Random Thoughts On The Indianapolis 500

For the first time in probably twenty years, I slept for eleven hours Sunday night. We got back to the hotel, grabbed some to-go food, took it back to the room and turned on the broadcast and promptly fell asleep by Lap Five. We took our time Monday morning and finally started the four-hour drive back to Nashville. We stopped at about halfway at a Steak-&-Shake and it seemed like it took almost another eleven hours to eat. I guess they make the third-stringers work on Memorial Day.

Anyway, I did time to watch the DVR race broadcast so that I could get a better feel of the race. Now that I’ve seen it and had a day to reflect on everything, I wanted to get some of my thoughts down before I left on my honeymoon on Tuesday. Not to bring up an old subject, but I feel as I did Sunday that Dario Franchitti didn’t drive Takuma Sato down into the grass on the last lap.

One surprise that I did learn from watching the broadcast was how frightening Mike Conway’s crash was. The video board near our seats is small to begin with. Couple that with sun and you just can’t tell much, except that there was a crash and who was involved. The Speedway could do well to invest in some HD video screens, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon. More on that in a bit.

Although Mike Conway was very lucky to not be seriously injured, I think the most fortunate in that incident was Helio Castroneves. Seeing how he barely missed that tire headed right for him was scary. Had that tire hit him in the head, it could have been disastrous.

Although my pick and personal favorite for this race, Tony Kanaan, didn’t win – I’m still pleased with the way this year’s race turned out. Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever left the track mad. OK, in 1965 I left mad because Parnelli Jones finished second to Jim Clark – but I was six years old. I look at this as more of an event than a win/lose competition. Of course, I have my favorites and there are some I would prefer they didn’t win – but if a driver can win the Indianapolis 500, they’ve earned my respect.

TV coverage: Overall, I was very pleased with the ABC/ESPN telecast. The pre-race show was one of their best. The opening was good, maybe not quite up to last year’s standards – but that would be hard to top. They had good camera angles, the cars looked great in the bright sunlight and I thought their pit work was solid. They have redeemed themselves since their only other telecast this season – that terrible showing at St. Petersburg back in March.

Other than a few flubs from the booth, I thought they did an excellent job – maybe one of their best in years. Minor mistakes from the booth are forgivable. Not that I’ve ever done it, but I hear that live broadcasting can be mind-boggling. we should understand if a car or driver is misidentified every now and then.

On the cheap: Throughout the two weekends I spent at IMS this month, there was this subtle subconscious feeling that things were done a little bit on the cheap this year. I realize that comparing this year to last year is an unfair comparison. All stops were pulled out for the Centennial Celebration last year, but there was this palpable feel of budget cuts throughout the grounds. Last week, I noticed how small the official program had gotten. When I got home from the qualifying weekend, I compared it to some of years past and I was right. It was still as thick, but the dimensions have shrunk. This year’s version is about a half-inch more narrow and a half-inch shorter. I suppose that saves a lot of paper when you consider they probably print close to a half-million programs, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it.

I had a lengthy conversation on Race Day morning with a Yellow Shirt whose location will remain a mystery to not incriminate him. I mentioned that we had noticed many young faces wearing the familiar yellow garb, that didn’t seem to have a clue this year. He told me that the new regime had made many changes to save costs. He revealed that two years ago, his station was manned with six Yellow Shirts at any given time. This year, it’s two. The disgruntled official also explained that many of the “old hands” quit after last year and they have replaced them with “clueless kids” that know nothing and are rude. I can vouch for the rude part. Normally, the Yellow Shirts are very friendly (so long as you’re obeying the rules). Many in this year’s crop seemed to have an attitude.

The merchandise in the gift shop was very ordinary and perhaps for the first time ever, I returned with no souvenirs other than my program. One name that was curiously absent throughout the gift shops was IZOD. Maybe I missed it, but I saw no IZOD apparel at all. The only thing I saw in the gift shop that said “IZOD” was merchandise that had the series logo on it.

This was probably my imagination, but even the bulbs in the scoring pylon looked weak. I’ve been in the same seats during bright sunny days before, and never had a problem reading the numbers. It wasn’t just me. Others around me were having the same problem. Maybe IMS management got a good deal on some cheap bulbs, but it made the information hard to read.

Finally – and this probably has nothing to do with IMS management – I had written earlier about my traditional “meat sandwich” which is (was) a grilled rib-eye on a French roll with peppers and onions. This year, the meat was thinly sliced small pieces placed on a regular hamburger bun. That tradition may have seen it’s last run this year.

Pre-race ceremonies: This may or may not be related to cost-cutting, but the pre-race ceremonies were a major disappointment for me. Being the traditionalist I am about this race, I put a lot of stock in the pre-race ceremonies and there were a lot of minor gaffes. First of all, the PA system was turned up way too loud to handle the singing – it also made Florence Henderson’s rendition of God Bless America sound worse than usual.

There was also a rushed and disjointed feel to what can be my favorite part of the day. At the track, PA announcer Dave Calabro introduced Martina McBride to sing the National Anthem. Then there was a long pregnant pause before she started singing. On television, Brent Musburger tried to hand it off to Calabro but McBride started singing.

The traditional singing of Back Home Again In Indiana was as awkward as I expected it would be. They tried using a recording in 2007 when Jim Nabors couldn’t make it and it didn’t go well. I’m not sure why they thought this would be any different. It wasn’t. The balloons usually fly when the song is singing. Someone apparently missed the cue, because they didn’t turn them loose until the cars were already rolling.

The one highlight was the video honoring Dan Wheldon just before the playing of Taps. It was tasteful and moving. Then when Bryan Herta took to the track during Taps, even my dry eyes felt a little moisture. In my opinion, that one moment saved the day for the pre-race ceremonies.

All in all: The race itself was tremendous. With all of the questions going in about the new cars, the durability of the engines and the engine shortages – who knew what to expect? But except for a lull after Bryan Clausen’s spin, it was a very entertaining race. With a record number of lead changes, this was certainly no parade. The last thirty laps were about as engaging was you could hope for. Then with the excitement of the last lap, this one will certainly be one remembered and talked about for a long time.

George Phillips

Please Note: This will be my last post for several days. Early Tuesday morning, we are hopping on a plane to begin our belated honeymoon. We delayed it by a week to attend the Indianapolis 500, but I think it would lead to a quick divorce if I were to blog throughout my honeymoon. Therefore, I will take the rest of this week off from here and part of the following week as well. I’m not sure what next week holds, but I may sneak in a post right after the Belle Isle race. Anyway, thanks for following along here during the month of May. I’m already looking forward to next year.

Another Last Lap Thriller

There were many, myself included, that followed the school of thought that this year’s race would fall short of the excitement generated by Dan Wheldon’s improbable victory. While it certainly wasn’t as much of a stretch for Chip Ganassi Racing to win the Indianapolis 500 as it was for Bryan Herta Autosport – this race did not lack for drama. There was the excitemnt of the last thirty laps where it seemed that anyone could win. There was also plenty of heartbreak. Ed Carpenter spun while charging to the front in the late going. Then, there was Takuma Sato’s last-lap crash while going for the lead – essentially handing the win to Dario Franchitti.

But Franchitti did not back into this win – quite the contrary. He earned this win. After spinning in the pits on Lap Fifteen, the Nashville area resident rejoined the field at the back of the pack. The Honda engine was strong today and Franchitti started picking off cars immediately. I kept seeing car No. 50 consistently climb the scoring pylon. Soon, it was Dario and Dixon up front. This was not a clever pit strategy – Dario was at the rear of the field and passed cars in earnest and worked his way up. This was no fluke.

I used to be a Franchitti fan when he ran in CART and during his Andretti-Green days, but when he crossed over to the evil empire of Chip Ganassi Racing and grew his hair – I’ve found it hard to cheer for him. But I can certainly appreciiate his greatness. In his last five 500’s, Franchitti has won three times. He has also won the series championship every year he has driven in the series since 2007. We are witnessing greatness.

Which brings me to my next point. I have been coming to this track for a long time – a very long time. Since 1965, I’ve seen more races than I care to count – even though I had a twenty year span where I saw no races here. In all that time, I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard an Indianapolis 500 winner booed as he took the checkered flag – until today, that is. Franchitti was not my first choice to win the race, but as he crossed the line under yellow to clinch his third victory here – I applauded and cheered as more of a salute. I was one of the few. My section in the Pit Road Terrace was filled with boo-birds, who booed mightily as Dario drove past our section waving his fist in celebration. It seemed that it was the same across the track in Stand A.

Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I never once thought about booing Franchitti or any other winner that I wasn’t a fan of. Emerson Fittipaldi received plenty of boos when he initially refused to drink the milk in 1993, but that was a different situation. Fans felt he was being disrespectful to the traditions of the Indianapolis 500. Dario Franchitti has embraced this place and respected all of the traditions of the race we cherish. He is a world class driver and I was more than just a little disturbed to see a three-time winner booed for doing his job. As I type, I’ve just had it suggested to me that the replays show Dario drove Takuma Sato in to the grass. I just saw the replay and I don’t think so. Maybe that was the reason for the boos, but I still think it was uncalled for. At least he wasn’t pelted with beer cans like he would have been at a NASCAR race.

My pick for the race, and the one I was personally pulling for, was Tony Kanaan. He gave the place a thrill as he went from fifth to first on a re-start on Lap 187. It wouldn’t last, though. Marco Andretti brushed the wall, bringing out another caution. I told the crew I was sitting with that  would feel more comfortable with Kanaan in second, rather than leading. As it turned out, I was right. Franchitti blew past him on the next restart. He ultimately finished third, but received probably the biggest ovation of the day when he took the lead. This wasn’t his best chance to win this race, but his opportunities are running out. I’m hoping that Tony Kanaan will not retire as a member of the Lloyd Ruby club. I’m hoping that he will eventually win one of these things.

The heat and four hours sleep is starting to catch up with me, and I’ve got a ways to go to get to our hotel, so I will wrap this up for now. Chances are, this will more than likely be my last post of the day. I’m going to go back and watch some of the replay on Channel 6, but I’ll probably fall asleep rather quickly. It will be tomorrow before I watch the DVR to see what i saw. I may or may not have something here tomorrow, but I will have a recap and final thoughts either Monday or Tuesday. Then I’ll take a sabbatical for a week or more as I go on my honeymoon. But count on one more post regarding the 96th running of the Indianapolis 500. Thanks for checking in all day. it was a heck of a race.

George Phillips

Boy, Is It Hot?

Susan and I just did our pit walk this morning. They were just starting to grid the cars on the track, but we walked freely on the track while the mob was milling about in the pits. As usual, I enjoyed it very much and it provided some much needed solitude after a hectic morning.

I think in the short time we were out there, the temperature rose ten degrees. It is now no longer pleasant. In fact, the heat and humidity is stifling at 10:30. I can’t imagine what it will be like at 3:00.

I was glad to see that John McLallen made it to our seats. He is bringing his twelve year-old son Jack to his first Indianapolis 500. I hope his is as memorable as mine was at age six.

We’re about to head to the car to go get the cooler and head to our seats. It’s almost time. I won’t have anymore posts until after the race. Enjoy the race, everyone. I know I will. Check back this afternoon.

George Phillips

Good Morning From IMS

We had a fairly uneventful trip into the track this morning, which is a massive improvement over last year’s fiasco. We did have a verbal altercation with a young, over-zealous police officer. I generally support our law-enforcement officials, but when I merely asked why we couldn’t make the same right-hand turn we’ve always made from Kessler Blvd. onto 16th Street – I was greeted with a barrage of remarks saying he wasn’t going to put up with my attitude and I had to go to the end of the line on 16th. Of course, I waited until I was driving off to get my jabs in – but he recognized me when we got back up to the intersection one hour later. He purposely held us as he allowed the other lane to contine. He then glared as we drove through the intersection and Susan snapped his evil picture. not long after that, we actually heard gunshots behind us. We figured someone else said the wrong thing and he got even. He will have a long and miserable day with that mindset.

our grouop is all here except for John McLallen – my best man last week and my One Take Only cohort. When we got in the line of traffic at 5:30, I called him to ask where he was. I woke him up. We may see him by Lap 150.

OK…we’re finally up here in the media center, where we’ve renewed acquaintances with fellow bloggers we haven’t seen since Race Day of last year. The media center is all abuzz this morning. As I type, IMS CEO Jeff Belskus, INDYCAR CEO Randy Bernard and all other top brass are announcing that the series is extending the contract with ApexBrasil – one of the strongest supporters of our series. The newest contract will now run through 2014. This is big in a lot of ways. It lends stability to continue a strong relationship, but it will also help to grow this sport in Brazil.

The weather for today is on everyone’s mind. The hottest race day on record is 93-degrees in 1937, when Wilbur Shaw beat the heat and the field on his way to victory. It was a very pleasant 72-degrees driving in this morning, but it is supposed to hit 95 before the race is over. Our cooler is stocked with more Gatorade than Coke or adult beverages in anticipation. I feel pretty good right now despite the fact that we didn’t get back to the hotel from a wedding (not ours) until 11:00. We got up at 3:30. However, the heat later on will take it’s toll – especially since our seats are behind the pits and in the sun.

We’re about to go roam and do my pit walk. I love this time of day at the track. Check back in a bit.

George Phillips

It’s Finally Race Day!

Hopefully, by the time you read this – we’ll be safely ensconced inside the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. That would also mean that we did not have a repeat of last year’s fiasco when, for whatever reason, I missed my exit and got ourselves lost in some business park way too far from the track. I wished I had someone to blame, but I don’t. No one was talking. There were no distractions. I just blindly drove past the same exit I have navigated for years in my treks to the track. We finally arrived at the track around 9:45, with yours truly not in the best of moods (I was in a rage).

While anxiously awaiting the first Oilpressure.com post of the day (that was sarcasm, by the way), I thought I might bore you with what has become my typical routine on Race Day. Since yesterday’s post about my typical Saturday was so thrilling, logic would say this would keep your attention even more. If you fall asleep while reading this, make sure you wake up before the race.

There is something special about Race Day morning. It looks, sounds, feels and smells the same as it did when I was growing up in the sixties. Unless you’ve been here on race morning, it’s impossible to understand what I’m talking about. There is an unmistakable buzz that permeates the grounds here at 7:00am. It used to be the late Tom Carnegie’s voice booming on the PA to greet you as you got out of your car. Nowadays it is Dave Calabro that leaves no doubt as to where you are.

The elaborate grill setups that fans put together are already cooking steaks, chicken and brats. Even if you weren’t hungry when you left the hotel at some un-Godly hour, the smell of whatever those in Turn Three are grilling will certainly make your mouth water. One of my early Race Day traditions has been to go to the same little booth under the Tower Terrace to buy my annual “meat sandwich”. I’m not sure when or who started calling it that, but it fits. It’s really a rib-eye sandwich loaded with grilled onions, red & green peppers and mushrooms. I will eat a tenderloin sandwich at some point today, but the meat sandwich is a great way to wake up the taste buds first thing in the morning.

If all goes to plan, I will head up to the media center to put up a post just to let both of my readers know I made it safely inside the track and that all is well. Then ‘ll head out to check everything out.

One of the perks of being a lowly blogger is that we get pit and garage access on race morning. I’ve quickly developed a relatively new tradition of walking pit lane from one end to another, while taking my time. The earlier I can do this, the better. With all of the hustle and bustle of getting into the track, lugging stuff to our seats and dealing with crowds that are increasing by the minute – it’s one of the few places this morning where I can find solitude. As I stroll through pit lane, I always wonder who used each pit. Am I standing where the crew of Bill Vukovich anxiously awaited in for their great champion to come around on that fateful Lap 56 in the 1955 race? Where was it that Rick Mears was set ablaze in a frightening methanol fire in 1981? Which stall was it where Lloyd Ruby pitted while leading in 1969, only to inch forward with the fuel hose still attached – ripping a gaping hole in his fuel tank and ending his chance to win?

As my thoughts drift to races from past years, the flurry of activity for today’s race will generally jolt me back into reality. As we get closer to the start of the race, the cars start heading from the pits to their respective spots on the starting grid. Each year, I’m reminded of my lowly blogger status as I try and sneak onto the track itself. Sometimes, I’m stopped before I can get out there. Other times, I’m mingling around the teams making final preparations before a Yellow Shirt will notice that I don’t have “those” credentials that allow me to be out there. Sometimes they smile, other times they bark – but I always leave the forbidden area with a smile on my face thinking that it was worth a try. At least I get a few good pictures out there.

As the time for the traditional ceremonies draw near, I’ll head back up to the media center one last time before the race. It’s generally frowned upon to wear apparel in the media center that says you are pulling for a particular driver or team, so I generally wear something that says Oilpressure.com, the IZOD IndyCar Series or something sporting the wing & wheel logo of the Speedway. When I finally head to my seats and rejoin my group, I’ll switch into my Marlboro Team Penske shirt –which I’ve worn to every Indianapolis 500 since I can’t even remember when. I wear that shirt one day a year. I wonder how long it’ll last before it rots.

As hot as it’s supposed to be today, I’ll probably change into my third shirt of the day before heading back up to the media center to write a post after the race. I know some of the bloggers stay in the air-conditioned media center to watch the race and post throughout. That’s great if that works for them. As tempting as the air-conditioning may be today, I just wouldn’t feel like I attended an Indianapolis 500 if I didn’t watch it from the stands – and I’m certainly not going to be plugged into a keyboard during the race.

I can remember while growing up, my father couldn’t get us out of the track fast enough after the race. On Lap 190, he already had us gathering our things. When the checkered flag fell, that was our cue to dash for the exits. I can actually remember Bobby Unser’s victory lap in 1968, taking place while we were already under the grandstands and making our escape. Things are different now that I call the shots. I like to stay at our seats and watch the Victory Lane presentation on the video boards and watch the winning driver ride around in the Pace Car.

When the stands have emptied out, that’s when I go to the media center to write a wrap up. By that time, the winning team is already in the interview room and the interview is piped in over the speakers where we sit. I’ve also had time to gather my thoughts about what I just witnessed and type some of them out. Of course, I won’t really know what I saw until I get home and fire up the DVR.

Although the race could be over around 3:30 Eastern time, we generally don’t leave the track until after 6:00. Part of that is because I’m writing, but it’s also because I don’t want to leave. I want to sit and savor it all just a little bit longer. After all, I’ve been dreaming of this for the past year and it’ll be another fifty-one weeks before I’m back on this hallowed ground for qualifying for the 97th running of the Indianapolis 500.

By this time, the adrenaline rush has worn off and the fact that I’ve had very little sleep starts catching up to me. I’m tired – very tired. It’s not unusual for my eyelids to get heavy on the way back to our hotel. We’ll go grab a bite to eat and I’ll sit like a zombie as I eat it. Then, it’s back to the hotel to watch the taped-delayed broadcast on Channel 6. At this point, I rarely last more than twenty laps before I’m snoring away. I will wake up whenever I wake up – go eat the free breakfast downstairs, take a shower and then hit the road for a four hour drive back to Nashville. This year, when we get home, we get to unpack, do laundry, repack and hop on a plane the next morning to start our delayed honeymoon.

If you’ve made it this far through this long and rambling diatribe, it’s probably time to refresh to see if my next post is there. I hope I didn’t bore you, but what else is there to read about as you wait for the telecast to start? OK – go get another cup of coffee. Back in a bit.

George Phillips

The Day Before The 500

I suppose it’s a function of my advanced age, but it took me several days to recover from last weekend at IMS. Of course, we didn’t quite follow the regular routine that we normally would on qualifying weekend. Fast Friday was probably may have been more stressful for me than it was for the drivers or teams – as we were running around like crazy, picking people up at the airport and taking care of last-minute details for our wedding at the track. When it was over, it came off practically without a hitch, but there were a few minor and comical flubs that probably made things more memorable. Still, the whole ordeal had us both exhausted throughout the rest of the weekend as well as this past week as we returned to jobs and reality for a few days.

A Labor Of Love

By Susan Phillips

There are not too many people in your life who would drop everything with two weeks notice to be with you on one of the most important days of your life. But that was how it was with our friends who attended our wedding at IMS last weekend. I’m going to focus on MY friends this time, even though John McLallen (the best man) and I, became fast friends, as we share the same warped sense of humor. We laughed a lot about “How the cow ate the cabbage” (meaning found here). But I suspect John would have jumped at the chance to attend qualifying even if we had to strap him to the top of the car.