My grandfather and my Dad took me to The Indianapolis Motor Speedway in 1980 when I was seven years old. I was facinated! Every year that I return to the track in May I have a moment that gives me a lump in my throat. I am so happy to be a part of the biggest and most historic race in the world every May.

My first trip to the track was in 1968 but my first race was 1973, after years of begging to go. We didn’t have a ton of money but my dad got tickets from a friend after the race was postponed twice. Paddock Penthouse. Front row at start/finish. Heaven for an eight-year old kid. That is literally the only time I ever skipped school for anything other than being sick. Despite all the negativity from that year I haven’t missed an Indy 500 since, between going with friends, scrounging freebies, and having my own tix since ’83. I also haven’t missed a qualifying day since 1980 either, much to my wife’s annoyance since 1995 .

My son will see his fourth 500 in a little over two months and he can’t wait either. Like father, like son!

I think what makes someone a lifelong fan of anything is that no matter how many times you go to the track, stadium, arena, whatever, the thrill is the same as the first time you went.

I feel that way anytime I walk into a ballpark (especially Wrigley Field) and I certainly feel that way when I go to Indy. I first went in 1979 when I was 10 and what I felt that day is the same feelings I have when I go in the gates now. I lived in Indy from 1990-94 and at one time was just a mile from the track and drove by it ever day. I remember driving down Georgetown and looking through all of the openings, tunnels, etc just to get a glimpse inside the track. Sometimes I drove into the museum parking lot, turned around and drove back out. Just to be there even for a minute.

While I am a big fan of IndyCar, it all begins and ends with the Speedway for me. It grabbed a hold of me as a little boy and never let go.

Now I am trying to pass that along to my sons, and they are really warming up to it. My 16-year-old will make his second trip to the 500 this year and I am taking my 11-year-old to Milwaukee for his first race. It’s just something that gets in your blood, I guess.

While I began watching midgets and sprints at the old Milwaukee Mile dirt track in the early 50′s, I soon had an opportunity to go to the Indy 500. My uncles and grandparents were Indiana farmers and avid racing fans. (They would race tractors into Rossville)

One of my uncles attached a plywood platform to the top of an old Ford station wagon and would put it in line about three weeks before the race. My dad and I and the other relatives would join him the night before the race. As I recall, at 5 AM a loud cannon would go off and the gates to the infield would open. With everyone careening every which way to get to their favorite spot, that was almost better than the race itself. Keep in mind that most fans had been drinking all night.

In those days you could literally bring almost anything into the infield to watch the race from. One year two guys parked next to us with a front-end loader. They put a couch and a beer cooler in the bucket and had us raise them up.

So for me, it was family tradition, and the sounds, speed and danger that hooked me for life. Vukovich, Bettenhausen, Foyt…….those were men to be in awe of for a young boy. (or girl)

Sheesh! Is it May yet??!!

As a parent of an 11 and 8 year-old who’ve been allowed to try most any activity outside of school, I am just beginning to see that ‘light in their eyes’ moment as well. For sporting events, I’ve hesitated taking them to Indy for anything but practice thus far but they are both ‘champing at the bit’ to get there (much as I was until I was finally allowed to go).

That first race of mine with my family and best friend’s family was one of the most memorable days of my life for most all of the reasons you recount.

I should maybe check “other” in the poll, since for me it wasn’t one specific thing, but the combination of several elements in my life all at once.

One thing going to the 500 also taught me was that there is a reason there are only a handful of truly grand events of sport in this country. Those need to be early on the bucket list to see. No amount of Texas Twin 275s or mid-major college basketball or average day at the horse races or minor PGA events can produce the magic that the most premier events of those sports give.

Good on you for recognizing those moments and reminding us all how sports can and should be a place to bond and unite.

My great-grandfather raced and built midgets and sprint cars and he and his son-in-law, my grandfather, made the trek to Indy in 1965. My father was an amateur motocross racer and attended the 500 in 1991 and 1993 (and 2011 with me!). I was a fan via television until I saw a race live at age 12 because they were fans, with two of my earliest memories being watching Derrick Cope win the Daytona 500 and Arie Luyendyk win Indy in 1990.