How Tennis Confirmed That I Could Never Drive an Indycar

I play sports as a way to get some exercise, but more as a way to challenge myself and assess my skills. I love to compete – fairly, cleanly, honestly. I play many sports for the competitive aspects or for the enjoyment of learning a sport new to me, but one sport I play simply for the fun of it is tennis. 

Currently my Monday nights are filled with a group of mixed doubles players that originated over 20 years ago. Only one of the original couples from that bunch still plays. They went from being the youngest couple at inception of this group to being the most senior couple currently playing. I’ve been playing with this bunch for about 9 years and am now in the upper half of ages now.

I find myself most excited about chasing down impossible ‘gets’ and returning them, to the dismay of my most-often younger opponents. It’s a part of my DNA apparently, or perhaps I was a Golden Retriever in a previous life and chasing tennis balls is a purely joyful exercise.

Last night was no exception. As my partner and I attacked the net, I anticipated their lob over her and began to track back behind her. Their crisply-struck baby-lob just cleared my partner’s racquet, dropped gently in the back of our court, and was headed away from me. I gave chase and managed at full-tilt to just flick a shot back over my shoulder feeling like it was just solid enough to return to the opponent’s side of the court.

Now is where being the elder and trying a bit too hard became a liability.

My momentum from the all-out sprint, carried me well-beyond the back of the court, and in trying to extend myself fully to get a racquet to the ball, and losing balance, stumbled slightly which did not allow me to slow myself properly before hitting the chainlink fence behind the court. I still have a picture in my head of what I saw right before impact. 

There was a millisecond of silence after the ball left the strings and… >BANG<

I managed to collide with the fence right at a vertical post. With my face. My arms all splayed about trying to complete the list of things, perhaps in the wrong order (flicking the racquet into position for a shot, keeping my balance, protecting my face from the impending impact, etc.). Nevertheless, I quickly recovered to see that the ball was still in play, on the opposite side of the court, being easily volleyed away and we lost the point. 

It hurt.

I still have cuts and abrasions on my forehead and nose… and knee… and elbow… and cheek from the things I saw right before impact. The greatest pain found however, was my bruised ego.

Illuminated for me in an instant was a much more important point that wasn’t tallied in this contest – sometimes trying too hard is not in fact beneficial to the overall result.

It reminded me that what happens in an Indycar isn’t terribly dissimilar, only on a much more severe magnitude.  When I realized that it is, in fact, within my nature to chase things from a nearly-impossible position. I knew that this is a trait which is the precise opposite of what is required to drive an Indycar successfully. 

No driver I’ve ever seen in Indycar has said that they got more out of the car that it gave them. Drivers are instructed quickly very bad things happen when you try that.

Not that I could ever, but I think as Indycar fans, we all harbor the slightest illusion or fantasy of driving and Indycar at race speeds around IMS. Guess what? If you’re reading this, it’s likely in the extreme that you can’t. In fact, pretty close to none of us can do it. Maybe a late-comer to feeling like I have enough evidence to believe this, but far too many people (an many newcomers to Indycar who comment on the live practice feeds) don’t understand the difficulty of racing an Indycar at IMS around such a ‘boring’ oval.

I’ve even been fortunate enough to have done the two-seater ride and the single-seater ride at IMS. According to what I was told, my gear-limited top speed driving myself was approximately 149 mph. On the straights it was thrilling.  In the corners it was really quite overwhelming to the senses. And this was only approximately at 60% of what the current drivers experience, NOWHERE near the limits of adhesion that they deal with every corner of every high-speed lap. It was a bit of a eye-opener for me, realizing that there is something I could never physically or mentally do.

Not without smashing into a fence at some point anyway.

So, while watching these drivers on TV, try to realize that what appears quite like a simple Sunday drive around a simple four-turn course, isn’t, and is something you most likely will never be able to. Appreciate the subtleties of high-speed oval racing.

Even if you can’t see them, understand they’re there and that because they make it look easy, should indicate just how great these drivers are.

The Sex and Genetics of Indycar Fandom


People may be surprised to learn that my blog is written totally off-the-cuff and with no preconceived idea until I get behind the keyboard in earnest. I’ve always done this intentionally to produce something immediate and genuine. Some posts are half-baked, others fully. Today’s post is no different so only you will judge it’s bakededness.

I’m going to just come out and say it: I’ve been enjoying this season of Indycar more than I have in many seasons prior.

The conversations surrounding it, even between previously aligned die-hard fans have become increasingly less comfortable, mostly highlighting more of our very personal preferences and illuminating our differences. It’s beginning to remind me of the various levels of discomfort people have in talking about religion or politics or sex.


In professional sports I appreciate intrigue, variety, uncertainty, and urgency, but also a well-ordered game and consistency in fair play. Not easy to find but is why I have a few beloved favorite sports to the exclusion of many.


Aside from the near-panic that Indycar exhibited in Indy after the practice issues with the Chevy cars snap-oversteering at their limits, becoming airborne, pitching/rolling, and leading to a decision to modify both Honda and Chevy kits in the interest of pragmatic conservation of risk (and, in my opinion, unfairly penalizing Honda), I’ve enjoyed the original concept and subsequent drama and differentiation that has resulted from the aerokits. 

With little drama on the power front, the motors have been prescribed to produce very similar overall power, just slightly different power bands and torque points, but in relation to the differences in aerokits, essentially so similar to not be noticeable.


This season has also added drama off the track for fans (and owners), seemingly producing a significant divide in opinion on the worth of aerokits in relation to the on-track product that we haven’t seen in many years. In the case of some newer fans, they’ve never seen this type of racing atmosphere at all. Love them or hate them, the differences are quite pointed. 

It appears that for people with a marked interest in Indycar racing, you appreciate very specific things: the markers of the distant past – open specs and ingenuity; recent past – single-spec racing (one larger, tightly-bunched packs with minuscule differentiation in performance and aesthetics); or you like more of the current racing – varied-but-similar-spec (multiple, smaller packs with more differentiation in performance and aesthetics).

There is also a longstanding gulf between oval-only fans and those that appreciate some twisties. Sounds like we’ve got ourselves enough traits to make a Punnet Square (hurray for high school Biology lessons paying off again)! Let’s examine what kind of Indycar fan you are..


I’ll admit I’m squarely OI dominant with RI as a recessive trait.

Where do you fall in this? 

Are you and your racing mates compatible?  In some cases, I see how those with opposite results might seem suddenly so foreign to us.

If you have offspring, what will your kids most like?

Insert your tongue-in-cheek, take a little time to be totally honest with yourself, regardless of the environment of the sport today, and think about what you most like, what you moderately like, what you are averse to, and why. 

At risk of making some readers even more uncomfortable, I’ll walk out on a limb even further and suggest that what kind of Indycar fan you are based on this punnet square also correlates to the type of love-maker you are. Do you prefer more “strategy” and “set-up” or rather the lowest-cost, lowest-risk route to “victory lane”?  Is high-speed or accel/decel your game? Perhaps a stretch, but without question more research would be needed to examine that hypothesis further.

Regardless, the key to using this tool is understanding yourself, then employing your time to finding joy in what you like. Indycar fandom or otherwise.





I’m better than ESPN

I’m better than ESPN.

I’m better than ESPN or ABC or Speed or any other mainstream media outlet because I’m willing to stick my neck out and make grand predictions regarding qualifications for the 2010 Indianapolis 500 with nothing to gain and everything to lose regarding my intelligence and credibility. In the odd case that I get that one thing in eleven correct, I will tout my brilliant soothsaying but I will also temper it with the cold, hard, facts of my percentage.

At any rate, here’s my analysis of the top 25 of 38 current qualifiers IN ORDER and BEFORE it all goes down.  Remember, you heard it here first: 

Top Shelf (9):

The Pole (AKA Master of the Obvious selection) – Penske car, I’ll go with…  Briscoe.

The Top 9 – Briscoe, Dixon, Castroneves, Franchitti, Kanaan, M. Andretti, Power, Wheldon, Moraes.

Mid-table Obscurity (16):

Rahal, Matos, Tracy, J. Andretti, Wilson, Scheckter, Mutoh, Patrick, Carpenter, Bell, Hunter-Reay, Fisher, Hamilton, Conway, Meira, Viso.

And here is where it becomes interesting…
Perhaps the tension of who will not make the show is more compelling than who wins the pole, but simple math will tell you that with the current 38 entries, 5 will be bumped.

I have grouped 13 entries that fall below the ‘level of comfort’ in terms of recent experience, skill, equipment, Karma, or whathaveyou, placing them in jeopardy come next Sunday, ranked in order of most likely to least likely to be bumped. 

Danger Drives (5):

1.  98/98T unknown – CURB/Agajanian/3G – A wily veteran will drop in on the second day to surprise a few folks and sneak into the field? Only if it’s Rick Mears. Nahhh, nevermind.
2.  18/18T Duno – Dale Coyne – This will be the beginning of the end for this driver in IndyCar.
3.  29/29T Saavedra (r) – Bryan Herta Autosport – some experience via the Firestone Lights, but this is the team’s initial race effort on the biggest stage no less – tall order.
4.  36/36T Baguette (r) – Conquest – simply not enough experience and team has no major sponsor to assist with ‘motivation’ on qualifying day.
5.  34/34T Romancini (r) – Conquest – also a Lights grad, but will just miss the field.

———- Bump Line ———- 

Bump Day Drama Queens/Kings AKA Survivors (8):

6.  25/25T Beatriz (r) – Dreyer/Reinbold – similar to other Lights grads, better team.  Will be close, but just enough to squeeze into the field.
7.  66/66T Howard (r) – Sarah Fisher – Will survive by the skin of his teeth (as long as he keeps it off the wall).
8.  78/78T DeSilvestro (r) – HVM – Simply enough talent on a decent team to survive a nervy rookie qualifying weekend.
9.  33/33T Junquiera – FAZZT – Karma sees this man through into the field this year, provided Tagliani survives first day qualifying safely. This ride could evaporate if rumors about funding are true.
10. 41/41T Foyt IV – Foyt – Will appear fairly safe on second day, but time will slide down the charts, a bit too near the precipice for his liking.
11. 5/5T Sato – KV – Is a rookie like the Lights grads are ‘rookies’, but with a better team and skill. Must keep it off the wall this week.
12. 77/77T Tagliani – FAZZT – Was in last year only because the team owner installed him in Junquiera’s qualifier. Will be determined to not be that close ever again. Still will be too close for his liking.
13. 19/19T Lloyd – Coyne – The former ‘Pink’ will have some work to do without a teammate capable of assisting when things get tight. Experience will see him through. 

Qualie Caveats:

A. Any car in the above list that ends up in the wall will place extreme pressure on that driver. In that case, I’d drop a driver 3 places closer to the bottom in the above ranking.

B. Sponsors who’ve written big checks hate to not make the show, so often another driver is brought into a struggling seat in hopes of making the race. We know that the 98 machine will need a driver, and I wouldn’t be surprised if another driver steps into one of the Conquest cars at a minimum.

The pool of quality drivers with recent experience isn’t terribly deep: Servia, Doornbos, Sharp, Phillipe, B. Lazier, Simmons, Bernoldi, Rice, Camara, J. Lazier, and Manning are among the most recent.

Well that’s pretty much it.  I leave judgment to the march of time. Best wishes for the remaining month and I will likely have just one more post before signing off and heading to Indy for the race.

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.