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22 Apr 2012
3 Comments

Are the Mayans to blame for turbo wars?

The Mayans have been on my mind lately.  The mythology that has sprung up about their calendar truly provides food for thought. [1]  Why exactly did the Mayan calendar end in 2012?  Did modern pop culture simply add meaning that wasn’t there?  What the heck does this have to do with IndyCar?  Allow me to explain.

After deep and difficult research of the available texts and maybe a little spin through the internet, I have arrived at the possible reasons the Mayan calendar ends in December, 2012:

  • That’s the date the aliens arrive.  Have you ever noticed how the carving on King Pakal’s sarcophagus looks like a space ship? [2]  Chariots of the Gods, indeed.
  • The great calendar writer, whoever it was, fell down one of those damn pyramids.  Experts are sometimes difficult to replace.
  • The great calendar writer finished the cycle that ends in 2012 and said, “Well, that’s it.  Let’s go get a beer.”  Isn’t it possible that the job was over?  He was probably working on contract.  Many writers are freelance, you know.
  • The Mayans got their asses kicked by drought, disease, or the Spanish and were a little too busy to update the calendar.  Missed deadlines happen.

What do the Mayans have to do with the IndyCar turbo problem?  I think we can find some connections.  Here we sit in 2012 trying to figure out what happened two thousand years ago.  It seems the Mayans wrote a calendar, but did not take any notes as they did it so future generations would be able to know exactly what was happening at the time.  Didn’t those guys have a scribe or something?  In today’s IndyCar version, Tony Cotman is our modern Mayan calendar guy.  He was so wrapped up in turbo talk that he managed to lose the notes of what seems to be a very important meeting.  According to Honda, when the engine manufacturers were meeting in 2010 to determine the rules, an agreement was reached among the builders that would allow a Borg-Warner turbo that was underperforming to be upgraded.  Honda had it in their notes.  Apparently, Chevrolet was not taking notes or chose not to write this down.  Chevrolet (read: Roger Penske) was dumfounded when Honda asked to upgrade their turbo to be more competitive.  That conversation NEVER took place.  If it did, it would be in the rules.  And it was NOT in the rules.  What could have happened?

Tony the Mayan lost his notes.  Or something.  We are still waiting for a clear explanation.  In any case, some people might say it’s amateur hour once again at 16th and Georgetown.  I don’t blame Roger the Conqueror for insisting that Honda follow the written rules.  I would, however, find it distasteful if the turbo fix was discussed and agreed upon and Chevrolet is pulling the “it never happened” card.  Then again, what would IndyCar be without backstabbing, bitching, and gamesmanship? It has always been part of racing’s DNA.

Even with Chevrolet’s continued protest, it looks like Honda will be allowed their turbo upgrade.  If that happens, Honda and the fans are winners.  If Chevrolet gets its way, then the opinions of Sarah Fisher and A.J. Foyt ring true.  After the shunt at Long Beach, @SarahFisher tweeted, “Politics.  Love it.”  And Robin Miller quoted A.J. on Speed.com saying it best when commenting on the turbo issue, “This ain’t about racin’ this is about politics.’’  Here’s my prediction:  If Chevrolet gets its way on the protest, then the IndyCar world we have been seeing emerge begins to unravel.  And if that happens, then I am canceling my 2012 New Year’s Eve plans because the myth of the Mayan calendar may just be fact.

1.  An overview of the Mayan calendar and the modern corruption of the meaning.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2012_phenomenon

2.  Proof?  Here it is.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%27inich_Janaab%27_Pakal

Posted in Opinions and tagged , ,
16 Apr 2012
4 Comments

New Track Record’s Ten Worthless Opinions – The Grand Prix of Long Beach

I’ve been cogitating on a quote to describe the racing at the Grand Prix of Long Beach (or #TGPLB as their PR flak shrilly demanded on Twitter).  The best I can come up with is Kramer’s review of a novel for Elaine on Seinfeld:

“Well, it’s a story about love, deception, greed, lust and..unbridled enthusiasm…You see, Elaine, Billy was a simple country boy. You might say a cockeyed optimist who got himself mixed up in the high stakes game of world diplomacy and international intrigue.”

OK, the world diplomacy and international intrigue is really the F1 situation in Bahrain, but I think I can finesse the others into my Ten Worthless Opinions.

1.  Robin Miller has moved to the top of my list.  At Barber, he interrupted the prayer.  Last time, I called his grid run half-assed and asked that NBC Sports add additional ass.  It seems my pleas have been ignored.  If anything, ass has been deleted.  Maybe the reason ass for Robin Miller is in such short supply is because Charles Barkley has convinced everyone to go to Weight Watchers.  I don’t know.  NBC Sports, once again I ask you to have an intern or SOMEBODY produce that segment.  Maybe you could speak to the teams before the race to let them know that Robin is planning on his grid run.  Perhaps you could verify that the drivers are IN THE PITS FOR THE SEGMENT and not still tooling around the track for introductions.  Now, I have observed that Robin is dressing better now that NBC is in charge.  That’s a nice shirt.  Very professional.  But lose the sunglasses when you are in the booth with Kevin Lee.  Here’s some free advice.  If you really want to dress Robin appropriately for this segment, try big floppy shoes and a bright red nose.  You are already making him look like a freaking clown.  Unless this unintentional comedy is part of a bigger, secret plan to make us laugh.  Then carry on.  (Kramer quote connection: deception)

2.  Kramer said the book was about “unbridled enthusiasm.”  That about sums up Josef Newgarden’s move on Dario Franchitti in turn 1.  I guess you could say that Newgarden was a “cockeyed optimist” when he thought a turn 1 outside move on the first lap was his best chance to win an 85 lap race.  My opinion?  We need more cockeyed optimism. (Kramer quote connection: unbridled enthusiasm and cockeyed optimism)

3.  Does anyone have a problem with the starts?  They seemed acceptable to me.  I’m sure someone wants them to be perfect.  I just like the fact the drivers seem to be attempting to do it.  We’ll see if a bad one gets waved off.  Stay tuned.

4.  Townsend Bell gets better and better.  I think he likes the gig.  Two things he said stood out: “gnarly” and “twenty-six of my fellow wack jobs behind me.”  Where else are you going to hear that?  Keep this guy.  Lindy who?

5.  Finally, the new breed is back to finger-pointing and complaining.  I don’t know whose fault Marco’s shunt was; it doesn’t matter.  The fact that blame cannot be squarely assigned makes this drama more entertaining.  Graham Rahal said that Marco Andretti hit him from behind. Marco said that Graham “chopped” him and could have killed him.  After hearing this Graham said that was to be expected from someone with that last name.  THIS is the soap opera we have been waiting for.  Whiners, start your bitching.

6.  It appears the honeymoon is over for Beaux Barfield.  He’s making calls and people are reacting.  Sucks to be Ryan Hunter-Reay, E.J. Viso, and Simona De Silvestro doesn’t it.  Personally, I have no problem with any of his rulings because the new transparency lets us know that the race director is reviewing a situation and actually making a ruling.  If you watched IndyCar 36, you know Graham Rahal was a little cranky with Beaux about qualifying at Barber.  Be prepared for more grousing about blocking.  The fur will fly when Beaux hangs a penalty on a certain Brazilian or someone with the last name Andretti.  And you just know it’s going to happen. *rubbing hands in anticipation*

7.   All the problems with the motors has created controversy, conversation, and conflict.  That’s good, right?  We want the competitors talking and the media buzzing.  It makes us watch every lap and every puff of smoke.

8.  Twitter BLEW UP when Marco Andretti went airborne after contact with  Graham Rahal.  The armchair engineers had all they needed to categorically state that the new rear bumpers do not work.  I will use my daughter’s favorite response to my idiotic musings: Really?  One inconclusive camera angle proved it.  Damn, I wish I had a degree from your school.  You be smart.

9.  I give NBC Sports a B+ for this broadcast.  It seems to be much more difficult to position cameras at street courses as opposed to road courses.  It might have something to do with, you know, all those BIG BUILDINGS.  But it would have been nice to see the penalties on Viso and De Silvestro.

10.  I truly appreciate those who can work it to “accidentally” be in frame on a national TV broadcast.  Kudos this week to Chris Sheridan who blogs at IndySoup.com and can be found @indysoupdotcom on Twitter.  Here in Indiana we have a term for that kind of grin, Chris.  Something about ingesting feces.  Good on, ya.  See you at Indy.

I understand that I did not connect every WO to the Seinfeld quote.  If you see how I missed one, please let me know.  I hope these opinions are as worthless to you as they are to me.

Posted in 10 Worthless Opinions and tagged , ,
08 Apr 2012
1 Comment

New Track Record’s Ten Worthless Opinions – Honda Indy Grand Prix of Alabama

DISCLAIMER:  Yes, this post is exactly one week late.  I know this.  Please refrain from pointing it out to me.  I have been on a lonely mountain in West Virginia without cable or phone service.  After leaving the mountain severely sunburned, I visited relatives in the Washington, D.C. area and will toss in a few worthless opinions regarding that.

I watched the race on Sunday, April 8.  Please pretend the race just happened at Barber and that I did not read any other blogs or news services regarding said race.  Today’s post is a time machine, if you will.  And the opinions are still worthless, but I proudly present them to you.

1.  NBC Sports must have read my last post!  They used intro music that had a pumping beat that might actually, you know, WAKE YOU UP.  Kudos.  Now, how about grid girls?  I cannot emphasize this enough.

2.  I know it was reported that the ratings for the race were way down.  Understood.  Accepted.  But I counted 26 different ads during the broadcast.  True, some of them were NBC Sports advertising its own programming, but most were not.  How many times on Versus last year did we watch the same Firestone, IZOD, Honda, and Versus ads over and over?  Not this time.  I’m guessing the marketing department for NBC swings a bigger stick than Versus and are anticipating (and can live with) a loss as the network ramps up.  And Bob Jenkins mentioned the sponsors on the cars multiple times.  Gee, who thought of that.  Maybe they can become broadcast sponsors, too.  I truly believe that IndyCar and hockey are positioned to be cornerstone properties of the network.  Please get the lemmings off the ledge.  To quote Kevin Bacon from Animal House, “Remain calm!  All is well!” [1]

3.  I love Bitchin’ Bob Jenkins.  Really.  He makes me laugh.  From the race, we have the following: a. “Newt cars”  b. “Grand pee”  c.  “Barber Spartan Park.” d.  “Helio Castro.”  You can’t make that stuff up.  Unless you’re Bob Jenkins, that is.

4.  Speaking of announcers, I am going to make a very unpopular comment:  I like Kevin Lee on the prerace much more than I liked Lindy Thackston.  That is not to say that I had anything against Lindy Thackston.  She was perky, pretty, and perfectly fine.  But Kevin Lee is better.   He is more knowledgeable and a much better interviewer.  In my WO, the broadcast is improved.  Feel free to disagree.

5.  Robin Miller needs a handler or a producer or something.  His grid run was a joke.  Do it or don’t do it.  The potential is there for a fun and interesting segment.  Right now it’s half-assed.  NBC Sports, please add additional ass.  And Robin, saying “hell” multiple times does not make you edgy.

6.  Marty Snider and Townsend Bell were fine in the pits.  Jon Beekhuis always tells me something new.  The info about the pedals, while not thrilling, was informative.  Look, I’m a fan of minutia.  I like the esoteric.  Jon Beekhuis completes me.

7.  Oh,  yeah.  The cars raced.  I mean they really raced.  They passed for position on the track.  They defended.  Or blocked.  Whatever.  They nudged each other.  It was fun to watch.  I think that’s what the networks, fans, and drivers want, right?  Most fans like to see the drivers mix it up.  I’m still waiting for a WWE type heel to emerge.  Marco Andretti, IndyCar’s CM Punk, is the favorite to fill that role.  If  these comments confuse you, then you need to watch Wrestlemania or see my post called “Can you smell what IndyCar is cookin’?”

8.  The camera angles on the cars were great.  ABC take note:  the viewers like to actually see things.  Complicated, it’s not.  This is not long division.

9.  NBC Sports showed passing throughout the pack and throughout the race.  Hint:  keep doing this.  Believe it or not, many race fans actually like to see racing.  Don’t over think it.

10.  Here are some WO’s if you plan to visit the Washington, DC area.  If you are at a bar and they make a point of posting the ABV (alcohol by volume) of their beers, TAKE NOTE.  It becomes important later in the evening.  Also, a trip to the open-air seafood restaurants at the docks on the Potomac is recommended if you don’t mind waiting.  And waiting.  The spicy peel-and-eat shrimp and the gumbo were both quite tasty.  A recommendation: see the Smithsonian American Art Museum. [2]  Currently showing are Annie Leibovitz: Pilgrimage and The Art of Video Games.  Culture is what separates the IndyCar fan from the NASCAR fan.  Get some.

___________________________

1.  Here’s Kevin Bacon talking to IndyCar fans regarding the TV ratings.  It was, I believe, his first film role.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDAmPIq29ro

2.  In case you want to check out the American Art Museum’s offerings.  http://americanart.si.edu/

Posted in 10 Worthless Opinions and tagged , , ,
19 Mar 2012

Connecting to a new audience, one snail at a time

I watched a great show in Indy the other night.  It was a motor sport series with rabid fans, multiple manufacturers, a support/ladder series, activated sponsors, articulate racers, and a young, edgy vibe.  I only wish it was IndyCar.  The show I saw had edge-of-your-seat passing, a mad dash to turn 1 at the start, and all the danger and excitement you can handle.  That’s right, folks.  I saw the Supercross race at Lucas Oil Stadium.  And you can quote me here: WOW!  How does this series do it?  I’ve got a few thoughts.

I have to give IndyCar and Randy Bernard credit: the animated movie Turbo is a HUGE step in the right direction to engage and activate a demographic that up until now was given the option of a die-cast IndyCar or nothing.  It’s time to trend young.  And Supercross has already cut a pretty big piece of that pie.

The leg up with Supercross (or any motorcycle series) is that you can go buy the product and run it on the street.  Advantage to the two wheelers.  They sell the product they race.  At the MotoGP race in Indy, every manufacturer and vendor was activated.  From the grid girls for every product to the three and four year old kids in racing suits tooling around a small track, there was something for everyone.  That dynamic is absolutely missing in IndyCar.  The MotoGP vendors are not just trying to make a sale today, they are trying to create a consumer for life.  IndyCar and its sponsors need to take a lesson.

We tend to gravitate to those who resemble us.  IndyCar is getting that, moving to young drivers like James Hinchcliffe , Josef Newgarden, and Marco Andretti.  We need the youth.  Supercross racers are all young, or at least they look and act like it.  Let’s face it, IndyCar drivers are more like a college fraternity: cool and stylish.  The Supercross riders are the hell-raisers that flunked out after the first semester of college.  They were having too much fun to worry about class.  Honestly, kids dig that vibe.  The term is “edgy.”

Supercross owns Saturday night on Speed TV.  All the races are televised.  You know where to find them. While IndyCar struggles to find a time where they are not competing with NASCAR and football, Supercross carved out a niche.  And like IndyCar, Supercross is a niche series.  They just do it better than IndyCar.  Their 17 week season runs from January in the warm weather outdoor stadiums, through the indoor football stadiums, to the main stretch at Daytona, and to the last race at Las Vegas in May.  I am not suggesting that IndyCar follow this same schedule.  It’s impossible to do so.  But IndyCar does need to start its season earlier in the year and find times and dates when they are the only show in town.

Supercross is not without its controversy.  There is conflict between the stadium circus and the summer circuit, particularly when it comes to sponsorship dollars.  It’s worth noting that Monster Energy is the title sponsor for Supercross and Lucas Oil products, along with Red Bull, are the primary sponsors of the summer series.  It would be nice to have those big boys doing some of the heavy lifting in IndyCar, wouldn’t it?  And the demographics of the series are why we don’t.  Old guys like me don’t drink enough Monster or Red Bull.  I do wear IZOD sport shirts, shorts, khakis, and socks, though.  That just screams PARTY!

Supercross has figured out its people.  They are young and Supercross markets to them.  They connect.  I have a strong belief that the marketing department at IndyCar is figuring out a way to connect with that young audience.  I guess a speedy snail is a good start.

Posted in Opinions and tagged , , | Leave a comment
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 , ,
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 ,

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