Race One, Race Won

Sao Paulo is in the books and despite the myriad many obstacles conspiring to obfuscate, the race itself was quite enjoyable to watch. I will summarize my fave part of the race and issue yellow flags (issues of concern), red flags (lowlights), and green flags (highlights) for other points of note.
It’s no secret that I am an oval fan primarily, but I was particularly impressed with the amount of actual passing and racing going on the track itself. The drivers and fans by most all accounts seemed to have the same opinion, leaving me with no choice but to be more open to street courses (properly done) as a viable venue for IndyCar. I much prefer the rolling and scenic nature of the road course to city streets, but not always are roads the best option for tracks that turn right as well as left (I will say that I plan to maintain great disdain for airport circuits, when American classics like Road America or Laguna Seca are not employed).
As for the track action itself, many interesting stories emerged, but to me the defining moment of the race was when 2nd place Ryan Hunter-Reay and 3rd Will Power (who was fighting to overcome severe hand blisters) applied enough pressure on leader Ryan Briscoe to lapse slightly in concentration and slide into the tire barrier at the end of the long back straight. Hunter-Reay lead for several laps following and then it was Power’s turn to make a classic pass under late braking for the lead with 2 laps to go.

Yellow Flags:

– Mario Moraes not coming out and admitting his mistake right away.
– Subpar TV production quality (some things out of VS control I understand, others like announcers talking over each other, not).

 Red Flags:

– Jack Arute trying to be funny. Just analyze, don’t try to be all things.
– Pop-up terrential thunderstorms.
– No back up power systems for race control.
– First lap, first corner wrecks.  Come on people.

Green Flags:

– Simona DeSilvestro leading for several laps.
– Seeing 7 different teams in the top 10.
– Brazil’s fans supporting and enjoying the race.
– Brazil’s track people working to grind the concrete deep into the night
– Everyone racing cleanly (from what I saw).
Enjoyable street race? Yes, I guess it was. 
Race won on the track and not in the pits? Awesome!
Mind opened slightly again? Yes.
The older I get, the less I realize that I know.

Synopsis, Part Deux – The End of the Beginning

My second (and fate-sealing) interaction with the Speedway was to see the race in person in 1979.  I anticipated that day much like most any Christian kid did with the coming of Christmas morning.  The wait for that day was nearly interminable, but the day arrives and our journey begins.

Sparing the day’s travel details, We found our seats in the first row of L-South stand bleachers.  L-South (gone years ago to the expansion of the mighty aluminum L-Stand) was deemed a great raceday value by my father and I’d have to say that he was right but not exactly for the reasons he surmised.  His reasoning was that we were seeing the cars at top speed but paying less than half of the price for the seats corresponding to our location which was the outside of Turn 1.

My reasons became immediately apparent on the first green flag lap.  We were a scant 18 feet away from the outside wall of the track at the point where the cars have reached top speed on the backstretch and are beginning the entrance to Turn 3.  He was right about the speed.  I’m fairly sure that he had no idea the extent of sensory-loading that would occur by being that close to the track.  My friend and I were 11 years old and, by all parental reports, were the quietest they’d ever seen us during those opening laps of the 1979 race.

Anticipation had finally given way when Tom Carnegie came over the PA system announcing the green flag had fallen.  Cheers went up in L-South and all around, followed by a quickly hushed anticipation of the coming cars.  I very distinctly recall the following moments and think about them most fondly on raceday each year.

I’m not sure I will ever understand fully the extent of the impact those moments had on me, but the result was clear – I had become and Indy 500 fanatic.  The crowd sound swelled from the large L-stand whose view directly down the backstretch signaled the coming onslaught of machines.  I recall the bleachers vibrating slightly followed immediately by the crescendo of screaming Cosworth, AMC, Offenhauser, and Drake-Goossen-Spark, motors and an overwhelming wave of sensory loading culimnating in the decrescendo of motor noise and the sweet, pungent smell of burnt ethanol.  In approximately 9 seconds, I had felt, heard, seen, and smelled the most powerful things ever before in my life.  I could hardly wait the remaining 36 seconds for the leaders to come back around and experience it again.

That brief moment and the following events were so powerful, I would long for that day to arrive every year.  In the years I couldn’t attend, I listened even more intently than ever before recalling that beautiful, sunny, Indiana day when the 33 (plus 2 due to the USAC-CART legal wranglings that year) cars shook my senses to the extreme.  To this day, I still cannot imagine a sporting event having more impact on me than May 27, 1979.