New Track Record

IndyCar Blog

03 Mar 2012
4 Comments

Ratings versus Racing

Adios, Danica.  It seems as if you were wearing out your welcome in open wheel land even before you went to NASCAR.  Michael Andretti, quoted in an Associated Press article in USA Today, said the following:

“Yeah, we lost Danica, but I’m not sure that’s going to be negative. I think she brought a lot of good stuff, but she brought a lot of other things that really took away from the rest of our series. And I don’t think that’s healthy. And I think NASCAR’s going to find that.

It became all about her.  Even our racing was secondary. I mean, to talk about her finishing 12th in the field, it was taking away from our real stars that we have that really were not getting the billing they should get.”

Gee whiz, Michael, come out and say it.  “Bye-bye, b- – – -.”  Don’t sugar coat it.

I get it.  Her sun shone a little too brightly for the planets in her orbit.  And make no mistake about it.  Every other driver and owner was one of those planets.  I suspect their egos had a little trouble choking down the steady diet of a green Go Daddy car on every broadcast and a wind-swept Danica hawking anti-freeze, motor oil, and web sites on seemingly every commercial.  But you see the connection, don’t you?  The advertisers are paying money to the network and expect to see their cash cow in a prominent position.  IndyCar, like every other major sporting league, is bought and paid for by advertising dollars.  The sponsors are the true owners of the teams.  Michael Andretti wasn’t making these proclamations when he was the beneficiary of the media spotlight, was he?  Apparently, Andretti Autosport only became disenchanted enough to make a comment after Danica left.  Hmm.

To move forward in sports, or life for that matter, people have to possess a willingness to forget the past.  But you have to learn from the past, too.  Before we say “good riddance” to Danica, we should remember a few things.

Other than the drivers, advertising/sponsorship dollars are the most vital resource for the continued success of the sport.  These dollars will go away if eyeballs do not follow the sport.  Clearly, Danica Patrick brought eyeballs to the sport.  Do we really want to spin her leaving by saying the rest of the league is better off without her?  That’s not a credible statement.  And what do advertisers crave the most?  What gets their greedy little hearts pumping?  Is it Danica in a bikini?  Is it a Will Power kangaroo hop?  No, they crave ratings points like a fat boy craves a Twinkie.  In case you didn’t notice, IndyCar’s ratings were abysmal, even with Danica’s presence in the league.  Momentum?  Hardly.

Lest we forget, there are a few issues with the series.  We have an untested car, a rotten television contract, poor ratings, a recent tragedy, a shaky schedule, and a game of musical engines going on.  Are we getting a little ahead of ourselves?  I don’t think we can say IndyCar has turned the corner before it actually starts to drive down the street.  The season does not start until St. Petersburg, so IndyCar and its fans might want to stop all the self-congratulation until something actually happens.  Before your knees jerk, I know we have some good things going for us.  IndyCar has a surprisingly high car count, great young drivers, some solid sponsorship, and a new international driver to help drive interest outside of America.  But we cannot pretend that we don’t need all the help we can get.  We cannot pretend that Danica Patrick leaving the series won’t hurt viewership.  It will.  And that viewership is a demographic important to advertisers.  That’s why they pay Danica millions to be their shill.

What the fans want is simple: great racing.  What the sponsors want is simple: great ratings.  If Danica only adds to the ratings, that’s not a problem.  If Rubens Barrichello adds primarily to the racing, that’s great, too.  We need television, and television needs ratings.  The formula is not that complex.  One thing Michael Andretti said was true: Danica’s publicity did take the spotlight away from the series racing stars.  Let’s face it.  Danica is a media star.  Doesn’t IndyCar need both?  To Michael Andretti I say this: isn’t the media talking about Danica finishing 12th better than the media not talking about IndyCar at all?  IndyCar may just be following the advice of the great Satchel Paige: “Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on you.”  Keep your eyes on the road, IndyCar.  We really need to turn that corner.

Posted in Opinions and tagged ,
24 Feb 2012
1 Comment

A Bowl of Indy Stew – Day 2, 1986

Did you hear that?  The timer on the stove just went off, and you know what that means, don’t you?  Another bowl of Indy Stew has cooked up and is ready to be served.  This is the third bowl of 1986 stew.  It’s kind of like a good pot of ham and beans.  The more you reheat it, the better it gets.  So tuck in your napkins and grab your spoons.  Dinner is served.

………………..

Will 1986 ever end?  This is the third time I’ve written about it and the race still hasn’t happened.   As we know, day one ended soggily, so we packed up our shelter and headed home.  Maybe better luck and blue skies would show up on Monday.  Wishful thinking.  Monday was just like Sunday with intermittent showers.  Even though there were no cars on the track, we were certainly entertained.

In 1986, in addition to the regular cast of characters, my buddy Vic rolled in from Florida.  Vic was a hometown friend of mine from Shirley, Indiana.  In ’86, he brought his biker buddy Nick with him.  Yes, I know.  It’s Vic and Nick.  If I was making this stuff up, don’t you think I could do better than that?

In any case, our new friend Nick fit right in.   There’s something to be said for having a biker looking guy who really is a biker hanging with you.  Nick had long dark hair, bulging muscles, and wore a sleeveless jeans jacket…with patches.  The patches I remember said “In Memory of Wheelchair John” and “In Memory of Troll.”  Let’s just say that Nick got your attention.  Some people have an aura around them.  That was Nick.  Truthfully, he was a funny and friendly guy.  He brought a battery-powered blender and mixed a great margarita.  He had never been to the race and wanted to experience it at least once.  He certainly added to a stranger’s race experience.

The IMS staff had just built the new infield restrooms.  If you ever used the old pits-with-plywood-over-them restrooms that used to dot the infield, then you know what an upgrade they were.  We were almost giddy to have stainless steel troughs and stalls.  Nick and I happened to be heading that direction at the same time, and we were discussing how he was enjoying the race experience.  He commented that his expectation was that the race crowd would be a little wilder.  Now, I’m not quite sure how to phrase this next part.  There is a certain lavatory etiquette among men when troughs are used.  Conversation is kept to a minimum unless you are conversing prior to trough approach.  You don’t talk to strangers.  Never smile at the guy next to you.  These are unwritten rules, but every guy knows them.  I am sure there are corollaries and codicils, but rules do exist.  I was about to witness what happens when these rules, a biker, and a nasty sense of humor intersect.

Following the rules, we entered the lavatory without talking.  At this moment, some poor citizen had the misfortune of taking the spot next to Nick.  He was either unaware of the rules or inattentive to the situation, and he smiled at Nick.  Wrong choice.  Nick hit me with a quick elbow and whispered, “Watch this.”  I watched as Nick slowly turned his head toward the guy and in a low, slow, and evil voice said, “You know, I can’t pee with someone standing next to me.  I guess I’m going to have to kill you.”

I’ve always wondered what went through the poor guy’s mind at that moment.  Did fear course through his body?  Could he hear his own heart beat? Did his life flash before his eyes?  I was stunned.  I had never witnessed anything quite like it.  The stranger’s knees buckled slightly.  He gasped.  And then he ran out of the lavatory.  Nick turned to me and laughed loudly and long.  His laughter was full of humor and danger.  That was life in the infield in 1986.

Nick never came back to the race.  He started going to the motorcycle rally at Sturgis, and I’ve not seen him since.  Every now and then, I wonder if the stranger ever came back to Indy.  I wonder if he ever tells the story of the biker in the bathroom.  It’s just one more tale from the “Greatest Spectacle in Racing” that makes me smile when I tell it.  How can you not love Indy?

………………..

The adventure has just begun.  Next time, we finally get to race day in 1986.  I’ll just put the pot of Indy stew on a slow simmer until then.

Posted in A Bowl of Indy Stew and tagged , ,
17 Feb 2012
4 Comments

Can you smell what IndyCar is cookin’?

I attended the State of IndyCar at the Hilbert Circle Theatre in Indianapolis last Monday.  It’s a very staid, old-school opera house, and the car out front added a certain “wow” factor to the proceedings.  The welcome to the hoi polloi (of which I am a card carrying member) was decidedly less than enthusiastic.  The teams, sponsors, and other well-heeled types loitered in the lobby sipping wine while the rabble – sorry, I mean the fans – were herded – again, my apologies, I mean were directed – to the balcony seating.  And not just any balcony seats, mind you, but the upper balcony.  The lower balcony seats were reserved VIP seating for fan club chumps – once again, sorry, I mean to say fan club members – who paid to have a better bad view.  It was exactly what I expected.

Let me be honest.  I am a fan first and foremost.  I enjoy inflicting my opinions on others as a blogger, but that is not my raison d’etre.  I like racing, and I am happy IndyCar let the general public see behind the curtain a little bit.  Gracias, amigos.  You didn’t try to see how the event fit with your business plan.  You didn’t try to monetize it.  Other than parking and dinner downtown, it was a freebie.  But the truth is we were there as seat fillers, as extras on a movie set.  Our attendance made the special people feel more special.  Would it have killed you to have a few signed pictures to hand out?  How about a sponsor keychain or two?  Heck, you could just put brochures and sponsor stickers in a bag, and we would have wet ourselves.  Yes, I know, it was FREE, but I am reminded of the immortal words of Carl Spackler in Caddyshack: “ ‘Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know.’ And he says, ‘Oh, uh, there won’t be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.’ So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.” [1] Thanks, IndyCar. I guess just being allowed to mingle with the upper crust was our reward.  It’s nice to know we have something going for us.  Which is nice.

But that’s enough about my very minor negative observation.  The lights went down, the smoke machines purred, and the show started.  Trophies were awarded in multiple categories. The champion was introduced.  The “Fearsome Five” were trotted out as the ones chasing the champion this year.  Here came the American drivers, ready to wrap themselves in the flag and win one for Uncle Sam. Something was starting to look familiar.  I had seen this all before somewhere.  And then I knew.  This marketing strategy was taken from one of the most successful sports entertainment brands of all time, a brand that fills arenas weekly and whose big PPV’s rake in millions of dollars.  IndyCar is becoming the WWE.  Randy Bernard, please let me introduce you to Vince McMahon.

It’s all there.  In the WWE you have multiple championships and belts.  RAW has the WWE Championship and SmackDown has the World Heavyweight Championship.  IndyCar has the AJ Foyt IndyCar Oval Championship and the Mario Andretti IndyCar Road Championship.  In fact, I think a championship belt is way cooler than a trophy. Can’t you see Scott Dixon and Will Power walking through Gasoline Alley at Indy with those big honking belts around their waists?  Those two guys would rock it just like C.M. Punk and John Cena.  They would just need a little intro music to spice things up. The  WWE really knows how to brand and sell.  I’m glad IndyCar is looking to them as a model.

WWE has a monster event called WrestleMania that parallels the Indy 500.  We’ll call this one a wash.  This is WWE’s big payday, but Indy has a little more cachet.  Maybe IndyCar can teach the WWE something about brand loyalty since it has been around a little longer.  If you stop and think about it, the two brands are probably going after the same crowd in Turn 3 and on Carb Day.  I’m guessing that Lynyrd Skynyrd appeals to the same fans, too.  Looks like a shift in demographics to me.  Let me be the first to start the rumor: IndyCar has partnered with WWE for its marketing.  Before you dismiss this as impossible, let me say two words: Gene Simmons.

Do you need more proof that IndyCar is turning into the WWE?  Something the WWE has always been able to do is create controversy and adversaries.  They are famous for the “worked shoot.” [2]  In wrestling something “worked” looks real but is really just part of the show, like the conflicts between the various stables of wrestlers.  A “shoot” is something unscripted and real that happens.  A worked shoot is something scripted that is made to look unscripted.  In other words, confuse the fans; blur the line between real and fake.  IndyCar did a a bang-up job with its worked shoot when they brought the Fearsome Five onto the stage.  It was like a Steel Cage Death Match.  These five drivers – Ryan Briscoe, Scott Dixon, Tony Kanaan, Will Power, and Oriol Servia – became a stable of “faces” trying to bring down the prima donna “heel.”  For those of you not familiar with wrestling argot, a face is a good guy and and a heel is a bad guy.  These roles often flip, with wrestlers changing from face to heel in a week’s time.  The IndyCar brain trust has decided that for now, Dario Franchitti is a heel.  We need to pull for the faces that are chasing him.  At least pull for them until one of the faces flips and becomes a heel.  I assume this will happen at St. Pete when one of the drivers punts somebody and acts like it wasn’t his fault.  You have to change the narrative if you want to keep the fans interested.  Another lesson learned.

If all of that doesn’t prove that the WWE is pulling the strings for IndyCar, then this should: IndyCar had all the American drivers come out on stage to challenge the foreigners.  Holy jingoism, Batman!  Talk about creating something out of nothing.  The drivers looked embarrassed to be out there.  They don’t want to win for America; they want to win for themselves.  Worked shoot, indeed.  Wrestling has always created foreign heels: the Iron Sheik, Nikolai Volkoff, and Yokozuna are some recent examples.  These are people we love to hate.  IndyCar has ripped this page right out of the WWE business plan.  IndyCar is creating a new storyline that plays right into the xenophobic hysteria of the far right.  So far, IndyCar is following this worked shoot to the letter.

The final bit of evidence was Randy Bernard’s rant at the end of the show. His script was a perfect take on WWE boss Vince McMahon standing at center ring with a microphone putting down the law.[3]  He told the crowd that he had a job, the series had a great year financially, the drivers had a new car, and the schedule was getting better.  Now, that was not a worked shoot.  And if it was, he had me fooled.  As the Rock, a staple of the WWE for years would say: “Can you smell what IndyCar is cookin’?”  And if you don’t like it, then Marco Andretti will rip off your arm and beat you with the wet end. [4]

1.   For your viewing pleasure, here’s Bill Murray doing Carl Spackler.  True story:  The other actor in the scene did not know that Murray was going to improvise the pitchfork.  Check him out; you can see the fear in his eyes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8x-nQ-vPw5k

2.  Need a wrestling vocabulary lesson?  Here’s a link to all things WWE.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_professional_wrestling_terms

3.  Here’s a video of Vince McMahon being a heel.  Classic.  Is this Randy Bernard’s model?  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vd-ZfcYFbJk

4.  This a quote from my all time favorite wrestler, Dick the Bruiser.

Posted in Humor, Opinions and tagged , ,
10 Feb 2012
2 Comments

New Track Record’s State of IndyCar

In anticipation of Randy Bernard’s State of IndyCar address coming up, it’s time for New Track Record to offer its views on the current state of the racing series.  I might add that I am totally unqualified to have any views on the subject, which in recent years would mark me as an expert.

Re: the cars
Contrary to recent reports, the wheels have not been falling off of the new DW12’s.  Unless you mean that figuratively.  Really, what were the expectations for a car designed with computer simulations and models.  Were we really surprised that it was slow on ovals?  The media, both new and old, was just waiting to celebrate the problems.  What else is there to do in the off-season?  I guess we have been conditioned to expect, and accept, the worst.  That’s the price of being an IndyCar fan. I know that form follows function, but damn, that is not a pretty car.  As a long time owner of boxers, I am used to pretending that something ugly is cute, but I just can’t act like this car is a movie star.  I would like to thank the F1 constructors, though, for designing something uglier.  Grazie, Ferrari.

Re: the engines
What happens to a series that has only one engine manufacturer for a dozen years?  It opens up the series to new manufacturers as long as the old builder can help write the rules.  Don’t get me wrong, the new engines and competition between the builders are GREAT.  We needed it.  But the very real possibility that teams wanting to join the series could be left out in the cold leaves me cold.  Some have discussed capping the number of cars, but closing the door to new teams now will not give them incentive to come knocking again when, not if, teams drop out later.  The builders are holding all the cards, and they want a new buy in for the newcomers to get in the game.  They want to charge new teams a premium to buy the same motors as their monied peers.  The PR flaks for IndyCar and the builders are putting in some LONG hours to spin this pile of shinola.

Re: the Leaders Circle
Here’s an idea: right before the State of IndyCar presentation, let’s release the winners of the Great Money Goat Rope.  Did anyone else have a vision of a bag of money tied to a goat while a bunch of greenhorns with ropes tried to wrangle it?  No?  I’m the only one with that picture in my head?  Well, that’s my gift to you then.  Once again, let’s see if IndyCar can clearly call some of its teams winners and some LOSERS.  If the losing owners can be believed  (and they can’t) then they did not know the criteria for choosing the winners after the presentation of their business models.  Wouldn’t you think that for a $60,000 ante, you might ask some questions about the rules?  If I plop $60,000 on a table in Vegas, it’s damn sure I’m going to know how to play the game.  Maybe the teams could ask for a rubric?  What the fans need here is a little transparency.  Let us in on the process.  We do want to keep teams in the series, right?

Re: the rule book
Kudos to Beaux Barfield for tackling the rule book in a systematic fashion and taking the time to EXPLAIN why he was doing what he was doing.  The proof will be in application of the rules, though.  As long a he puts the screws down consistently, he can put them down all he wants.  These rules and their applications will be part of the entertainment of the year.  I am looking forward to the Penske, Ganassi, and Andretti hand-wringing pronouncements of innocence and bewilderment when they are assessed penalties.  The more things change…

Re: xenophobia
Xenophobia is defined as “an unreasonable fear of foreigners or strangers or of that which is foreign or strange,” and it’s rearing its ugly head in IndyCar land with Rubens Barrichello and China.  The less worldly of IndyCar fans continue to bemoan the fact that the series does not have enough American drivers, enough ovals, and enough publicity.  Let me ask a question.  WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?  Barrichello has  almost 1.5 million followers on Twitter.  IndyCar needs fans, and it doesn’t matter where they live.  We exist in the world, not just North America.  IndyCar needs to make, not hemorrhage, money.  Brazil is full of racing fans.  Let’s make them IndyCar fans.  And China, with all of its human rights issues, unfair business practices, and, you know, the repressive communist regime thing, is still a money factory with 1.3 BILLION possible fans.  Come on, people, do the math here.  The American education system hasn’t failed that miserably, has it?

Are these the only issues facing IndyCar this year?  Please.  The hunt for ovals to host races, the continual search for both team and series sponsors, and getting a tighter rein on those damn bloggers are also problems to be solved.  But all is not doom and gloom.  The best thing about the State of IndyCar is really simple.  It’s IndyCar.

Posted in Opinions and tagged , ,
03 Feb 2012
2 Comments

All right, Mr. Bernard, I’m ready for my close-up

I’ve always been a fan of the cinema called film noir [1]: hard-boiled detectives, dark alleys, shadows, grit.  It’s not the place you expect a happy ending.  A high water mark of the genre is Sunset Boulevard [2] with Gloria Swanson as the delusional Norma Desmond and William Holden as the ill-fated hack writer Joe Gillis.  Once again, life imitates art as IndyCar intersects with the characters of Sunset Boulevard.

At one time, Norma Desmond had the adoration of millions, the mansion on Sunset, money in the bank, a classic limousine, a pet chimpanzee, and her butler Max.  The connections to IndyCar are clear: Norma is IndyCar.  At one time, her star shone brightly.  She was adored by millions, and the money rolled in.  It was the same for the previous incarnations of IndyCar.  Its place in the pantheon of sports was unrivaled.  The names of the drivers were known by millions, and the mansion at 16th and Georgetown was nonpareil.  The cars at the mansion were classic.  The media and the fans fawned on Indy’s every action; Indy car racing was worshipped and admired,  just like Norma Desmond.

But the good times don’t last, do they?  In the movie, Norma Desmond, a silent film star, was left behind when sound came to the movies.  She never came to grips with the fact that she was no longer a star.  Poor IndyCar has suffered the same fate.  Both Norma and Indy car are rich, but their popularity has waned.  People just don’t seem to care as much.  But Norma, losing her grip on reality, didn’t get it.  She still thought she was a star.  Similarly, Indy car was a star until the CART/IRL split.  And just like the talkies left Norma behind, the split left Indy car racing out of the eye of an ever fickle public.  Norma never accepted her fate, nor did Indy car racing.  Both continued to wait for the elusive starring role to appear.  IndyCar is still waiting.  Norma says: “I am big.  It’s the pictures that got small.”  Change a word or two, and you have IndyCar’s philosophy during the split.

And how about the character of Joe Gillis.  Joe was seduced by the money of Norma.  He had nothing, so he had nothing to lose.  In many ways, you can say the hard-core fans and the media are Joe.  His self deprecating comments and subtle snark toward Norma highlight the dark comedy of the movie.  IndyCar has had its dark comedic moments recently: a wrong way truck at Baltimore, a rainy restart at New Hampshire, and poorly managed races at more than one venue top the list.  The media and the fans, witnessing the the delusional behavior of a race control that continued to act as if nothing was wrong, rightly pointed out that the belief that all was well with IndyCar racing was a fantasy.  Joe Gillis voiced his comments softly since he did not want to upset the Norma Desmond gravy train.  IndyCar’s media and fans were much more vocal and much less subtle.

This all leads us to the final scene.  Joe has decided to leave the increasingly erratic Norma, who believes Cecil B. DeMille wants to produce a script she has written.  She shoots Joe as he is leaving.  Norma is completely disconnected from reality now, and her butler Max, played by Eric Von Stroheim, coaxes her downstairs to the police, reporters, and cameras by pretending she is in a movie. To get her downstairs, he calls “Action.”   Norma looks at the cameras and utters her famous line: “All right, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close-up.”

Maybe I’m the one that’s delusional.  Maybe I’m the only one that sees the connection.  Randy Bernard is Cecil B. DeMille.  He is the producer who is going to create the next big movie.  The problem is he doesn’t want to have an aging, delusional IndyCar as his star.  He needs something new, and he has it.  The series has a new car, new engines, new teams, new drivers, new race director, and hopefully a new direction.  As IndyCar descends the stairs for a new season, you know what is going to be said: “All right, Mr. Bernard, I’m ready for my close-up.”  Let’s hope it’s a blockbuster.  Lights.  Camera.  Action!

1.  Just a little background on film noir (nwa) in case you want to know. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Film_noir

2.  Here’s the story of Sunset Boulevard.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sunset_Boulevard_%28film%29

Posted in Opinions and tagged , , ,
27 Jan 2012
2 Comments

A Bowl of Indy Stew – Day 1, 1986

You know the trouble with diets?  Temptation.  It lurks around every corner: breaded tenderloins, White Castles, sundry cured meats.  How can I get down to my “race weight” when temptation is whispering sweet nothings in my ear.  Right now, for instance, I can smell a bowl of Indy stew simmering on the stove.  Can you smell it?  It’s the essence of suntan lotion, beer, and ethanol.  Delicious.  I can’t resist.  I’ll start my diet tomorrow.  Today I’m going to ladle up a heaping helping of Indy stew, circa 1986.  Grab a spoon and dig in.

In the last installment of “A Bowl of Indy Stew,” our intrepid race-goers survived sneaking in the track the night before the 1986 race, setting up a canopy, and hosting  a horde of yellow shirts who sheltered from the rain with us.  But the day had not even started.

Race morning in 1986 dawned hot, humid, and rainy.  Things did not look promising, but the crowd poured in anyway.  The rest of our crew arrived and pulled the van in next to our canopy.  Perfect.  We had two spots next to the fence in Turn 2.  We lived for this moment.  When you went to the race with a general admission ticket, you couldn’t exhale until you got your vehicle in the gate and parked.

Surprisingly, some of our crew had been drinking the night before.  I know, who would have thought that?  Just after we got our van parked, someone walked behind the canopy and had a liquid laugh.  You know, called the elephants, chundered, yacked, had a technicolor yawn, played the whale.  Got the picture?  Highly entertaining.  As the vehicles pulled in behind us, they veered away from the guy with his hands on his knees.  Being Good Samaritans, we waved people away.  Moments later, all the spots behind us were filled except that one.  Who would want to park there?

A short time later, two girls with a tent hiked up and started to set up camp directly over the spot.  We told them not to set up there, but before we could tell them why they informed us they could take care of themselves, thank you.  Well, live and let live.  Exchanging knowing glances, we left them to their sullied campsite.  They crawled in the tent and went to sleep.  The heat and humidity that day were stifling.  We glanced back at the tent and wondered what it smelled like inside that nylon oven as the day heated up.  The girls slept on.  When they woke up, we heard one of them loudly complain in what can only be described as an entitled whine, “Ew, what’s that smell?”  A lone voice responded, “That’s puke, sweetheart!”  They hopped out of their tent, accused us of complicity in their degradation, broke camp, and flounced away in a huff to a round of laughter and applause.  Apparently, they were not amused.  Obviously, we were.

It was a good start to an interesting day.

Want more?  Just give me time to add a few more ingredients to the pot and let it simmer.  Another bowl of Indy stew from 1986 will be coming up soon.

Posted in A Bowl of Indy Stew, Humor and tagged , ,
20 Jan 2012
5 Comments

What does NASCAR have that IndyCar doesn’t?

I don’t hate NASCAR.  I just hate some things about it.  Allow me to make a list:

  • Digger
  • DW
  • “Boogity, boogity, boogity”
  • That NASCAR claims it invented safety (SAFER Barriers, safety teams, Band-Aids)
  • Its owners heavy-handed attempt to control all tracks in America
  • Its owners more subtle attempts to marginalize IndyCar racing
  • That NASCAR is broadcast on multiple networks
  • That ESPN owns broadcast rights and acts like it’s reporting on an event when in reality it’s promoting its product
  • That hillbilly jackanapes now look down their noses at IndyCar because of the popularity of their series (my apologies to hillbilly jackanapes everywhere)
  • THAT NASCAR IS MORE POPULAR THAN INDYCAR, AND YES, I KNOW THAT SOUNDS LIKE SOUR GRAPES AND JEALOUSY BECAUSE IT IS!

Whew.  I’m glad I got that out of my system.  My jealousy overflowed this past weekend as I watched NASCAR testing broadcast on Speed.  And it was fully sponsored.  TESTING!  *Excuse me a moment while I take my medicine… Back now…Blood pressure under control.*  TESTING!  ON TV!  WITH SPONSORSHIP!  How did this happen?  When did America jump the shark?  Is the current administration in DC responsible?  Is it the economy?  Does it have something to do with the residual effect of concussions from football?  I NEED ANSWERS!

Now, I do understand a few things.  I know the networks heavily promote NASCAR.  IndyCar is lucky to be mentioned unless there’s tragedy or comedy.  Purported news organizations like ESPN are just shills for their own products, and I hate the inherent dishonesty of that.  There should be a disclaimer.  I understand that IndyCar is locked into the Versus/NBC Sports contract, but what’s the future of that?  Will NBC cross-promote the series?  Will IndyCar become a network star or a cast-off?

What does NASCAR have that IndyCar doesn’t?  We have strong teams, drivers who can run multiple circuits, a new car, compelling story lines, and momentum.  What do THEY have?  They have fans who provide ratings.  And ratings that attract sponsors.  And sponsors who provide money.  And money that supports the teams.  And teams that go racing.  And racing that attracts fans.  And we start the circle again.

We all know what NASCAR really has.  They have the eyeballs that watch TV.  That’s it.  The racing is no better than IndyCar.  NASCAR was just another racing series until ESPN decided to make them a big deal.  And they did.  IndyCar’s best hope is to get what NASCAR has: a network sugar daddy.  Our long-term survival as a series is uncertain, and NBC Sports/Versus is our hope and our future.  We only hope that they need us as much as we need them.

If all else fails, we can go the NASCAR route and tell lies and half-truths about our competition with a snide superiority.  Audacter calumniare; semper aliquid haeret.  Slander boldly; something always sticks.  Oh, did you hear that the France family is going to sell NASCAR after the Daytona 500 because of financial issues?

Posted in Humor, Opinions and tagged , , , ,
14 Jan 2012
3 Comments

A Bowl of Indy Stew – The Night Before Day 1, 1986

After reviewing all my posts in this blog, a few things have become apparent:
1.  I trend to the negative.
2.  I REALLY like quotes.
3.  Footnotes amuse me.
4.  I might be pretentious.
5.  I am a topical writer, not a news reporter.
6.  I do not have a “go to” feature.

Not much can be done about numbers 1-5.  It is what it is.  Or they are what they are.  Whatever.  As I work my way through the writing of the IndyCar “bloggerati,” I notice that the real pros have recurring features; “The Paddock Pulse” and “Haiku Tuesday” on Pop Off Valve, “Six Quick Questions” over at IndyCar Advocate, and “Counterpoint” at More Front Wing are just a few examples.  After intense cogitation and a few cold beers, New Track Record is proud to introduce a semi-regular feature called “A Bowl of Indy Stew.” [2]  So when I am too busy or too brain dead to REALLY think of a topic, I can cook up a quick olio from my hodgepodge memory of races past.  Let’s see what savory morsel I have today.

1986 was a watershed year for race stories since it took a Sunday, Monday, and a Saturday before Bobby Rahal held off Kevin Cogan and Rick Mears for the victory.  This “Bowl of Indy Stew” will deal with the night before Day 1 of the race.

This was the last year of general admission for my friends and me.  We moved into the Tower Terrace the next year and have had seats ever since.  Since I was ten years old, we always had the same modus operandi: we would arrive on 16th Street the evening before the race and park across from the track until the gates opened.  We always sent an advance guard through the Turn 2 pedestrian gate at 5:00 AM to hold a spot next to the fence for our cars.  But in 1986, we had a new plan.

After a long negotiation, I convinced an acquaintance working night security at the track to let a friend and me in around midnight.  With our cheap blue canopy in a box under our arms and our hearts pounding in our chests, we walked to the infield assuming a stench of guilt was wafting off us like the aroma of steaming onions at a White Castle.  We set up our canopy in Turn 2 to hold a spot for our cars.  So far so good.  We were on the outside of a few beers and feeling the adrenalin rush of a crime committed.  Around 4:00 AM it started to rain heavily and a number of yellow shirts started taking shelter under our canopy.  We were caught.  Should we confess now or wait and wilt under interrogation at some infield penal colony?  None of the yellow shirts asked why we were there, though.  They didn’t care.  We were keeping them dry.  We were heroes!  We were going to get away with it!  But right before the gates opened, their boss showed up and told them to get their asses to work.  The bomb to open the gates was just moments away.  Our plan was wilting in the pouring rain.  But he just stood under the canopy with us.  After a few uncomfortable moments in his withering glare, he asked what the hell we were doing there.  The words just jumped out of my mouth.  I told him we had worked night security and stayed in for the race after our shift.  He looked at us for a few seconds and said, “Smart.”  Lying is truly performance art.  The bomb to open the gates exploded overhead.  Another race day had begun.

The next helping is on the stove and starting to bubble.  More about Day 1 of the 1986 Indy 500 in the next “Bowl of Indy Stew.”

1.  Chris Sheridan has a site called Indy Soup.  You can also find him on Twitter @indysoupdotcom.  Since my “Indy Stew” feature is similar in name, I checked with him to make sure he was OK with it.  Chris is planning a documentary on the Indy fan experience called What Indy Means.  You can find out more about it at whatindymeans.com and on Twitter @WhatIndyMeans.  Check out his documentary trailer and his back story.  It’s interesting and inspirational.  No kidding.  Do it.

2.  I really wanted to have a breaded tenderloin as part of the title, but Pop Off Valve already uses it.  Mmm…breaded tenderloin.  I also plan to have a feature in May called the “Indy Tenderloin Tour” to help visitors to Indy find the ever elusive and delicious BEST breaded tenderloin in the Indy area.  I am starting my research soon.

Posted in A Bowl of Indy Stew and tagged ,
06 Jan 2012
2 Comments

All the pretty hypocrites

The origin of the word hypocrite goes back to the Greek word hypokrites, a stage actor; one who pretends to be what he is not.  And racing is full of these actors, these hypocrites who mouth platitudes and wring their hands over the plight of IndyCar.  These people who know best (and there are always people who know best) are ready and willing to solve all of IndyCar’s problems, real or perceived.

After the multi-car crash at Las Vegas, the hue and cry to end pack racing rose from everywhere: the media, the fans, and the drivers.  The only voices that ring true are the ones of the drivers.  There is an old adage about a ham and egg breakfast: the chicken is involved, but the pig is committed.  The drivers are committed.  Their opinions are truly the ones that matter.  And we can assume they do not prefer the high-banked 1.5 mile ovals in the current low-horsepower, high-downforce configuration.  But they race them because that’s where the race is on a particular weekend.  They do this most dangerous of jobs for one simple reason: it’s the job they love to do.

Are the fans hypocrites?  Do we expect the drivers to accept an unreasonable level of danger simply because we enjoy the spectacle and the risk?  The answer to both questions is absolutely.  And how often have you heard this justified with a comment along the lines of “The drivers understand the risk” or “If they don’t want to race there, then they can find another job.”  And if not these quotes, then variations on the theme.  Of course the fans are hypocrites.  Most of us would never strap into a race a car a first time, or a second time if we did it a first time.  If our jobs were unduly dangerous, we would be howling to any government agency or union that would listen.  We really don’t have a horse in this particular race.  The drivers should have some input in where and how they race.  And remember, I am an ovalista.  I want IndyCar to find a way to make it fun, fast, and safer on the small ovals. The question for the ones who do know best is how to do it.  And the fans are not the ones who know best.  In this case, the customer might be wrong.

And how about the media?  Don’t get me wrong, the majority of IndyCar media gets it right.  Of course there are not too many of them left.  And that’s a problem.  Marshall Pruett is a steely-eyed missile man.  He researches, he reports, he informs.  And Curt Cavin from the Indy Star is a daily source of info in his blog.  He’s wired in.  He may be the last of a dying breed: an assigned reporter for IndyCar coverage on a daily newspaper.  What can I say about Robin Miller?  IndyCar coverage would miss his passion, knowledge, and even his opinions if he wasn’t around.  Of course, we have “Miller’s Mailbag” and his Greek chorus of Chicken Littles on Speedtv.com, but I read it religiously.  People may disagree with his negativity, but he has both an opinion and a platform.  Can you name another major national publication with a dedicated IndyCar section on its website?  We ought to be happy that someone still cares.  What about Versus and ABC?  Again, I’m happy to have any coverage, but let’s face it, the TV reporters, no matter how good or bad, are just shills.  Their raison d’etre is to attract viewers and increase ratings.

But the media members and outlets that gall me are the ones that deign to pontificate after the fact.  They jump on auto racing with both feet and condemn the series, the tracks, and the fans for being part of a brutal and deadly sport.  Do these same reporters condemn NASCAR for pack racing at Daytona and Talledega?  Do these same TV networks use the possibility of the “Big One” as a lead in?  And I hold a particular distaste for the reporters who do not follow IndyCar in particular or racing in general but use a tragedy like Las Vegas as a platform to get their names attached to a national story by vilifying a series, a promoter, and a track.  Hypocrites all.

The public has a very short memory.  History has shown us this same picture before at Indy: the1958 first lap multi-car accident in Turn Three that took the life of Pat O’Connor, the 1966 first lap multi-car accident, the 1973 first lap accident that sent Salt Walther spinning and spewed fuel into the stands, and the 1982 first lap accident with Kevin Cogan, Mario Andretti, and AJ Foyt.  And we know there will be another.  We know that we cannot legislate complete safety into the sport.  We close our eyes to the fact that IndyCar has not seen its last multi-car accident or its last fatality.  This dark knowledge sits deep inside us as we defend this sport we love.  And that may be the most hypocritical of all.

Posted in Opinions and tagged , ,
28 Dec 2011
4 Comments

The ghosts that follow us

Everyone knew something terrible could happen.  The track was not suitable for an automobile race.  The drivers complained to the officials and the promoter, but it was too late.  The promotions were in place, the tickets were sold, and the crowd was arriving.  The old show business adage held true: “The show must go on.”

And we know how it ended: in the death of a driver.  Cars flew through the air.  The drivers blamed the track, the officials, and the promoter.  And the promoter was new to the game.  He had a rich history of promotion, but no real history in promoting  a race like this.  He was vilified in person and in print.  The news organizations wrote scathing editorials about the evils of racing, comparing it to bullfights and Roman gladiators.  There was even talk of banning this kind of racing.  And the track was unsuitable for this kind of racing.  The drivers, the ones risking their lives, had been spot on with their criticism.  The track had problems with its design.

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?  The place was Indianapolis in 1909.  Carl Fisher, one of the founders of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, was the promoter.  As an automobile salesman and the owner of Prest-O-Lite, a headlight manufacturer, he was well known for his outlandish publicity stunts.  He was a true entrepreneur, risking his own money to build a track and host races.  He didn’t know much about promoting a big time race, but he knew how to excite the crowd.

The track design was unsuitable for racing.  It was a blend of creek gravel, crushed limestone, and taroid.[1]  The track came apart with sharp bits of stone flying through the air, hitting cars and injuring drivers.  Dust created a huge visibility problem.  And a channel appeared in Turn One, creating a huge bump for the cars and leading to one car becoming airborne.[2]

What was the human toll?  In 1909 five people died at IMS: one driver, two riding mechanics, and two spectators.  The lieutenant governor of Indiana lambasted the track and suggested that the governor call a special session of the legislature to debate a ban on auto racing.[3]  The race was fodder for the people who thought they knew best.  And there are always people who think they know best.

But the Speedway survived, and the Indianapolis 500 began in 1911.  Changes were made to the track and the cars.  An evolution in safety began that continues today with the SAFER barriers, HANS devices, and the Holmatro Safety Team.  Tracks, cars, and safety equipment will continue to evolve in this most dangerous of sports.

And now we have Las Vegas.  And the drivers’ concerns.  And Randy Bernard.  And the media.  And a track that had “no limit” to the speed or racing lines.  And like 1909, there will continue to be a gnashing of teeth and a jerking of knees.  But IndyCar and the Speedway will survive.  The IndyCar series will evolve, as will the media and the fans.  And evolve they all must.  In this most dangerous of sports, we cannot excise danger; it is inherent.  The steely-eyed missile men who pilot these rockets will continue to do so with a full understanding of the risk involved.  And the ghosts that follow us will continue to whisper in our ears.  They will always be there, the famous and the forgotten, asking if we are doing all we can to keep the sport safe, asking if we remember their sacrifices.  And like always, we have a choice to listen to the whispers or ignore them.  The historian George Santayana said it best: “Those that cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”  The choice to remember belongs to us all.

1.  This link will take you to the IMS site that shows a core of the track at the Speedway and explains how the track has changed over the years.  Informative.  http://www.indianapolismotorspeedway.com/history/35450-Track-Surface-History/

2.  For a very well researched and informative narrative about Carl Fisher and the years leading up to the first race, read Blood and Smoke by Charles Leerhsen.  His descriptions and quotes from the 1909 debacle make you realize how safe we are today.  The images I used were recounted in his book.  Much of the same information can be found in Al Bloemker’s book 500 Miles to Go.   A link to this free e-book can be found at indycarbuzz.com

3.  Stephen Wylder wrote an interesting historical perspective regarding the post-race responses in 1909.  I found the lieutenant governor information here.  http://www.examiner.com/history-in-indianapolis/aftermath-of-1909-indy-races

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