The way back to a better time
Watching the years go by, I find each one makes me more thankful at having had the good fortune to live in a time of intense enthusiasm covered in innocence. It was a time when many of us didn’t have to lock doors, when bank pass books had hand written balances, when there was shame felt when doing wrong, when personal responsibility was a supreme asset. And it was a time when every aspect of life was marked by progress–from the first color TV to the dawn of the space age, which was born at the very time its generation was just old enough to realize through the imagination of childhood it could someday be part of breakthroughs never before even fantasized. Auto racing’s technological acceleration was equally as stunning and fascinating and was also accompanied by a sense of personal attachment that made what we saw on the track a magic we in our innocence thought would never end. By some wonderful occurrence my first home was next door to a member of an Indy Car team. My father was a fan of racing, so I was surrounded by the beauty of it all. Add to that we were one hour or less from the major race tracks of the time. It was too good to be true for this young child.
However even then, even as a child, I was aware of the dark side. By the time I attended my first race, I knew drivers were killed on a regular basis. Some were even young men I had seen next door. As deeply as all the people I met loved the sport, they seemed complacency about these deaths. Many times, I as a child heard them say to each other, ”They’re all gonna get it sooner or later” as they left the stands following a death; and as I watched from year to year, that became true so many times its was horrifying. The even sadder part was some fans were thrilled when it occurred and demonstrated an apathy towards the lost drivers as though they were not even real people. Was this macabre feeling some offshoot from the personal tragedies found in the major wars accompanying the sport’s early growth?
Regardless of what produced that loathsome reaction, it always seemed to take dozens of tragedies to create one idea to halt even the chance of the next one. Open cockpit cars didn’t have roll bars before 1958 and many complained when USAC mandated them at the start of that season. It took a huge fire that killed 2 drivers in 1964 to implement fuel tank cells. It seemed only through disaster did anyone put effort into preventing the next one; and death counts of four, five, six drivers a year continued to occur until finally a generation of designers started to engineer safety into the sport. Long overdue changes entered the sport when USAC was still in charge; but even after inheriting the improved cars of the ’70s, CART’s early ’80s’ designers and engineers still had much to correct. Foot injuries were total catastrophes, and CART responded by mandating more distance from the drivers feet to the front impact zone, thereby dramatically reducing those injuries. Fatalities were reduced to numbers that in my youth were simply unimaginable. Between age 6 and 16 I had seen dozens fatalities and read of many more, but my son (who from age six attended races with me) in the same 10 year period of his life experienced only one. CART has been lamblasted by some for what they saw as flaws, but it was CART that accomplished the most sought after advancement any could desire–injury and fatality reduction.
In those same years of Indy Car history, CART also created such a good product that the Indianapolis 500 improved and the Speedway added more grandstands. Entries would approach 100 race cars. Over 100,000 fans would appear on Pole Day just to watch one car at a time attempt to make the race and sit first on the grid. The first Indy 500 I watched (1958) was when the race’s reputation was at its highest, and Indy would stay at that level for decades. CART’s rulebook evolved a championship car that could race at speeds of 220 all day long. Points battles were always suspenseful. Live TV now covered entire seasons. Then in l996 it all became a backwards slide in a move that served no productive purpose.
A series was established to ”fix” things that were never the problem they were made out to be. Then, as time went on, these ”problems” were forgotten, ignored, overlooked. Primary rationalizations for pitting IRL against CART, such as foreign drivers taking the place of American grassroots drivers (thereby blocking for them the “road to Indy” and racing stardom), motor leases, and operating costs requiring deep pocket corporate sponsors remained and became a 500 pounds gorilla mocking the new racing body. Worse still, the heighten injury rate in the early years of the IRL reversed CART’s safety pattern and became a sad reminder of many things fans two and three decades earlier knew only too well. The fans were polarized, split far deeper than they had been when the rear-engine cars replaced the beloved roadsters (repercussions of which still vibrate down the halls of racedom) thereby producing a situation much more injurious to racing than the “problems” IRL was created to “fix”.
The division among fans was reflected in the internet forums, which became a stage where anonymous posters could express their singular frustrations instead of attempting to support the sport, share memories of value, or offer suggestions opening new doors. Such forums, regardless of their original purpose, became for many nothing more than a chance to say something without responsibility. With hatred birthed by the split filling each forum thread, vitriol ruled over sensibly stated dissatisfaction, and critiques not including “F-ing” were dismissed with sneers. While these forums were a great instrument for measuring sentiments, the level of understanding steadily declined; as ” fans” of took advantage on their anonymity to indulge themselves in a complete lack of civility. They still do.
I myself composed many slams against the series started with only one thing in mind: to run the original evolution of Indy Car out of business. After 40 years of watching Indy Car grow and prosper, it seemed a blind blasphemy to claim a new series was needed and then fermenting the division necessary for this new series to succeed. As time demonstrated, any attempt at “fixing” by dividing the essentially unified world of American open wheel racing through reviving unhappiness with the decades-ago evolution from ovals and roadsters was destined to destroy what was so proudly assembled after WW2. IRL was begun at the peak of CART open wheel racing success and contrary to that success produced results in many cases far more resembing disasters than accidental injuries. Careers long planned were spun into a nightmare by the sectional split. If there was anything wrong about CART, never mind, don’t look; because, whatever was allegedly after a few years became a “normal” part of the new series. More ironic than even this was the Crown Jewel of American racing–the protection of which being the leading reason for this new series–was belittled by the IRL. And now, finally, there is nothing left but the very series that drove participants and fans into a civil war. So now, in their lingering bitterness, many say they will never come back to the sport and have resigned themselves to quiet contemplation of their memories. However, many others remain entrapped in a catacomb of vitriol, sustained by their redundant hatred for the IRL, Tony George, and any and all who played a part in the split and ending the evolution of years of traditions, history, and personal memories by contributing to the demise of ChampCar.
They have chosen the bleakness of an underground existence rrather than emerging from their womb of negation to accept the challenge of re-forming the series even its proprietors recognize needs restructuring. That is sad. The war is over. Yes, we lost; but a greater loss will result if open wheel racing is condemmed to its present course. With the war over, which it is for this writer and all others not walled into the catacomb of vitriol, pointless condemnation serves nothing. Such makes happy those who chose darkness but serves no other purpose. It is time to realize the only landscape left for open wheel formula racing at the highest American level is the one controlled by those from the IRL, and the muffled groans from that landscape’s underground are fading on the wind.
Can the IRL attract the necessary new fans, fans from a generation to whom the split is at best ancient history best forgotten, fans to replace the irrelevant personages from the worn out hate clubs? Yes, “clubs“; because both sides have fans who will forever blather words of distain for the other side in the late civil war, fans best left in the darkness they created for themselves. These haters must be set aside, must be forgotten, their irrelevance confirmed if the sport is ever to rebound to what each side wishes. I say this as one who fought for the victory of my side, the ChampCar World Series. I never wanted Champ Car to lose the war, campaigned as hard as I could for its victory by writing on an internet forum. Some read my offerings and agreed, while others expressed much anger in disagreeing with the intent of my sermons. Whatever; it’s all over now and only one thing is left, the restoration of American open wheel racing.
The great majority of both sides will hopefully set aside the war they fought and come to a common realization. We must, whatever we think of the past, recognize the need to work for open wheel racing–even if that means working with those once regarded as the enemy–if there is to be open whel racing. Looking at the landscape about us, it is apparent there must be another evolution, as there was after the rear engine invasion, for open wheel racing again to move forward. Towards that end, we must bury the dead and work with the living.
Am I saying I love the idea of this sport more than I hate what happened? The answer is determined by what I understand is good for all the new fans we so badly need, for the young drivers seeking to reach the highest goals in American formula racing, and for resuming the daydream of racing that danced in the imagination of children fifty, sixty years ago when first they heard the cough of an Offy. So my answer is, “ Yes!” As it always is for “paper”, I will choose hope over pessimism, faith over doubt. The only correct thing to do for this sport is seek improvements that will aid all. The other choice, the incorrect one? Staying mired in the catacomb of vitriol with irrelevants who feed each other’s hate and satisfy their own egos by supporting the total death of American open wheel racing