  She thought she had a chance to move into the future with her beau.  But she was kicked to the curb and left to fend for herself after her suitor went back to his former girlfriend Dallara, a rich and sexy Italian.  And we will never know what could have been if only IndyCar was willing to take a risk.

Indy purists knee-jerk whenever true innovation happens.  When the roadsters ran the drive shaft down the side of the car and lowered the driver and center of gravity, it was a sea change.  Racing was different.  Years later, underpowered rear engine cars poked their noses in and racing changed.  We continue to wait for the NEXT BIG THING.  And it was right there in front of us.  Ben Bowlby, the technical director at Chip Ganassi Racing, had a genius moment.  He designed a car that created less turbulence for following cars, used the underbody to create downforce instead of wings, and employed a low horsepower motor to generate high speeds.[2]  That’s called innovation, folks.

We complain about passing and turbulence.  The DeltaWing addressed that.  We worry about cars getting airborne.  The DeltaWing moved most of the weight to the rear of the car and made it more difficult for the car to fly.  And the car would have been perfect for the four cylinder Global Racing Engine[3] if we really wanted to see multiple manufacturers.  But we don’t because Honda prefers a six cylinder.  The purists want things to stay the same.  That way they can continue to complain about the lack of innovation.  The team owners don’t really want change.  The top teams might lose their edges since development would have to be open or because Ganassi has Bowlby.  The politics of money and power ran DeltaWing out of town.  Her kind isn’t welcome around here.

And the fans are a strange brew, indeed.  We hate the look of the partially covered wheels, yet covering the wheels can make the racing safer.  Anybody notice the rear bumper on the Dallara?  We do want to prevent cars flying, don’t we?  We complain that the front wheels look funny.  We wonder if they will turn.  I think the engineers might have figured that out, don’t you?  Form follows function, yes?  And the front wheels could have been changed!  We cry about the lack of marques in the series, but we don’t want the four cylinder Global Racing Motor because it doesn’t have enough horsepower, even though adopting it would likely bring in a number of manufacturers.  We acknowledge that the cost of going racing could doom the series, and a car that BRINGS DOWN COSTS is disliked because it’s different.  We say we want innovation, but we really don’t like change.  The fans kept coming to Indy after the roadster disappeared, didn’t they?  We are Jekyll and Hyde.  We can’t even trust ourselves.

The vision of 33 DeltaWings rolling down for the start of the Indy 500 would be front page news all over the world.  How is that bad for IndyCar racing?  IndyCar would be the only series with a truly innovative design.  How is that not a positive?  IndyCar has taken the lead in safety for years.  Why not adopt a safer car?  The DeltaWing is exactly what we need.  But like a whiny child crying about his Christmas gifts, it’s not what we want.

Delta Dawn kept walking downtown, waiting for her mysterious dark haired man to come back.  At least DeltaWing found a new suitor.  She’s heading to the 24 Hours of LeMans this year with Ganassi Racing’s Ben Bowlby and Dan Gurney’s All American Racers.  Laissez les bon temps rouler, belle.

___________

1 Here’s a link to a YouTube version of the song with lyrics provided. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DmSZINm3GKc

2 All of this can be found at www.deltawingracing.com 

3 A little insight into the GRE from Speed and Marshall Pruett. http://auto-racing.speedtv.com/article/indycar-inside-the-global-racing-engine/

Who’s Driving This Car, Anyway?

American auto racing is precariously hanging on for its very existence.  Crowds are down in IndyCar, NASCAR, and, I assume, on Saturday nights at the dirt and pavement ovals where people see racing every week.  The economy has tanked, and with the corruption that is rampant in Washington, no dawning of an economic miracle is poking over the horizon.  People are hanging onto their money.  Pricey ducats to big time events are a luxury, whether it’s pro sports, concerts, or racing.  No worries exist for the big events; Indy, Daytona, the Super Bowl, and the BCS Championship have nothing to worry about.  Although not recession proof, these are “bucket list” events; a crowd will always show up.   But with money becoming tight, who pays the freight for auto racing in America?

The answer, of course, is sponsorship.  Whether it’s the ads on TV, the livery on the cars, or the beautiful people in the suites, business pays so that we can play.  And they are beginning to swing a pretty big stick.  Kyle Busch is the current poster boy for NASCAR kowtowing to the sponsorship dollar.  Ten years ago, would a sponsor have taken its livery off his Cup car for the last two races of the season after his bad behavior in the truck series?  Ten years ago, would NASCAR have reacted so quickly to public pressure?  The answer is no on both counts.  But now is not then.

Ten years ago, Facebook was not a marketing tool, Twitter was not even a dream, and bloggers were in the shadows.  Corporations gave their money to racing teams, entertained their clients, and figured some back-end metrics to justify writing the checks.  The relationship had to make sense from a marketing standpoint, but the product on the track was not necessarily a reflection of the corporate ethos.  No more.  We have changed all that.  Life is immediate.  The world can track our every thought and movement.  Going to Starbucks?  Tweet it.  Sampling a new restaurant?  Check in on Facebook.  Don’t like the decision of a race steward?  Crucify him in a blog.  And it all adds up.  Mars, a maker of candy bars, reacted immediately to Kyle Busch’s race rage incident and took its name off his car for the last two races.  Social media, as well as print and TV, jumped in and jumped on.  And Mars listened.  Do you think a little tremor went through all of auto racing?  Daddy Warbucks just cleared his throat and the room got quiet.

NASCAR sanitized its product for its sponsors and paid a price.  Ratings and attendance fell.  Then “boys have at it” came along to spice things up again.  And the characters were back.  The aggression was back.  But NASCAR forgot about the sugar daddy who has an expectation of a return on investment.  You can play on his dime, but he gets what he wants when he wants it.  If Mars said they couldn’t live with Kyle Busch, do you think JGR sticks with its boy or sticks with its money?

And poor IndyCar.  In the racing family, IndyCar is like the brother who decides to follow his dream of being an artist while his younger brother NASCAR goes into business and makes a pile of loot.  IndyCar has a certain level of historical and cultural respect, but he has trouble paying the bills, while his brother NASCAR lives in a McMansion and looks down his nose at his poor sibling.  Starving artists have always longed for a patron to support them.  And IndyCar is starving right now.  The sponsors need more than a Memorial Day blow out.  And it’s too bad.  IndyCar has a lot to offer.

IndyCar is a great series with compelling personalities, great street venues, exciting ovals, and TV ratings that are abysmal.  Sponsors can’t sell when an audience isn’t available to be sold to, and sell they must.  And lurking in the shadows is what compelled Mars to jerk the chain on Kyle Busch: the possibility of their product being associated with tragedy.  Sponsors want ratings.  They want excitement without danger.  Society wants excitement without danger.  And IndyCar is a very dangerous proposition right now.  Pollyanna, disguised as a dollar bill this time, is out to sanitize auto racing.  And we don’t want that.  My advice?  Buy IZOD clothing, drink Fuzzy’s Premium Vodka, and figure out what ABC Supply sells.  As Pogo said in the comics years ago: “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

IndyCar, NASCAR, and a Question

In recent weeks Randy Bernard, IndyCar CEO and promotional expert, has been crucified for doing his job.  He promoted a race.  He offered money to Dan Wheldon to win from the back of the pack.  He created a buzz; he generated interest.  He did what Saturday night short track owners/promoters have been doing for years.  He figured out a way to put people in the seats, either in person or at home.  How many times has the feature at some quarter mile dirt or pavement oval been inverted to create passing?  And hasn’t a by-product always been the element of danger?  The New York Times hasn’t done an article on that, has it?  Randy Bernard is a target because he doesn’t have a racing pedigree.

NASCAR president Mike Helton tells the taxicab drivers to “Have at it, boys” and the fans and media wink and rub their hands together.  Sounds just like quarter mile dirt or pavement owners/promoters trying to generate a little interest, doesn’t it?  It should.  Mike Helton is an expert.  He is one of the boys.  He is respected in the paddock and the media because of his expert status.  And one of his “boys” just tried to kill someone at Texas.

And the punishment amounts to a time-out.  It is no more than being told to sit in a corner.  And NASCAR did it all to promote its show.  To put more people in the seats, both in person and at home.  Its ratings were dropping and it did something to spice up the show.  And they are geniuses.  And Randy Bernard is vilified for doing exactly the same thing.  The difference is the racers themselves.

Kyle Busch deliberately put Ron Hornaday in the wall.  He committed assault with intent to kill.  IndyCar drivers wreck each other.  They did it week after week this year on road and street courses.  But they never did it on an oval.  And they did not do it intentionally.  They did it aggressively.  They did it stupidly.  They did it optimistically.  But they never  did it intentionally.  The “boys” in the taxicab series try to do it.  Tell me who should be blamed and who is blameless?  Kyle Busch is despicable, but he is also just a consequence of the decisions to let drivers try to kill each other.  Let the drivers fight after the race, not during.  How can you have respect for a series that promotes this mayhem?  You can’t.  And that’s why I love open wheel racing.  They are not perfect, but at least they don’t have homicidal rages behind the wheel.

Randy Bernard did not create a scenario where a driver died.  Mike Helton and his cronies have created a situation where a driver can.  And they should be held accountable.  The Roman poet Juvenal wrote: “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?”  Who will guard the guardians?

The Sad Reality

Juxtaposition is the placement of two unlike things near each other in a literary work.  The purpose is most often to create an unsettling effect.  I am currently unsettled.  The two unlike things in my Indy car world causing this feeling are Death and Ratings.

IndyCar, like any business, is a bottom line proposition; you should make more money than you spend if you want to keep the doors open and the lights on.  IndyCar’s profits are derived from a mixture of sanctioning fees, sponsorship money, TV deals, and advertising dollars as well as a subsidy from the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  IndyCar CEO Randy Bernard is trying to make the series a self-supporting proposition.  And one thing, and one thing only, is the goddess that determines the value for promoters, sponsors, networks, and advertisers:  television ratings.

And the ratings were up for Las Vegas.  Randy Bernard said he would resign if Vegas did not do a .8; it did a 1.6.  But AP writer Tim Dahlberg noted that the broadcast hit a high of 3.8 at the time Dan Wheldon’s death was announced.  Suddenly I am unsettled.

What caused the spike?  Certainly fans with phones, radios, and computers were calling, tweeting, and texting.  People tuned in to see the wreck and were greeted with the news that the reigning Indy 500 champion was dead.  They stayed tuned to see the emotional aftermath of tears, prayers, and interviews.  They watched the five lap tribute.  And the ratings were good.

Up to this point, everything is as expected.  A tragedy took place.  People tuned in to watch as they would any disaster.  They were moved.  They cared.  But they also watched the replays.  And the ratings were good.

Fans want danger.  ABC/ESPN and Versus both advertise Indy car races by showing highlights of flying and spinning cars.  They advertise side-by-side racing with cars touching wheels.  It takes our breath away.  They hope the action draws eyeballs because eyeballs equal money and ratings are religion.  What does this mean for IndyCar?  Sadly, it is simple.  A champion died in a fiery multi-car crash at the last race of the season, the same kind of crash the networks use to entice our viewing.  And although they won’t use the Las Vegas crash in their ads, you can expect other crashes to be shown as they ramp up for the opening race next year.  And the ratings will be up.  We will tune in.  IndyCar may well be in for a good year in the ratings business.  Danger sells.

And what nobody wants to say, and what people will condemn for being said, is that a champion’s death may lead to higher ratings and the success that comes with them.  As Kurt Vonnegut, himself a son of Indianapolis and a master of juxtaposition, so aptly put it: “So it goes.”

Risk and Reward: Whose Risk and Whose Reward?

On Sunday, October 16, 2011 Dan Wheldon died in Las Vegas while entertaining us. The concepts of death and entertainment appear mutually exclusive, but they seem to intersect in this tragedy.

The grisly scene at Las Vegas Motor Speedway sickened us. We stared. We hoped. And lastly, we cried. But we watched. And that gnaws at me.

I have loved open wheel racing as long as I can remember. Memorial Day meant listening to Sid Collins call the Greatest Spectacle in Racing on the radio. My father, born on Memorial Day in 1913, told stories of the races he attended and the drivers he remembered. My brother, 17 years my senior, regaled me with stories of his races and took me to my first 500 where, at 10 years old, I spent the night before the race on 16th Street and saw Graham Hill win the 500. Nothing has ever compared to it in pageantry, color, and excitement. Tom Carnegie’s voice is part of the sound track of my life. Racing flowed through my veins and made my heart pound. It still does. But I am troubled.

The citizens packed the coliseums in Rome to watch gladiators fight to the death. I can only assume they liked the pageantry, color, and excitement. I am sure their hearts pounded as the gladiators stepped forth to do battle.

I am not going to compare modern race fans to the blood lusted citizens of Rome. None of us want to see the shadow of death drape over a race. I will, however, point to the fact that these drivers, these steely-eyed missile men, risk their lives for our entertainment, risk their lives to make our hearts pound, and sometimes die in the process. But unlike the Roman gladiators, they choose to do it.

Men and women will continue to risk their lives to go the fastest, to compete with others in contests of speed, stamina, and courage. I think some people are programmed that way. We will continue to be thrilled and entertained by their attempts. But are we culpable? Do we not clamor for more speed, more side-by-side racing. Do we not demand excitement? Are we willing to give up the short, high banked ovals? Are we willing to accept less risk? Are we willing to be less entertained?

After surveying the Fredericksburg battlefield in 1862, Robert E. Lee said, “It is well that war is so terrible. We should grow too fond of it.” Are we still learning this lesson?