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| Indy Incidentals, Impressions and Incidents | | Date Created: Aug 09, 2006, 12:31 PM |
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In the absence of a coherent theme or topic, here are a series of observations and incidents from the past week...
Like Monkeys in a Cage versus the Waffle Bellies: I now have a slight appreciation for what it must feel to be a zoo animal or the opposing team in a hostile environment like a college basketball arena. The space behind the pit wall at Indy is obscenely narrow, causing a dangerously crowded area of pit box. tools, and multiple stacks of tires. The team learns to adapt each week to a variety of pit boxes, but the most bizarre twist to the narrow Indy pit area is that the fans are separated only by crash fencing, which allows ticket holders - inebriated or otherwise - to stand within two or three feet of the pit box and thus able to launch hours of a never-ending tirade of taunts or outright begging for free stuff. We call these fans "Waffle Bellies" - those who lean again a chain-link fence all day in hopes of... well.. who knows what. But they go home with the waffle imprint of the fence on much of the front of their bodies.
Among the yelling: "Hey! You! Sign my girlfriend's shirt! Hey asshole! Come over here and sign my girl's shirt!" There were several who watched nary a lap of the race only to stand at the fence and beg for the hats off our heads, tear-offs from the windshield and - of course - used lugnuts. They would literally yell at any crew member that was near their post along the fence. It was worse because they were close enough to read the crew names attached to the back of their radio headsets - so instead of "hey you," they eventually began calling out busy crew members by name.
As the race progressed, the ineffectual Indy Yellow Shirts (as their volunteer security staff are known) showed up to clear the fence line. Oddly, once they cleared the crowd, they immediately returned to their previous posts, which allowed the same loud and obnoxious buzzards to return.
Truth be told, a couple of new Bud team members only fueled the chaos by tossing lug nuts to a few fans after our first stop, and then a yellow shirt in our pit area picked up a handful of nozzle caps from the used tires to hand them out himself. He then decided he'd bring programs and merchandise from the fans into the pit area for team autographs while we prepared for a pit stop. By the end of the race, it had gotten so bad, several team members chose the most obnoxious fans to receive freshly removed lugnuts. Have you ever touched one after being taken off the wheel? Perhaps they showed their blistered fingers as a badge of honor if they were able to make it to work Monday.
Yes, it does sound like I'm bitching about the fans that pay my salary, but there's a difference between a fan and someone who buys a ticket yet watches none of the race in order to yell at crew members all afternoon.
Great to see Benny Parsons in our garage Friday and Saturday. He seems in good spirits despite his serious battle ahead... Kudos to Dale Jr. who came up with the idea of putting a replica of the "B. Parsons" script that appeared on Benny's race cars onto the rear deck lid of his #88 JR Motorsports Busch car at ORP (I'll forever want to call it IRP) Saturday night.
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 A speedy recovery is wished not only for Benny, but to Champ Car driver Cristiano da Matta who is now in stable condition in a Wisconsin hospital. The delightful, diminutive da Matta is in still in a medically induced coma after a horrific testing accident at Road America last week. da Matta struck a deer that had somehow wandered onto the beautiful road course near Elkhart Lake. This is a dangerous, dramatic sport, but sometimes freak accidents occur that are beyond comprehension.
Hearing of the crash, I immediately thought of the death of Tom Pryce in the South African Grand Prix in 1977. After a car had stopped on course and caught fire briefly, a young fire marshal frantically rushed across the track toward the car, only to be struck by Pryce, who was still at high speed. The marshal was killed instantly, and Pryce also died after the fire extingusher the man was carrying struck him in the head. |
 Speaking of testing accidents, I was fascinated to hear Dale Jr. say several years ago he worried most about being injured in a test session instead of in a race. He believes the lack of other cars on the track causes a driver to sometimes be unsure of his exact marks entering corners (no other cars to judge your progress by) and the fact that the driver is usually not being asked to push to the limit. The usual goal of a driver at a test is to maintain a steady pace so the variables being tested can be judged properly. This means the driver is not always at 100% concentration. Among the noteables who have perished in testing accidents include Tony Renna at Indy and the brilliant Bruce McLaren, who died while testing one of his dominant Can-Am cars in 1970.
I hope da Matta replicates the remarkable recovery of Roberto Guerrero, who was in a coma for 17 days after a testing crash, yet made a speedy and near complete recovery in the late 1980s. da Matta's family ask that anyone wanting to help, please send donations to Paul Newman's Hole in the Wall Camps (of which the Victory Junction Gang Camp is a part.)
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 The incidentals: It was good to have a chat with two-time Indy 500 winner Arie Luyendyk, who was strolling through the garage area Friday and Saturday. In my days of trekking to the 500 each year, perhaps only Rick Mears was as smooth around the ol' Brickyard as Arie. (And my ex-wife is still in love with the Dutchman. I credit Arie as the sole reason the ex became a race fan!)... Because I grew up with the Indy 500 as my personal holy grail, I may be biased, but some now claim the Brickyard has overtaken the now shell-of-its-former-self 500. I say there is still no comparison to the electricity before and during the race. The 500 has been run since 1911, and it will take some doing for the Brickyard 400 to bypass it for race-day goose-bumps, traditions and atmosphere. It's an impossible thing to quantify or describe, but it's just not the same. I can only compare it to the sense of drama between the Daytona 500 and the Pepsi 400 at Daytona. Despite the same track, the huge crowds, the same competitors, etc., the 400 will never have the same magical feel... How do you know it was a reeeeeeally hot day on Sunday? After the race, I went to the media center to write the post-race report. After sitting for a few moments, I stood up to grab a bottle of water, leaving a perfectly detailed sweaty imprint of my ass and legs on the chair. We need a name for that - assprint? Sweatstripes? Ummm... can I get a towel please?...
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